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The Sex Blog Of Record
November 17th, 2015 -- by Bacchus
Thanks to the good Jesuits of Fordham University, we know about this very busy cross-dressing male prostitute back in 1395:
On the 11th of December in the 18th year of the reign of Richard II, there were brought into the presence of John Fressh, Mayor, and the Aldermen of the City of London John Britby of the county of York and John Rykener, calling himself Eleanor, having been detected in women’s clothing, who were found last Sunday night between the hours of 8 and 9 by certain officials of the city lying by a certain stall in Soper’s Lane committing that detestable unmentionable and ignominious vice.
In a separate examination held before the Mayor and Aldermen about the occurrence, John Britby confessed that he was passing through the high road of Cheap on Sunday between the abovementioned hours and accosted John Rykener, dressed up as a woman, thinking he was a woman, asking him as he would a woman if he could commit a libidinous act with her. Requesting money for his labor, Rykener consented, and they went together to the aforesaid stall to complete the act, and were captured there during these detestable wrongdoings by the officials and taken to prison. And John Rykener, brought here in woman’s clothing and questioned about this matter, acknowledged himself to have done everything just as John Britby had confessed.
Rykener was also asked who had taught him to exercise this vice, and for how long and in what places and with what persons, masculine or feminine, he had committed that libidinous and unspeakable act. He swore willingly on his soul that a certain Anna, the whore of a former servant of Sir Thomas Blount, first taught him to practice this detestable vice in the manner of a woman. He further said that a certain Elizabeth Bronderer first dressed him in women’s clothing; she also brought her daughter Alice to diverse men for the sake of lust, placing her with those men in their beds at night without light, making her leave early in the morning and showing them the said John Rykener dressed up in women’s clothing, calling him Eleanor and saying that they had misbehaved with her.
He further said that certain Phillip, rector of Theydon Garnon, had sex with him as with a woman in Elizabeth Bronderer’s honse outside Bishopsgate, at which time Rykener took away two gowns of Phillip’s, and when Phillip requested them from Rykener he said that he was the wife of a certain man and that if Phillip wished to ask for them back he would make his husband bring suit against him.
Rykener further confessed that for five weeks before the feast of St. Michael’s last he was staying at Oxford, and there, in women’s clothing and calling himself Eleanor, worked as an embroideress; and there in the marsh three unsuspecting scholars — of whom one was named Sir William Foxlee, another Sir John, and the third Sir Walter — practiced the abominable vice with him often. John Rykener further confessed that on Friday before the feast of St. Michael he came to Burford in Oxfordshire and there dwelt with a certain John Clerk at the Swan in the capacity of tapster for the next six weeks, during which time two Franciscans, one named Brother Michael and the other Brother John, who gave him a gold ring, and one Carmelite friar and six foreign men committed the above-said vice with him, of whom one gave Rykener twelve pence, one twenty pence, and one two shillings.
Rykener further confessed that he went to Beaconsfield and there, as a man, had sex with a certain Joan, daughter of John Matthew, and also there two foreign Franciscans had sex with him as a woman. John Rykener also confessed that after his last return to London a certain Sir John, once chaplain at the Church of St. Margaret Pattens, and two other chaplains committed with him the aforementioned vice in the lanes behind St. Katherine’s Church by the Tower of London. Rykener further said that he often had sex as a man with many nuns and also had sex as a man with many women both married and otherwise, how many he did not know. Rykener further confessed that many priests had committed that vice with him as a woman, how many he did not know, and said that he accommodated priests more readily than other people because they wished to give him more than others.
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November 16th, 2015 -- by Bacchus
Why do I get the feeling that somebody (not pictured) was walking funny and sporting a big grin the next day?
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November 15th, 2015 -- by Bacchus
One of the modes of advancement in the Sex Gangsters game that I have written about before here on ErosBlog is that as you (the party of the first part, hereinafter referred to as “The Gangster”) accumulate a posse of beautiful and dangerous sidekicks, you can expend in-game resources to modify their default attires, always in the direction of “less of it”. Here’s the progression of nudity for the character I call “India Jones”:
(And here’s a larger version.)
You gotta love a woman who never takes off her hat and boots!
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November 14th, 2015 -- by Bacchus
Wow, did I really write three heavy-ish essay-type blog posts all in the same week? Well, then, I guess the bunch of us have earned a tiny vacation. Hey, I’ve got just the thing! How about a shot of Aria Alexander all trussed up to get bondage-fucked in the butt for Sexually Broken?
The Sexually Broken people say that Aria “is a fashion model who turned to the dark side when she found out she likes dick more than she liked wearing clothes.” They also say “We all win here today.” Agreed, gentlemen. Most heartily agreed!
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November 13th, 2015 -- by Bacchus
This painting is Modigliani’s Nu couché, or “Reclining Nude” as it is usually rendered in English. To my pornified eye, it is no thing at all — a crudely-rendered oil painting with muddy colors, of interest (if at all) for the expression on the woman’s face. But that is why they don’t let me into fancy auction houses. Former taxi driver and current Chinese billionaire Liu Yiqian thought it was worth 170 million bucks, and for that price bought it this week.
And here’s where it gets interesting. As Mashable reports, the financial press (but pretty much nobody else) found the painting too shocking to put on TV, and felt the need to fuzz out the naughty bits (tits included!) for its audience of stockbrokers and mature persons of business. CNBC, Bloomberg TV, the Financial Times — none of them thought their audiences could handle this boring old canvas in its filthy uncensored glory:
This cannot possibly be a “protect the children” impulse. How many children do you know who watch CNBC? Or who read the Financial Times? I can only speculate about the true motive, but to me it speaks of the reasons underlying the #pornocalypse. I’ve mentioned before that #pornocalypse begins to show its ugly ass when an internet company reaches that certain stage in its life-cycle where bankers and stockbrokers are getting involved. Steve Jobs {spit!} aside, the anti-sex squeamishness typically isn’t coming from the tech industry, it shows up when it’s time to start dealing in serious money.
I don’t know why financiers can’t handle a little bit of nudity in their financial reportage. But there’s nobody more slavish toward the whims of money than a financial press editor. I think we can safely trust that they know their moneyed audience. Call this proof of a sort: the #pornocalypse is an artifact of the prudishness of the rich.
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November 12th, 2015 -- by Bacchus
So there’s this essay by Christopher Zeischegg aka Danny Wylde. It’s titled On The Moral Imperative To Commodify Our Sexual Suffering and I think there’s some stuff in there I disagree with. I have to say “I think” because it’s a dense essay with a lot of nuance, some of which may be getting past me. What’s more, I haven’t been where Zeischegg has been or done what he’s done. What I have done is worked (in my pasty-faced keyboarding way) in the same porn industry as him, and experienced (right along with him) certain changes in the porn business:
You’ve heard of the website PornHub.com? It’s owned by an international corporation called MindGeek. They used to be called Manwin, when they were developing a strategy to make free-mostly-pirated-porn sites the new normal. Employees were paid to rip DVDs and upload pirated content faster than any porn studio could send out their DMCA notices. MindGeek single-handedly caused the collapse of the pay-for-porn model of business. Kind of like how Napster killed the music industry. Except Napster did its damage and then disappeared. MindGeek went on to buy out every financially gutted porn studio until it resembled a production/distribution monopoly. MindGeek is Brazzers. MindGeek is Elegant Angel. MindGeek is Men.com. MindGeek is PornHub. You get the point.
Zeischegg, who no longer performs in porn after “all the ED drugs had caught up with” him, got a full time job filming and producing the stuff. He became bored, and in describing his boredom, he invokes one of the fears that animates me:
I could say with some certainty — after staring at several hundred hours of content in the absence of arousal — that porn had become boring.
There was flesh and it was fucked. Everyone over the age of 12 could list the ways in which a cock could fill a hole. Pornography was the equivalent of pop music — culturally omnipotent and void of all significance. It was visual mediocrity compounded by such widespread financial collapse that there might never again exist the capitalist incentive for novelty or spectacle.
“…that there might never again exist the capitalist incentive for novelty or spectacle.”
Sit with that thought. Allow it to fill you. Taste it, smell it. Try not to cry. If you love porn, novelty, and spectacle (and I love all three!) it’s pretty depressing, and there’s a lot of evidence loose in the world of 2015 that it might be true.
Zeischegg writes of suffering a severe depression “which may have never waned.” I want to think his depression is talking in the above quote. I want to think that porn as an art form will survive the loss of its status as an industry, and that once the MindGeek monoculture is as forgotten as Myspace, pornographic novelty and spectacle will flourish again, in a dynamic commercial ecosystem of small but creative businesses.
I want to think that. But I haven’t seen all that Zeischegg has seen.
As for the rest of his essay? He’s totally not done. He goes on to discuss in-person sexwork and the pressure it’s under as a business in a world where the decline of sexual shame is putting downward pressure on prices. Example sentence: “There’s Grindr. What’s the incentive to pay a young hustler for a blowjob?” He finishes up with an extended parable (or so I choose to read it) carrying his commodification notions to a logical conclusion that features a proposed partnership with a necromancer for the production of snuff films.
As far as I am concerned, he may have his fun with his necromancer. Or don’t call it fun: call it rather his Swiftian condemnation of the quest for novelty in extreme libertinage, if you choose to read him that way. It’s about the decline of sexual shame where I think we differ. He seems (and I freely admit to the possibility of misunderstanding) to think the decline of sexual shame is a bad thing. He’s regretful that, through writing and advocacy, he “did [his] part to normalize a profession that should have remained in the shadows.” He’s downright derisive about young women willing to make porn for low compensation as a (his scare quotes) “political act”. I can’t tell how much of this is a considered philosophy, versus sour grapes or just sourness in general. But I would argue that making porn and doing in-person sexwork are professions that have benefited from, and will benefit further from, the decline of sexual shame. It’s true that the premium wages they used to command will never come back, except perhaps for narrow specialists; but that’s no bad thing. The high wages were in part compensation for the social condemnation that came with the job. As the condemnation wanes — and it’s still got a long way to go! — it’s only logical that the wages will decline too.
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November 11th, 2015 -- by Bacchus
I remember when anal beads were a nasty unsafe unsanitary nightmare. They were sold in every shoddy sex toy shop and XXX VHS video rental place, and they were cheap, because they had to be. For one thing, they were literally plastic beads, on a white cotton string. There was no way to clean or sanitize that string after use, or the holes through the beads for that matter. Worse yet, the beads were acrylic plastic (remember Clackers?) and they often had a sharp/scratchy mold line where the two hemispheres of the beads had been pressed together. To use them safely, you first had to inspect them bead by bead, smoothing off any rough spots with an X-Acto knife and sandpaper; and then you had to throw them away when you were done, unless you really enjoyed playing with boiling water and bleach. They were a nightmare, I tell you!
They’ve come a long way. Behold the KinkLab Innuendo Anal Beads:
Kinklab’s Innuendo Anal Beads are a safe, pleasurable addition to the repertoire of every aficionado of anal play, no matter what level of experience. This silicone-blend toy features seven beads of graduated sizes that can be easily inserted, starting with the smallest and working your way up to the larger ones as your comfort and confidence increases. Just add your favorite water-based lube and insert slowly.
Unlike strands of beads, this toy is a single solid piece, and equipped with a handle that makes removal safe, comfortable, and easy. Because of the high-quality silicone materials, it’s easy to keep the Innuendo clean–just hand wash with mild soap or a commercial cleaner and allow to air-dry before playing again.
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