Come Back Strong With 50 Bellydancers!

Rope is super serious!

So, it’s been a while, months in fact. I don’t really have any excuse except that I’ve been busy with real life stuff and people stuff. Nothing bad, in fact it’s fair to say that things are going pretty bloody brilliantly at the moment. But I’ve let my writing and my blogging slip, and that’s something I’m planning on correcting, starting now:

Now, don’t for a microsecond think that I haven’t been doing anything. In fact the fruits of one of my labours is about to come to full ripeness. That’s right, my directorial porn debut is right around the corner.

Rope is super serious!

Porn is stern serious stuff…

I’ll be posting more about the festival at the time and hopefully afterwards, but for now I just want to give a little glimpse behind the curtain of this project.

It all started when I spotted a post by Whatever World about the upcoming London Porn Film Festival. Very much like the Berlin Porn Film Festival, this one seeks to embrace all manner of queer feminist indie porn. I went to the Berlin festival back in October so the prospect of having something similar in London was absolutely fantastic. What was even better was when I realised that the deadline for submissions hadn’t passed yet.

That said, the deadline was only a handful fo days away, surely too short to find a suitable performer, equipment, crew and teach myself film-making. Well that’s what I thought as I idly started sending out feelers… except the feelers struck gold in the form of the very lovely Fauni Cate. Fauni was available that weekend… as was I.

What followed was an incredibly intense few days wherein we made arrangements, I secured camera equipment and with the help of some friends managed to pull together everything necessary to make a film in a terrifyingly short space of time. It involved late nights, confusion, stress, occasional tears, especially when my poor five-year-old laptop crashed mid-edit and a near breakdown while trying to comprehend how video compression works.

And looking back on it now it’s strange to see the film, that strange island of intimacy and sensuality amidst the chaos of working to an impossible deadline.

So yes it’s a little rough around the edges, but given the circumstances I’m incredibly proud of this film and everyone involved in making it.

It’s called “Fauni Thighs” and will be played as part of the “Kick Ass Love” programme showing at 17:30 this Friday 7th April and 22:30 Saturday 8th. I’ll be there 🙂 I hope as many lovely folks as can make it will be there too.


Time to Shine

I think it’s fair to say that 2016 has been a pretty amazing and awesome year for me thus far in terms of my personal life and the new things I’ve had the chance to experience. Mingled with that is a colossal pile of poo going on in the wider world, which can lead to a strange feeling of disconnect. It reminds me a little of 2008 to 2009; a period in which, while the world’s economies staggered, I was making my first steps in my career and in the most financially stable position I’d ever been in.

The wider world can take a back seat for now, or rather, you can read better thoughts than mine on it elsewhere. But what I do want to share are two of this year’s highlights:

Firstly, as previously reported, the amazing intimate porn scene I shot with Zak is available NOW NOW NOW! And what’s more, the amazingly lovely Girl on The Net wrote some very kind words about her experience of seeing the afterglow and then the finished film.

The second thing I want to write about is a little more abstract, and a lot more personal. I’ve struggled for a long time with one of my biggest gender hangups; crying in front of others. I don’t consciously choose not to do this, it’s just something that doesn’t really happen for me, whether I want to or not. Except it would seem that sometimes it does happen. It’s hard to write about because  I have to dance the invisible line of what I want to share and what’s just for me so I’ll keep it simple. I was in the woods, blindfolded and fastened to a tree while people, hands, pain happened. Threats were shouted and whispered, pressure points worked mercilessly and I ended up as a sobbing puddle of flesh on the floor. And it was glorious.

It was a feeling of being, just being. For once I wasn’t performing any kind of role, I wasn’t trying to be an acceptable version of me I was just me.

Afterwards some of the people who’d seen it happen were concerned, others told me it was incredibly hot. Most of the men who saw it, though, didn’t seem to know how to react. It was just a complete unknown, brains failing to fully comprehend what they’d seen. Nobody seemed to grasp quite how good it had been, how liberating and empowering it could be to be reduced to great hulking sobs.

But I understood, and I guess that’s what matters.


Review: Girl On The Net: How A Bad Girl Fell In Love

Note: this is based upon an advance review copy of the book. The final version may have changes… like page numbers… and a cover… There’s also exciting book launch stuff over at GOTN’s website 🙂 Enjoy.

To say I’ve been anticipating this book would be an understatement; as in I literally, upon meeting the author at Eroticon last year, asked her about when she was going to do a sequel to “My Not-So Shameful Sex Secrets“. The answer was about nine months and the result of which is a rather different beast to the first book.

That’s kind of to be expected seeing as book 1 (as I shall call it) covers everything from childhood to somewhere in the twenties, it’s kind of inevitable that book 2 will have rather different material to work with. I would be tempted to say it feels like it lacks direction on occasion, but that doesn’t do justice to the excellent job it does of painting a picture of a life, a relationship and a partner that is so well drawn through the pages of this book I feel like I know him without ever having met him.

One thing that book 2 does is focus less on sex, but what it loses in sexy fin times it makes up for in a gut-wrenching depiction of life in a modern anxiety-fuelled career. It is powerful stuff and contains moments that took me back to a very unhappy phase in my life and left me I had to take a moment before carrying on. But sweaty palms and trembling fingers aside, its heart-wrenching stuff and, even in the dark places, GOTN’s characteristic humour shines through.

Overall it was funny, heart-warming, gut wrenching, borderline traumatising but in the best possible way. It’s not the lightest of reads, but it doesn’t get lost in the darkness either.

Available from Amazon and signed copies from Coles.


Earth Girls Are Easy

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Or: Why does bigotry keep getting into my porn?

Like so many people in the modern world I have a Tumblr account. It’s not a particularly well curated one. If you want to see mine, well, all you’ll really get is very sporadic reblogs of collections of gifs that probably give you waaay too much insight into what turns me on. Tumblr is not my chosen form of self-expression.

It is, however, an excellent platform for creating a carefully tailored near-infinite stream of porn. It’s fantastic, the perfect thing for single-handed laptop or smartphone browsing except…excpet, there’s this one thing.

People on Tumblr are awful. Not in the horrible trolling abuse sort of way but more like those people you occasionally meet at parties. They say hello and you get chatting and they seem reasonably affable. The evening wears on and you find yourself engaging with them and enjoying their company. There’s the occasional slightly odd moment but hey, that’s fine, you probably just mis-heard… And then it all suddenly changes. The conversation shifts or they quietly confide in you that actually they voted UKIP at the last election. And that’s it, they’ve got you. It’s the worst kind of honey trap. You feel soiled, tainted. No matter how quickly you extricate yourself or how vocally express your non-endorsement of their political world view they’ve got you. It stings, deep inside, because you, for a while at least, liked them.

So it goes with Tumblr. The really hot blog you found that delivers just the right sort of filth comes through, except every now and then there’ll be something… else.

For example, I like me some femdom porn. Lot’s of it is very sexy stuff, and I kind of like some of the things that have captions, little stories or ideas that make the head go *poof* in just the right way. Except sometimes it won’t come out like that. Instead of sexy and dangerous it shoots off into a monologue extolling how all men are inherently inferior worms. Then I’m suddenly not aroused anymore I’m lost somewhere between angry and pitying.

But at least it’s better than when my feed is pouring casual racism onto me. I mean, I guess I can understand why there’s a bit of an overlap between cuckold fetishes and interracial fetishes. And I’m not going to say there’s anything wrong with either (a fantasy is a fantasy) it’s just not for me. And I’m sorry if this means I judge you, fellow tumblr user, but I’ll admit, those moments are not me at my best, most placid, accepting and non-judgmental. I judge the shit right then, but mostly I judge me.

Despite what it sounds like I’m really not setting out to criticise anyone’s kink. Just express that weird discomfort where you find yourself agreeing with an affable bigot at a party… and by agreeing I mean coming… and by dinner party I mean… you get the idea.

Photo credit: “On Top of The World” by Jeffrey