A Professional Octopus

“He’s a professional pussy licker.” Sure. I thought looking at him. I actually told him before we went into the room that I didn’t want to have sex with him. But in Japan no means yes, so saying anything short of pushing someone off a bed or out the door is probably seen as a “probably.” I could have been a little drunk off of wine or high from the endorphins of being suspended from the ceiling. I went to the bathroom after being released from my suspension and the cute guy in the dress and his ugly friend cornered me in the sex room. “We want you.” he said. I had let him put nipple clamps on me at the bar so I was feeling game. Game is different than horny. Game for me is something like, “Sure. Let’s see what you are working with.” I mostly wanted to mess around with him. His ugly friend was just Wingman for the night. Unfortunately. I told him to get the German guy from the bar and we were all going to have fun. I had never been with 3 guys before and I was into first time experiences once I crossed over a certain point, I wasn’t trying to do anything that I had done before. And I certainly did not. I had NEVER IN MY LIFE TO DATE, ALLLLLL THE SEX WORK I’VE EVER HAD in 7 years had such terrible, pathetic sex. All 3 of them were silent and inexperienced, passive and meek. I felt nothing of their penises inside me and the nerd octopus sucking on my pussy was no pro, he was a vampire and I had to ask him to stop. "A professional octopus is what you meant, I believe." I've had sex with 2 guys a few times as an escort, I've tried a DP with no success twice and now this. People think group sex with penis looks like it does on Red Tube, NEWS FLASH: IT USUALLY DOESN'T. As soon as the two guys came they ditched the sex room and went upstairs to have drinks back at the bar without a word to us. Now it was me and the German guy. He had a cock ring on and he was attempting to pound me but his cock wasn’t even inside of me and I had to remind him of that fact. It reminded me of one of my dear elder clients who I’d have great energy sex with because his cock was never inside me. “I think I must have fallen out.” he’d say. Well, you were never in so, you can’t fall out. But it was before I studied Tantra, we were having energy orgasms without penetration and that felt amazing actually. Much better than this crap of 3 tools that I danced with for about 45 minutes. Most of my time was talking to the German guy. He clearly wanted to date me but, you can NOT go from the worst sex of your life, to maybe we should hang out sometime and go to a movie. It just doesn’t happen. He walked me to the train station and tried to hold my hand and i pulled it away. I really wished he would just disappear and i could go home alone and process what disgusting slobber had invaded my body temple during this experiment of Japanese culture. In all my career of sex work, I always said that there was no bad sex if at least I got paid. I just got used as a cum rag and treated like a napkin so the fact that this one guy was trying to act cordial and chivalrous was just not helping. All you can do with the worst sex of your life from #1 is just hope that there is never a #2 time. You don’t date the person and work with them and hope that it will get better over the years. NO.

The "is something" happening bar?

Sometimes i get moved to be daring. It is often a spontaneous adventure spirit that just allows me to do a lot of the things that I have ever done in my life such as when I gogo danced on New Year’s Eve dressed as a Kabuki dancer on the pole they had at the club, or whenever I need fire power to go and do something I have never done before. For a while I have been mulling on the idea of going to a sex club in Tokyo and having some random and spontaneous interaction with some people there. You never know who it will be,but as a female the advantage of being daring is that you don’t have to pay to play because having a female who is willing and able in the club is the big reason why there are so many single men there in the first place. I was freer than usual which is not to say that I was horny, i really wasn’t more than usual. I have lately been quite celibate in Japan. Attaining connection in Tokyo for this purpose has been quite a challenge for me, so I’ve almost just relinquished myself to celibacy because there just simply has not been anyone who has approached me, those that have approached me have not qualified to my standards (they’ve been gruff or too drunk, or expect me to approach them first). I’m not looking for any old sex. I got bored of Tinder and how the guys on there talk to me, so I uninstalled that app. I decided casual sex on the internet wasn’t going to be fulfilling. That night, I went to a sports bar in Tokyo to watch some winter Olympics because I don’t own a TV. I sat for 2 hours at the bar, pretending to be glued to watching Curling ( a sport where teams of 3 people clean the ice for the path of a bowling ball) for an hour, looking at the bar, reflecting on my time attempting to be social in Japan, hating how things have been working for me here. The usual, no one talks to the single girl at the bar. Even in America, if someone I don’t like is talking to me, at least I feel that I have been able to check mark the social aspect of “going out and watching the game” mission. Happening bars in Japan have been the friendliest places for me. It is amazing to see and experience what I think is “normal” bar culture, which is that I am in a place where strangers will actually strike up a conversation with me. I went to the happening bar out of frustration with the 2 hours of silence at the Sports Bar. I had imagined doing exactly what I did this night many times in my mind. I doubt that it was really about the sex but more of penetrating the Japanese underground or interacting with Japanese people that was enticing to me. It was mainly for the experience and being open to whatever might or might not happen. I was actually unattached as I usually am, anytime I leave my house in Japan. I have gone to sex parties and often not had sex, and this is part of the fun. The overt possibility is there, unlike regular bars. I remember being propositioned by a decent a very sexual swinger couple visiting Japan and seeking me as a unicorn and I really wasn’t interested. I feel like Siddhartha lately, something like being too spiritually sexually woke and so disinterested in everything. I’m not exactly seeking to get laid, I was seeking connection, I think. But just like everything else in life, when you feel things are just right, you know it. I had a few drinks and put on a sexy cos play outfit from the wall of costumes that the bar has. I was surprised it actually fit me as I tend to be too L compared to the average Japanese woman, and often larger than the average Japanese man. One of the guys at the happening bar bar was cute to me he was wearing woman’s dress outfit that showed his cute ass. He was skinny and probably weighed the same as me, but likely 3 sizes down from me. “Look at your skinny little body.” I said, grabbing his waist on either side. He was doing some negotiations for his nerdy friend who was heavier with glasses, overweight and absolutely of no interest to me. “He’s a professional pussy licker,” he kept saying to me. I looked at his unattractive awkward friend and nodded and said nothing. (to be continued)

you can't have #metoo in a country where #nomeansyes

You can’t have a #metoo movement in Japan because it would include almost every woman and girl who has been touched by the portrayal of sexual violence or who has actually been touched by someone non consensually. #toomany Everything is underreported in Japan because shame is the gag that controls the people. Losing face, pride and making waves are all things that are not inherent in the culture. Sexual violence however is. The image of women being “seduced” by sea creatures goes back as far as Edo and it is made to look erotic. These animal/tentacle seductions carry over into both modern anime and hentai porn and can still be seen on Netflix in Japan right now. The scrolls of old have octopus and courtesan sex and one could poetically interpret this as symbolic to a degree but anime and hentai pretty much leave nothing up to the imagination and it would be like saying bukkake is symbolic as Butoh, but I doubt it. It is symbolic of the misogyny and disregard of the bodies, rights and safety of women and girls of Japan. And what about American porn? Yes, that too is symbolic of the sexism and misogyny of America and Western culture. Both are problematic but the U.S version is some twenty years ahead of Japan, U.S school girls and barely legals have to be 18 or older with a 2257 ID on file! This law is enforced more strictly and unanimously agreed upon than condom use. For those of us that walked on both soils we can fairly assess that the social consciousness of Japan has suffered greatly from being closed off for so long. They are resistant to multi-cultural identities and believe that it is easier to let the government dictate their lives versus make waves. Musical street performance and smoking weed are in the same category and can send you to jail for up to 1 month or even longer for violations of the existing laws around them. Resistance is in small pockets here. Suicide is one of the forms of Japanese resistance and it is one of the ways that people disrupt daily life here, but not for long. The steps that come before a subway or mass suicide go unnoticed and pushed out of sight and out of mind. Hushed away and pushed into the dark dirty rooms of the hikkikomori and the dying elderly. I watched a popular anime called Gantz, supposedly futuristic but clearly a reflection of the 1990s worldview of the Japanese artist and producers. The female character was beamed into existence and she was non consensually kissed by the first guy, taken to the back to be raped by another thug, rescued by the nice guy and then after her rescue sexually assaulted by a dog’s tongue, which she protested erotically to stimulate the viewers into arousal around her complete exploitation. A newer version of Gantz left out all of the aforementioned scenes, so I could fairly say that huge improvements had been made, but still nothing that resembled real strength or independence of thought. She still fell in love with the main character after knowing him for 15 minutes and died in the end fighting for the possibility of pairing up with him and her child.

Skip to another anime called “High School of the Dead” on netflix and it is a zombie genre that seems to rip off The Walking Dead except that all the female high school students in it are objectified with balloon like breasts falling out and gratuitous panty shots. I’ve seen the school girl fetish in Japan since I first got here, but I’d never seen it in full motion and watched how titillating it is designed to be. The average Japanese person does not seem to make the connection that sexualizing real high school teenagers portrayed in anime does not have real consequences for all of the actual female high school students who wear uniforms in Japan. But it does. The uniforms are not as sexy as they are portrayed and most of the young women are not as bubbly or full of falling cleavage as their counterparts. Japan doesn’t make the connection that allowing this portrayal is sexual violence, but they do take great pains to pixelate all the adult consensual porn scenes. The result is a misguided sex and repressed sexual culture. Because Japanese communication is indirect to the point of saying the opposite of what they mean to save face, this is one of the main formulas in Japanese porn. “No means yes” is about 90% of the sex that we see with Japanese women, she is protesting and saying “it hurts” “stop” “I can’t” and then she has a squirting orgasm to her own surprise! I have searched the internet for the very few Japanese women who are actually a FUCK YES, FUCK NOW, FUCK HARD. It is a rarity but there are a small few Moe Oishii is one of the few I can watch. Do a search for her. She's a Japanese porn revolutionary just because she never says no.

#itwasme #metoo

My earliest memories of violating someone’s consent were at the age of 5. I would chase this boy named Kent around the kindergarten and kiss him in front of everyone who laughed in glee at my antics. Even the teacher did not stop me. I think I even kissed this boy for show and tell one day. Perhaps because he never stood up to me, I could be seen as a bully. He never stood up for himself, he was clearly non consensual and not enjoying or reciprocating my affection. I was absolutely in the wrong and yet everyone allowed this to go on because I was a little girl predator initiating a chase on my little boy prey and not vice versa. So cute! Also, this was 1981, schools today have millenials as teachers and there would likely be a lesson on consent attached to this teachable moment squeezed in with the phonics of the day. A-A-apple, B-B-boy, C-C-consent! Fast forward to one night when I was working as an escort in LA. I was actually finishing up with a male client when I got a call from a female, flirtatious and asking if I could come by. My bisexual libido was aroused because it is so rare to get calls from women. I gave her the normal run down of my rate and she gave me her address. I threw up a peace sign to John while laughing and we joked about how much fun I was going to be having in the next hour. I drove from that client’s apartment far and deep into the San Fernando Valley. It probably took me about an hour to get to her house. When I arrived, she was noticeably drunk. There are no rules about sober consent in the sex work game for male or female clients because more than 50% of our clients are not sober, and because sex work, especially the way that I did it often followed the rules of the street, if the client made a call, they would either pay or play. My normal routine was to collect money before starting. I put my bag down while she looked at me from the couch seductively. “Can I get $250 from you please?” Her seductive eyes turned innocent and she put her finger on her cheek. “$250?” she laughed and moved closer to me. “What are you talking about?” She moved in to kiss me. I returned her passion. It was hot. I love women and women like this know this. I had spent the entire hour driving to her house thinking about how much fun it would be to fuck her even though I’d not seen her face, I was sure by the sound of her voice that she knew what she wanted and that alone was sexy enough for me given that women barely ever initiate booking of services from sex workers. When this happens, it happens about once a year and I am always more than happy to oblige with off the clock extras, kissing (i don’t usually kiss male clients) and whatever I feel like doing. I have a completely different attitude that I have with most female clients because they are like hitting gold in the sea of johns. I pulled my face away from her. “So you called me all the way over here and you don’t have any money?” I said, suddenly coming to my senses and realizing her manipulative tactics. She said nothing but kept trying to kiss me. “Who is going to pay for my time and gas?” I said pushing her gently back to the couch she was sitting on. “Don’t be mad.” she said. “Can we go back to your place and just have fun?” she said reaching for a bottle of some liquor in a green bottle. “Why can’t we just stay here?” I asked sitting next to her. “I have a roomate and she’s a fucking bitch. C’mon.” she said sliding her leg between mine. “Let’s get out of here.” At that moment, I punched out of my self employed work clock and decided that I would just fuck her for free because getting paid was going to be icing on the cake and admittedly I was feeling pretty typical “guy like” in my conquest of her body. I was going to get this pussy whether she paid me or not. She initiated my desire, after all, she would have to pay in cash or something else, I remember thinking. I drove her back to my house in LA from the Valley, another 45 minutes and rolled around in my bed with all my toys and lube and then I remember her passing out and kind of not reciprocating suddenly. I took that as a sign that she wanted to go to sleep so I pulled her naked body close to mine and went to sleep. 2 hours later at 5am before the sun rose, I felt her texting someone and then twenty minutes later rise suddenly and throw on her clothes and walk quietly down the stairs. She was clearly trying to sneak out, so I let her. I heard someone in a car pick her up and I just allowed her to go without speaking because I knew the routine as I’ve done it to many men before. That morning, however, I was that guy. It was me. I knew I fucked up but I didn’t really think too much of it actually because I felt justified in my actions still. She called me 2 days later with noticeable regret in her voice. “I-I don’t know what really happened that night. I was really really drunk. I just need to know if you have any STDs or anything.” she asked. I told her I had oral herpes and I could hear her soul just crumble. “But, I really don’t think you have anything to worry about.” I said recounting the sex acts that we did. That phone conversation and the awkward morning was the last time I would have sex with a drunk girl who was falling all over my libido. I learned that the morning after phone call from a devastated woman who felt violated was not one I ever wanted to have again. I learned about alcoholic blackout behavior through web research, how a black out means that the person has lost consciousness but is not necessarily passed out on the floor. I always thought that a blackout meant that they were passed out, not gone from being conscious in their mind. Blacked out people can get into fights with loved ones, assault people, damage property, drive cars and worse without their own body and mind’s consent and take everyone around them on a non consenting destructive ride with them if these people are not aware of the signs of this behavior. The key is that they do not and will not remember the details of the black out. I forgive myself, I really truly did not know any of this until after this night. And since the bisexual libido in me was actually something of a dude aching to get his dick sucked, until he like Aziz grew up through learning through terrible experiences what the consequences of his conquest mindset could actual be an act of violence. She was also guilty in this and hopefully will have also learned from her behavior. This is where the shades of gray come into play. No perfect victim, no perfect predator. What is required is willingness to learn, correct and forgive in copious amounts so that we can all get the sex we desire and feel absolutely good about it the morning after, a year or even a decade after.

Too Big Too Small Same Advice

One of the things that I most proud of lately is that I coach men on Niteflirt amongst all the porn fantasy girls offering coaching sessions on sexuality not phone sex. Men who call on this website are usually looking to masturbate and get off on some quick fantasy and those calls can last for about 3-10 minutes,but a lot my coaching calls have lasted for 60 minutes talking to seekers about various things around their sex lives. I tell them that I don't humiliate or run fantasy in my profile, which if they don't read, they will waste their $2.95 per minute and be disappointed that I'm not any kind of fantasy that will help them cum as fast as possible. Men with shame around their penis have the same problem, they aren't able to bond with the women that they desire. A man with a large penis is actually given much of the same advice as the man with the small penis. The right woman who can see you for who you are not what your body parts are is going to love you for how you make love from your heart and soul not just your cock. I"m going to emphasize that I say THE RIGHT WOMAN which is someone who is also matching you as a genuine soul after you've dealt with your insecurity issues. The process of other's acceptance of our bodies happens AFTER we first accept our own bodies. And it's great that I have the guy with the penis that is too big because I can tell the guy with the "tiny" penis the same thing. Most of what is done in phone sex with penis size is superficial worship or humiliation. And then, I suspect, and maybe this might even be true of the guy with the penis that is too large there is a lot of self fulfilling fantasy where the seeker isn't telling the truth of their issue and is just getting fake advice from their projected self. This has happened to me a lot but I can't really ever be sure, i just have my suspicions. Too Big doesn't do video calls with me, but he talks about being as big as the Black porn star Mandingo. I don't necessarily like big dick, I tell him. The physical is not what drives the best sex, it is part of it but not all of it. It's not the sustainable part. I recall hating my escort client with the Big Black Dick. He liked to push me into places of pain and resistance, he took pleasure out of my agony and after a while, I gave up on trying to endure. I couldn't even fake it. So size doesn't always mean anything to me. This is often a myth that we are fed through media and porn star worship. So many men are worshipping porn penis instead of their own, but its also conditioned into a lot of women in society. Size matters, size jokes, sitcom punchlines all about wanting big dick but I've been with too many big dicks that did nothing, absolutely nothing for me. I'm going to have to say that shape matters more than size and that there are certainly some keys that fit my keyhole like magic. Again, flashing back to my escort days where I would just have the most physical of the physical encounters but it would fall short of the person caring about me as a person so I couldn't keep going back after a while. Good sex is not sustainable without good and genuine connection based in love and acceptance. I recently saw the Last Jedi, so I had Star Wars fresh on the mind when I hadn't seen a SW movie in decades and obviously wasn't a real fan. But the metaphor of the light saber was so perfect for me to coach LITTLE into an energetically moving call that had him feeling like he could penetrate me all the way up to the top of my head and fill me with his light sword was so easily drawn into our minds and we were just vibing off of each other's ENERGY. I explained energy cock to him, that energy cock was infinite and longer than even Mandingo. I didn't need a genetic penis, I had an energy cock and I could penetrate so a man could feel, and I could feel it if you put your mouth around a strap on attached to my energy cock. It was any size I wanted it to be and that was usually larger than the entire room. I activated it. I used the force. It was real. Try me!

The curse of dating in Japan

I’m ending my first year living in Japan having experienced a full range of new rules around gender and sexuality, good and bad. GOOD: wait there must surely be some good? My friends often tell me that when I talk about Japan, I hardly have anything good to say about it. It’s good to be tested and it’s good to be out of one’s comfort zone. I think that those are good things. I had gotten to used to way things were in North America. I was a flower and boys were like birds and bees. It seemed like the law of nature that would remain unchangeable, WAKE UP CALL: it had changed when I moved countries. Even the non Japanese men were not naturally attracted to me. I was suddenly whisked back to the days of being a sexy high school teenager that had very few friends and was not in the popular crowd. The popular guys would at least be attracted to me sexually and use me for sex or making out, which to a 15 or 16 year old girl looking to get experiences seemed empowering. Since I am long past high school, when the boys who do approach me come up to me as an adult in Tokyo, they are drunk and far too forward or they are online and far too forward and they have no sense of how to flirt or actually connect with me. Or they just use me as a practice ground for conversations of interest when their reality has no space for the reality of us (they are married or something else). They aren’t willing to take me out on a date or have a get to know me conversation, they ask immediately for a kiss or sex. I can assess if a man is actually feel me from a soul level or just horny. Being a flesh container for horniness is no longer empowering, even if I get paid for it. For many many years, about fifteen or so I would be that container and make a good living from it and it felt empowering until it didn’t. When I was in high school I was collecting experiences of youth and it was exciting even when I knew that the boys who were with me weren’t really seeing me in the way that I longed to be seen. When I was a sex worker I lived my life in a way that told me and the boys in the bodies of men that I did not care. I got my power from making money off of the physical desires of men. When you notice a pattern, it is said that three times it happens in a row then the pattern is not usually them, but it is you. I am currently looking at this and restructuring how I approach the dating world of Japan. I have had issues meeting people where they are at, even if we are all in Japan. The non Japanese men that I meet seem to want something that is not in me, or perhaps they are like me and wanting to run away from the similarities in their home countries that I reflect. I prefer to date someone that speaks Japanese. I don’t want to date someone who speaks English only because I know that a good relationship involves spending lots of quality time together and I can’t sacrifice that time in my journey of becoming fluent in Japanese to be speaking English only. This could be limiting my choices. I don’t think so. I have opened myself up to meeting with people who speak English but they still don’t call me. Maybe I'm stubborn on my standards. I believe he or she is out there.

#metoo #ustoo #whorestoo Part 2

As an escort, I met Hollywood producers of films and music. I have always been a musician and multimedia performer since my youth. I was tempted with opportunities and promises to get my music heard or a role in a film. Because of my years in the sex game, I was possibly better at the hustle that some of these A list celebrities might have been. Women in Hollywood are expected to be whores but get docked for taking roles that are too trashy because they will be type cast. Many of them even become outspoken about those of us in the sex industry even as they claim to be sex positive on their shows. So the mouthpiece of oppression against women also wears a dress in order to make things even more complex. Think of the assistants who were complicit in setting up meetings for Weinstein to rape in his hotel suites. This is why these types of men, the same type as my 25 year old boss who took his 15 year old to the night baseball game wanted someone green and naive and willing to please. But, even at 15 I knew better. I told my coworker and he told our supervisor and a whole disciplinary action meeting was called in our office, I quit and went back to school after that summer. He never got what he wanted from me but an arm around me at a game and a few teen sex stories from his office worker.

I feel like what makes Rose McGowan so fierce is because she was, at a young age born into a sexually abusive cult and emancipated herself from it and jumped into a different cult, the Hollywood film industry; and similar to me in my early days of sex work felt empowered and unstoppable until meeting Weinstein. Women like us decided early on: NEVER AGAIN. But, this doesn’t mean that the break is clean. Life, after all is not a Hollywood movie, even and especially if you are fucking with Hollywood people. I’ve met music producers who promised red carpets, who have worked with Rihanna on tracks, men who were musicians with gold records on their studio walls, with pictures of celebrities that I knew and admired. They seemed to definitely talk just like the accounts of actors who have been preyed upon by Weinstein and Louis CK and Kevin Spacey and Cosby and...and...and (insert more names but we will run out of room). I told myself that no opportunity was worth it if I had to be pimped to be in it. For me as an independent escort, being pimped was more than having an agency book clients for me, pimped was the abusive slimy pimp power that looks and hurts the same as relationship violence in prostitution. It is the coercion and fear of losing your mind and body in a way that relationship violence does to all those that are submissive within it. It is the eventual conditioning to love and protect your daddy/abuser/pimp. I know about the hunger to go beyond being a backpage escort into legit fame, I lived in Los Angeles, I worked with these guys Hollywood hotels, roach motels and mansions in the hills. This was my 5 to 9. (am). But, I had in my mind a specific way that it should feel if I were to do it, and the opportunities that were proposed to me never felt like they would carry me to where I wanted to go. Many women don’t know how to say no to golden carrots, and in sex work we learn how to do this quickly because our lives and livelihood depend on it. This morning I get a text from someone asking me “Have I ever been a personal assistant to a millionaire?” and as I start screening him transparently with basic but assertive questions, I tell him,”I am assessing your credibility.” he stops texting. “It seems like you have a problem with me.” Conversation over, but for many of these women who were victims of Weinstein it was where a spark of hope began.

The way that it is told to us how Cosby drugged his victims is luckily something that I never encountered. The drugs I did with clients, we did together, consensually and they were always days more fucked up on substances than the few hours of lines that I was doing. The thing that I believe looking death in the eyes and learning how to smile while saying “Nope, I’m not going with you. Not today, Satan.” is the thing that years of escorting in LA taught me. Over the years, I met famous people who were sweet and kind and wanted not even intercourse from me. They wanted to be seen as regular guys with human needs. This is another thing that escorting in LA taught me. Once, I even walked into the million dollar home of one of the writers of what I consider to be stomach on the floor the funniest movie of all time (and it wasn’t a Louis CK film). I enthusiastically offered to him that I would be his assistant and water his plants and walk his dog if he wanted. We didn’t have sex. And he never called me again. So, while, abuse of power comes as no surprise, not all men with power and connections abuse their power and want to prey on their admirers. Of the nice guys with connections and fame that I met, I never was afforded any opportunities that led to anywhere mainstream. They often say all the players in Hollywood are prostitutes and pimps and since I was an escort I thought I might fit well in the glittering glamour of it all, but the basic business tactics and realness of sex work probably created a wall that protected me from it. I hope it all changes after this shit settles, and I actually have a little bit of hope that it will, because evolution and fall of empire is inevitable.