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Monthly Archives: July 2012

Adult cartoons: conservative agenda?

South Park. Family Guy. The Simpsons. They’re ultra-liberal, filled with swear-words, innuendos and sometimes sexually explicit comments. A show like Family Guy, which has the word “penis” in half its episodes and utilises phrases like “your penis would shoot right off your body”, “my daughter’s womb is not a wildfire for you to douse with your adolescent seed” and show scenes of rape, sex addiction, kinky sex, and puppy-babies concieved by bestiality is not usually thought of as furthering the agenda of the religious right. But it does. Don’t get me wrong, Family Guy is my favourite thing on TV, IloveitIloveitIloveitIloveitIloveit. All these cartoons work against the right-wing agenda and mock it in many ways. But here is how it, and other adult cartoons, do further that agenda:

In The Simpsons, Family Guy and American Dad, the mothers are all housewives with no friends.

In all the above shows as well as the Cleveland Show, the focus is on a male character

The father is irresponsible, lazy and doesn’t do housework – especially Homer Simpson and Peter Griffin. The boys – especially Bart Simpson, Eric Cartman and Rallo Tubbs- cause chaos (which is not seen as deviant), while the girls are quiet (especially Lisa Simpson and Meg Griffin) or only cause ‘trouble’ to their parents by parental fear of their sexuality (Roberta Tubbs and Meg Griffin) or political views (Hayley Smith). In contrast, the mothers care for the kids and do not pull crazy stunts of their own – an exception is Family Guy’s Lois, but her stunts (kleptomania, revealing that she was in a porn film) pale in comparison to Peter’s.

In the first episode of The Cleveland Show, the mother is depicted as unable to control her children after becoming a lone mother. Only Cleveland, acting as a father figure, can restore discipline.

This ‘discipline’ includes controlling 15 year old Roberta’s sexuality by physically intimidating her boyfriend. This patriarchal control is juxtaposed with Cleveland’s freedom to have sex with Roberta’s mother at the very moment that Roberta’s sexuality is subject to his control

In contrast, Roberta’s 5 year old brother is encouraged by Cleveland to be sexual. Cleveland teaches him to invent a reason for having to peek up girls’ skirts, a behaviour which resulted in him being expelled in the first place.

Cleveland’s assertion that the kids “need some fathering” – mothering being inadequate

Robert’s absence supposedly caused the kids to misbehave; however, as a drunk who is disinterested in his children, how could he have disciplined them when he lacks discipline himself? The message is that even a drunk dad can parent better than a working, caring, sober mom.

Roberta is portrayed as accepting her boyfriend’s decision to take her home early/not have sex. Cleveland is controlling her through her boyfriend, and likewise her boyfriend is able to control her sexuality.

In one episode, Roberta is almost forced by peer pressure and a TV camera to flash her breasts, along with many other girls, but her stepbrother saves her by pretending to be a girl and flashing his chest. This implies that it is not good to flash your breasts for a TV show and that women are exploited in the adult entertainment industry. Roberta was portrayed as a victim with no agency who had to be saved by a younger male relative. The fate of flashing was portrayed as dire.

 

In Family Guy, Peter is pathologically possessive of his daughter Meg when she dates a trainee doctor – even stalking them in disguise- and attempts to shoot him when Meg is pregnant.

In the current season, both Peter and Lois stop Meg having sex with Glenn Quagmire even though she’s already 18. Meg is portrayed as accepting this.

While Glenn and Herbert are sex predators and Peter frequently uses very sexual language, the female characters are not permitted such expression. Even when Lois is revealed to have starred in a porn film, the revelation leads to her becoming a social pariah which is the main content of the episode. However, when male characters commit rape, cheat, repeatedly attempt child molestation, commit bestiality, abduct people for sex, etc, they suffer no consequences and their actions remain secret. These actions constitute very small portions of the episodes, in contrast to Lois’ porn movie, Lois’ sexy photo, Loretta’s affair, Meg’s boyfriend/subsequent pregnancy, Bonnie’s affair or Peter’s boss Angela sexually harassing him. The mens’ actions are not portrayed as problematic or deviant. They seem to happen as a result of the mens’ libido. However, the womens’ actions are problematized by the community and the family. Their actions seem to come from problems: lack of money (Lois making the porno), unhappy marriage (Loretta and Bonnie having affairs, Lois kissing Meg’s boyfriend) being naive and/or used (Jillian-Brian, Meg-Quagmire and Cheryl Teags-Brian) and being suicidal (Angela). The men suffer no consequences for their actions except Quagmire’s friends being annoyed with him when he is caught spying on Lois, and Lois being annoyed with him for trying to sleep with Meg. By contrast the women get publically shamed on TV (Lois’ porn film), lose public office (Lois’ photo), are discovered cheating (Loretta and Bonnie), have a pregnancy scare, a forced marriage, then lose their boyfriend (Meg) go to prison for harbouring a fugitive (Meg) accidentally make out with their brother (Meg) get dumped, get obssessed, perform a kidnap and get told to wait for the right man by Quagmire, a pervert – double standard much?(Meg), attempt suicide when attraction is unreciprocated (Angela).

When Lois briefly becomes a lone mother in the episode ‘Big man on the hippocampus’, the family’s income drops ridiculously low.

In South Park, being a slut is linked to being stupid and spoiled, and in a slut contest the male slut (Mr Slave) wins over the female slut (Paris Hilton). It is not suggested that Mr Slave is stupid or spoiled. The girls of South Park then immediately stop being sluts.

The only lone mother portrayed is Eric Cartman’s mother, and her son is completely out of control. She is also portrayed as promiscuos and as not knowing who Eric’s father is.

 

 

 

 

 
5 Comments

Posted by on July 30, 2012 in Feminism, Film, Media

 

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Slutty dreams

Ah, ‘slut’. The perfect word. I am a slut. What kind of disgusting slut would sell her body? And not only agree to such a thing, persuaded by a much older company director, but actually go to a nude modelling shoot to see if this is the right man to sell her virginity to. It’s absolutely disgusting. Dirty. Sordid. Unseemly. Naughty. Bad girl. Obscene. Licentious. Libidinous. Perverted.

I hope by the end of it I feel used and dirty. I tried to cry when I ran away from Roland and he cornered me, demanding that I could either give him a blowjob now or do it “with a sore bottom” [back in a sec]

Right, where was I? Oh, yes. I wanted to cry, but I cannot cry at will, something that I regret. I can act very well and can lie very well, but I cannot cry, though I can fake crying and people will believe it. (Then Roland was all like, ‘If you don’t want to then we don’t have to’ which left me feeling insulted; what gave him the idea I couldn’t do it?? Except that I attempted to run away from him, then later did run upstairs where he cornered me). Then he was all like, ‘Are you really sure?’ about six times in different words. Why didn’t he just stab my bum with the knife and carry me downstairs, take the knife out, put it to my throat and tell me to get sucking? (Note: this is not a serious rhetorical question, unlike in 50 shades where Ana wakes up in a hotel and is all ‘Why didn’t Christian rape me while I was unconscious?’)

Anyway, the point of this post is that the other night I had a dream…a song to sing. I was in a student flat while a stunning boy one or two years older than me, with black, floppy hair (which I like) had sex with me. He knew I was a virgin. It hurt a bit but went on for a long time and was great. After that we drank coffee and agreed not to see each other again because we had fulfilled our agreement. Then I woke up in bed, realizing that I’d been dreaming about last night, took a morning-after pill, checked the time, realized I should’ve taken it before, wondered if I should go get emergency contraception, and went back to sleep.

Then I REALLY woke up and after a few minutes of worrying about this and deciding to go to the doctor for emergency contraception, I realised it’d been a dream.

I think the dream was showing me/was my brain showing me what would’ve happened if I hadn’t sold my virginity. That I could’ve had my dream man as a hookup but not been paid. My brain was idealizing the encounter – dream boy, no commitments. However, it seems that my subconcious thinks that unplanned pregnancy or stress would have resulted from it. I wonder if my subconcious was telling me why I must not annoy Roland – “Even if you found your dream man, you would be unhappy because you lost the opportunity to sell yourself”. -As Freud would say. He does oversimplify things and read sex into absolutely everything. However, in my case it’s warranted as the dream was about sex. And my dream was telling me that Roland is the opposite; someone I find deeply unattractive, but with whom I would apparently not get pregnant (for some reason). Or was the dream telling me that pregnancy from a student would only bring anxiety, whereas pregancy from Roland (if carried to term) would bring lots of money (child support)?

Possible meanings of the dream:

If I have sex I risk unplanned pregnancy

Sex with someone other than Roland is risky/Roland is safe

You can have a dream boy and stress, or Roland and money

You should get pregnant by Roland to get child support

At all costs avoid getting pregnant

There are so many methods of contraception that you won’t get pregnant

Losing your virginity will result in anxiety

You should break the deal and lose virginity to someone your age

If you don’t sell yourself to Roland, you will be stressed

Do not be a virgin when you have vaginal sex with Roland

Get pregnant by a good-looking man so your baby will look good, then tell Roland he is the daddy

If you don’t love Roland, as he claims, you shouldn’t have sex with him

The deal is a bad idea – you should hook up once and no more

 

 

 

 

 

 

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…And that’s a post!

The top three search engine terms that brought people to this sordid blog today were:

When does Ana get spanked with a belt in 50 shades

Sell virginity 2012

I want to have sex with my boss but he’s way older than me

 

What is the world coming to and where on Earth is Nadine Dorries when you need her? Please take away our freedom and stop us from fornicating!!

 

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Mama I’m in love with a pervert

Mama I’m in love with a criminal. And this type of love isn’t rational, it’s physical. (it’s physical). This song by Britney Spears was playing in an arty clothing shop in Glasgow as I was spending my prostitution earnings. I’m playing it right now. The rest of the lyrics after this are: Mama please don’t cry, I will be alright/and all reason aside, I just can’t deny, I love that guy./He’s a rebel with a tainted heart/And even I am just a tart.

Roland thinks that I think I love him, so if I did my song (to the same tune of Criminal) would be:

Mama I’m in love with a pervert now.

And this type of love isn’t rational, it’s physical. (It’s physical).

Mama please don’t judge him cos he treats me right,

And I got all the fucking that I need all night. (all night long).

He’s got a corporate facade but a pervert’s core

And he’s the perfect mate for me, a whore.

Mama please don’t sigh, he’s not my only man

Your daughter’s proud to be a slut and she has ten.

Mama please don’t cry, he got millions

I’ll love him till I meet a guy with billions (with billions)

He’s a pervert but an educated one

And furthermore the sex is really fun.

Mama, he’s the one I have to marry

If I really want that red Ferrari!

 

Mama please don’t cry, your baby’ll be alright

As long as she can fuck three hours a night. (Three hours a night)

And Roland is my soulmate, I can tell

By his balance sheet and his car as well

Mama he’s polyamorous like me

And he holds the key for me, to set me free.

He’s a dirty old man with no qualms

But he’s giving me 8000 pounds

See, he’s of financial benefit to me

And also I’m learning how to fuck for free.

He’s a professional who loves his art,

And I’m a kinky bitch without a heart.

 

Mama I’m in love with a pervert now,

And this type of love isn’t spiritual; it’s professional

I’m a prostitute who likes electric drills

So, if I lived my fantasies, I’d kill.

What I want to do to him is criminal

And my self-control at best is miminal (it’s minimal)

Mama, my dreams are the devil’s art

But rape and torture are dear to my heart.

Mama please don’t cry, I won’t set him on fire

All laws aside, I can’t deny, wanna rape that guy.

The Government can’t torture me in Britain,

This is a situation that’s not worth living,

But worse still, if I use electricity

On him without consent, they’d imprison me.

 

Mama, Roland’s fucking a criminal

He doesn’t know my sex drive is so powerful

Mama I’m scared I’m gonna lose control

And end up in jail, cos you know, I’m a ho.

Mama do you know where to get a taser?

It’d be cool if I could find a laser

He’s a fucking pervert, a predator

But an educated fucking pervert, so that’s better.

Mama, I’m in love with a pervert now,

I’m a pure virgin with my innocence in tow

Mama, do you think he’s too much for me?

If he loves me back, I might get that Ferrari.

 

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Roland thinks I love him and I don’t know why and didn’t make this happen so why is it happening?

This is my first non-ecstatic post. Roland thinks (or thought, maybe he believes me now) that I am (or think I am, or soon will be) in love with him. I don’t know why this is happening, and things that happen outwith my instigation or control really irritate me. I wish he’d grow more hair so that his accusation would be less ludicrous. I think it also reminds me that Roland is a real person, not just my buyer, client or sex toy, with real independent thoughts that I cannot control.

I like Roland, which is of course very unusual in the sex industry, but I have heard that it is not all that unusual with regular clients. Anyway: I like him but how could I love him? He’s not bad looking, but he’s way older than me and has the hair thing going on. And even if I did fall in love with him, he’s in a polyamorous marriage and I’m polyamorous and a commitmentphobe so what would be the difference? I’d just let him have me for free, which he’d like of course. The only difference would be that I’d miss him when it ended, but I’d get over it just like everybody else.

Just because I text him more than twice a month doesn’t mean I think I love him. And there was a point to that particular text, and the ones before it: That Belle de Jour knows about us; answers to his questions about how I met Dr Magnanti; and a text saying I forgot to say I discovered I like being ‘forced’ to give blowjobs, which is true.

I don’t feel any more of a connection with him than I do with Glasgowsexworker, who has a blog on here and is a friend’s friend (wasn’t going to give out this information, but it is already in the comments on a previous post so people are going to know) i.e. a connection of ideas, interests, etc. Yes, I like him. He’s funny and very knowledgeable. But I don’t think I love him, and I won’t in future either. At a time like this, I would think “Hmmm…what would Belle de Jour do?” but I just met her 2 days ago so her persona has lost its magic; I know she’s a scientist and former call girl who had the same experience as thousands of other call girls and was talented enough to write a great blog and get an award, then lucky enough to get her book published. I look up to her but when you meet someone in real life, you realise that however intelligent they are, they are just a regular person. (Actually, hearing her talk and reading her book made me realise she is even smarter than what I thought before and I like her even more now, but I also realised she is just a regular person.)

Our texts while Lochlan and I were in Browns [he uploaded a pic of me to Facebook, updated his status and ‘liked’ my status, as well as texting; I updated my status, ‘liked’ the pic, and texted – what is the world coming to? We are so reliant on social media and texting instead of being social in real life!]:

Me (trying to appear like I’d drank more than I had – I’d had 5 or 6 drinks- so he wouldn’t think me texting him was annoying]: I met Brooke Magnanti/Belle de Jour and I told her!! Not using my real name or identifying you obv. Isnt that amazing?!!! Its so good being me, it must suck to be anyone else! Yeah! Go Kalika! Go Kalika! Yeah biitchezz!! [I think I surpassed the brief here!]

Roland: Wow! Where did you meet her?

Me:At a talk my friend Lochlan, whos into sex activism as he has sex worker friends, took me to in glasgow. I told her i got the idea to blog about the adventure from her, that she is my inspiration, and i got a copy of her latest book The Sex Myth.

Roland:Btw you were discovered by a hair, a sequin, a toe or fingernail, and a neighbour while we were in Leigh 🙂

Me: Oh. Really sorry about that. Did u manage to lie your way out of it? Hope America was fun. Lochlan bumped into a sex worker friend at the talk who has a blog too that I’ve commented on, shes seen my blog and told him that I’m unusually sexually self-assured for a virgin. Miss your cock, Queen Tut xxxx

and: Sorry. Is Leigh the part of Newcastle we wer in? I think your wife lives up to her name [a Scots pun on her nickname]

Me, the next day: Sorry for loads of txts, just forgot to mention the last time I saw u that i found out i rly like giving blowjobs and u completely humiliated me and dominated me and made me your bitch, and i like being debased and my mouth used as a cock-hole because it’s so embarrassing and dehumanizing like I’m nothing. I like a warm dick thrust into my mouth until I gag. Also, I guess the sequin was from the knife, I won’t bring it again anyway.

Roland: Well my dear, humiliation and domination are two sides of the same sexy coin. I enjoy, primarily, giving you what you want and finding out what you need. The chaste whore in you is obviously in need of something…

and, separately:

Btw please remember what I said. Women want to seem to be the way they think the men they think they love want them to be…

Me: I’ll remember that if I ever fall in love. Not that I will, because that would be cheating on my reflection, with whom I have a monogamous relationship.

Roland: This applies whether the man is their daddy, their lover, their teacher, or a total and complete pervert 🙂

Me:I knew what u meant the first time. I’ve never thought I was in love, except with myself of course. And if I was in love – not that I’m capable of commitment-love – I would say so. I don’t play games like other women. I just want my Ferrari and private jet, not some hubby to poke in the missionary position.

And, later: Why would that even be a possibility? [I will keep the rest to myself – not for anonymity, just because I’m not sure if that text was the right one…I am confused.] I don’t want to annoy my most precious source of income, but what if I have? Confusion is alien to me. I am always utterly sure of myself. How can Roland confuse me, when no-one else can? He’s so unique and unpredictable. I hope he tells me to wait somewhere for him, then beats me and ties me up, stuffs me in his car boot and drives me into the woods, spanks me until I cry and rapes me. He’s probably quirky enough to do it. Perhaps I should suggest this to him after the consummation, but I don’t know if that’s his kink. I’d ask him for a nude pic, but it’d probably just convince him more that I’m in love with him. Why does he think this? He has no evidence to support his conclusion. I’m not entirely sure of the next text I sent, either. This was the last I sent:  I appreciate your concern tho, its nice that you care about me beyond sex. You’re like Brooke’s clients. Well u are a call girl level client, so I suppose it makes sense. I bet streetwalkers’ punters are totally different.

He hasn’t replied, does that mean he’s just bored of texting me, or is he annoyed by what I said, or doesn’t believe me, or he believes me and has dropped it? Why can’t I build a spanking machine like Kane did and put him in it? Actually, I’ll build it in a few weeks. Heh. Also, why do men have a thinking/talking function when you just need their cock?

It would be easier if we’d been talking face to face. Roland has said similar things before – that this blog is potentially obsessive because it’s about him – (it’s not, it’s about me and my adventure), that I might make myself believe he loves me, etc. I think he has a Moulin Rouge fantasy where the hooker falls in love with the guy. It’s one of my favourite films as I love the soundtrack and the theme of prostitution. Did that happen in Pretty Woman too? I don’t like feeling confused. I shall eat chocolate to make this all go away. Why is getting paid 1000’s to fuck so complicated? If I was Queen Tut I’d kill somebody right now.

 

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Reclaiming “morality”

It’s time.Reclaiming words like “slut” is important, but reclaiming words like “morals”, “morality” “immorality” and “family values” is equally important.

Why? So people can’t hijack these words to gloss over their hate speech or anti-democratic agendas. Which people am I talking about? To name a few: Rick Santorum, Rick Perry, anti equal marriage campaigners in Britain, certain American legislators, Ann Widdecombe, Rush Limbaugh, certain UK bishops and cardinals…the list goes on, and the problem is global; I have chosen to name Western people because they are more known to me.

Why should we reclaim these words?

“moral” means the right thing to do; a good thing. Denying innocent people birth control, the right to marry, equality, the right to have a family, respect, the right not to carry a rapist’s baby to term when their life is endangered by the preganancy, denying validation of one’s sexuality, gender choice or partner, dividing communities by sexuality or marital status, dividing parents and children by the same divisions, et cetera, is not moral. It is not the right, good, or ethical thing to do.

Ditto for “morality”.

“immoral” is the opposite of moral (see above).

“Family values” means valuing and validating the family, putting the family (as opposed to the individual, community or society) as a priority. Does ridiculing and criticising polyamorous, same-sex, trans, or umarried peoples’ families help these families and value them? Does valuing the family mean preventing parents from ever starting a family by adoption, or encouraging young parents to give up their children for adoption, or denying welfare to female parents who have a second child while unmarried? Ummm…no.

So, as you can see, these words are not being used correctly at all – their meaning has been completely twisted to mean the opposite. But we can change them back! If we use the word “moral” as synonymous with “ethical”, “right”, “good”, and “honorable”, and “morality” as synonymous with “human rights”,  then we will take their confusing language away from them. We can take the moral high ground and speak out for equal marriage, polyamorous marriage, an end to slut-shaming, rape culture and stigma of sex workers, lone mothers and “sluts” in the name of morality. We can condemn the sexual double standard and homophobia as immoral. We can advocate for family values to take precedence and legalise equal marriage in its name. Imagine the possibilities!

Come on, guys and girls! Let’s make “morality” OUR word, and our goal.

 
2 Comments

Posted by on July 27, 2012 in Feminism, Sex work

 

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I meet Dr Magnanti/Belle de Jour, who inspired me to make this blog

My friend Lochlan invited me to a Facebook event to Dr Brooke “Belle de Jour” Magnanti’s talk on sex myths about adult entertainment causing violence. It was really good – well analysed, with irrefutable evidence to back up all her results and claims about previous studies not taking account of crucial factors such as population growth. (You should buy her book, ‘The Sex Myth’. It’s not a feminist book as she doesn’t identify as a feminist; it is a collection of essays which prove that sex trafficking into the UK is almost nonexistent, that women aren’t lees visual or less sexual than men, that teens aren’t more sexualised now than before and a lot of other myths. It’s all true by the way – the decade with the highest rate of teenage pregnancy was the 1950’s!)

I had always thlought that Brooke’s academic credentials are a powerful tool in her quest to spread the truth and get people to focus on the real issues instead of throwing away millions deporting illegal sex workers to stop sex trafficking and shutting down lap dancing clubs to stop rape. I do see her as a feminist; I think she is too generalising to lump all of feminism together; she could be identify as a liberal feminist; it was radical feminism that was/is sex-negative and criticised her for ‘betraying’ women by being a sex worker. But some sex workers are feminists. Actually, Brooke probably knows this but has chosen to drop the feminist label altogether. Anyway, at the Q and A section of the talk I realised that her academic reputation can also get in the way of her activism. I realised this when she ‘fudged’ the second question I asked, and although I usually despise this sort of thing – I once gave an EU Court of Justice Judge a hard time over fudging a question I’d asked which my lecturer then re-asked and he fudged it AGAIN – the lecturer couldn’t keep a straight face as I asked “where in the Treaty does it say that [and so on]” – I understood immediately why Brooke had to do it. She couldn’t risk getting quoted out of context or seeming too radical. If she did, this could make people not like her and not listen to the truth of her research. Then the feminist cause would be hurt by that, as she is a very valuable ‘asset’, if you will, to feminism in this country. And if I have to go without an answer to further the cause(s) that I fight blog/rant for, then I’ll do it gladly (and much more, if need be.)

I’d tried to read her book Secret Diary of a Call-Girl in Tesco’s about a year ago, but I just felt too envious of her to carry on reading, especially when she mentioned she’d firts got into the business as a dominatrix when she was a student – my dream student job. I’d always wanted to be a prostitute. I imagined myself working from a flat independently instead of being a call girl. It was also my dream to sell my virginity. As I read her book, I felt that I wanted to meet her, and also very jealous of her. But I also looked up to her for writing it, for giving this to society and changing stereotypes of STD-ridden working-class streetwalkers, letting us acknowledge educated women who were sex workers. And women with boyfriends who are sex workers. Telling us that prostitutes have parents.

So, I think Lochlan was not far off when he said “Is she your hero?” because, from a political point of view, the answer always had been “yes” even at my most envious moments.

Of course, she was my inspiration for this blog. I told her so.

As I had been jealous of her and simultaneously approved of her writing and saw her as a sort of role model, I was a bit – well, Lochlan referred to it as “starstruck” but nobody could tell, of course, as I can control my emotions. And I was aware that I was ‘starstruck’ because of how I saw her, and not because of who Dr Magnanti really is (i.e. a normal person who was good enough at writing to write an award-winning blog and a bestseller).

Dr Brooke Magananti’s talk summarised:

The belief that lap dancing clubs lead to increase in rape is false – studies that claimed it was true failed to account for population growth – rape actually went down (though Dr Magnanti doesn’t think lap dancing makes rape go down)

Studies showing that lots of children watch porn were not well conducted, using very small samples that were not representative

These issues are very complex and influenced by multiple factors

Policy shouldn’t be influenced by bad studies and shaky data

Sex trafficking is almost nonexistent, but is hyped up by the media

Bad studies are great for shock headlines, which concern the public and NGOs and perpetuate the cycle

I’d kind of been hoping I’d get to talk to her afterwards to get tips on how to raise awareness of certain feminist issues. So, let’s cut to when me and Lochlan are talking to her:

I’d had six drinks – Sangria and WKD (Lochlan had seven) and I was regretting this as we stood in line to talk to her during the break. I wanted to get my sentences in order so I could get tips on feminist activism and ask her some other stuff about the double standard and whatnot. I also wanted to tell her about Roland, because she would understand me. I am not saying my experience is the same as hers – I’ve not even read her memoirs, how can I – but I’m pretty certain judging by her book that she enjoyed selling herself and got pleasure out of it, just like me. I don’t know anyone else who’s ever done it. Actually, I might (you never know who’s done what – I don’t have “I’m Rolanding” taped to my forehead) especially if you count SeekArrangement.com as sex work, but they’re keeping quiet about it.

Lochlan had brought a copy of the old book for her to sign and I picked up ‘The Sex Myth’ right there before the talk. We got her to sign our books. Since I couldn’t count on not being accidentally eavesdropped or photographed by the journalists present, or anyone else, I asked her to make it out to Kalika, which she asked me to write on her hand since she couldn’t spell it. (It always hurts a bit when I write on my hand; does nobody else feel that?). (I knew she wouldn’t out me, as a former sex worker and scientist she’d be the last person in the world to do such a thing, obviously. And what would be in it for her? ‘BELLE DE JOUR EXPOSES GIRL SELLING VIRGINITY FOR 8K’ actually would ruin her far more than me (it would compromise her both as Belle de Jour, as she sold out a fellow sex worker, and also as an academic professional. As Roland would say, I’ve got nothing to lose) and she wouldn’t need the money even if guaranteed anonymity. It wasn’t her I was worried about, it was everyone else milling around that I couldn’t possibly keep an eye on while talking to her. It was the journalists, mainly, that I was worried about. Not only for that moment, but in case I was outed (or outed myself anonymously) in the future. After all, this blog will continue to be updated for months. I will market it. I never promised Roland I wouldn’t anonymously sell my story (I’m not saying I will – I’d rather wait a few years and sell it under my legal name when I’m a known feminist author or blogger (well, if!!!). It would be fun! And of course I’d keep Roland’s identity secret.) But, anyway, it was for the future that I was planning.

I admitted I hadn’t been able to read her first book because I’d been envious of her especially the dominatrix part and she said, “And now that you’ve seen me, you don’t need to be envious!”

“Well, it’s because I’m kind of doing something similar,” I said. It was hard to speak as eloquently as usual with all the drink, and I couldn’t see four sentences ahead like I usually can. “I’m selling my virginity,” I added. I didn’t even lower my voice, because calling myself Kalika was precaution enough. I think seeing her made me not care, too; after all, I’m selling myself to one guy, she is proud that she was selling herself to lots of guys. However, as Lochlan and I discussed later, she’s in a good place because she’s got a PhD and a successful career so it’s hard to criticise her. But I’d better wait till I’ve got a career till I out myself, and even then a teacher who wrote about her call girl experiences in a few articles was fired because she was once a call girl. So Brooke was lucky; maybe she was too well known to b fired as it would be very bad press if they fired her. Or maybe they can’t use the excuse that she’s working with kiddies so could pervert their innocent minds. Or gets on with her boss.

We were only talking for a few minutes but I think she’s very down to earth and not like what you’d expect, she’s very ‘real’ and a good person – not all sugary niceness, because even the most evil people can put that on -I mean ‘good’ as in sincere and dedicated to the truth. I’m not going to quote her anymore because she didn’t consent to her words being put on a blog. I know this post would be more interesting and longer if I just stuck in a transcript of the conversation, but I don’t think it’s fair.

So I’ll just write that Brooke: Thinks 50 Shades of Grey is just porn with no inherent feminist or sexual freedom values; was pleased that she was an inspiration to me for this blog; pointed me in the direction of a sociologist who was present to answer a raising-awareness question I had; and I think I’ll leave it at that.

Lochlan went off twice; he told me later that he bumped into his friend, who is a sex worker and blogs about sex activism. I’d suspected she’d be there; luckily, I was talking to Brooke so didn’t see her, so she’s still anonymous to me, though I must’ve walked right past her when I went to talk to the sociologist.

A few people went over to ask her questions at the end, too. Lochlan and I went to Browns on George square and had 2 cocktails each; I had a cosmo and a strawberry chocolate cocktail, had a grey-coloured drink and I can’t remember the other one. After a short fret to Lochlan over whether texting Roland about this would annoy him/seem needy, I texted Roland that I’d met Belle de Jour and told her about me selling virginity; I thought that would interest him. It must have, because he texted back something along the lines of Wow!!’How did you meet her?’ so we were texting for a little bit and I was reading his texts to Lochlan who of course only knows him by ‘Roland’ so it was hilarious (to me) that Lochlan was calling him ‘Roland’ constantly. I’d rather have called him so I could hear the surprise in his voice as I told him, but it went to voicemail and I was too tipsy to bother leaving a message. Then we went to Lochlan’s, stopping at a bar with live music along the way. I had a chocolate Russian and a Vanilla Russian, he had a White Russian and a Chocolate Russian. Neither of us were drunk though; I need a LOT to get drunk.

We walked on, talking about sex myths, sex work and Brooke and he asked me about Rolanding and I was like, “Well, I can only speak for myself but even if you wouldn’t do it if it wasn’t for the money, you can still get physical pleasure from it, obviously, because we’re biologically programmed to be that way. So even though Roland is really old, it’s still really fun. Like I thought I hated blowjobs but I love doing it. I’ve learned a lot about myself.”

“So you’re not just doing it for the money then? There’s something else?”

“Well, yeah, duh, the sex. I’m doing it for the sex as well, of course.”

“When are you actually going to have vaginal sex?”

“The time after next time, in a brothel. Well, a massage parlour.”

“Is that what you want?”

“I don’t give a shit. As long as I get my £1,000. Whatever makes him happy.”

“Really?”

“Why should I care? I’ll have to close my eyes though and pretend it’s someone who looks good. I’d prefer it if he wore a paper bag over his head, but obviously I wouldn’t be able to talk him into it.”

“Is he really that unattractive?”

“He’s okay, I guess,” I said, “He’s not fat and doesn’t have wrinkles. I think he would look good if he wasn’t old. I mean, he actually looks younger than his age. So I think when he was young, he was hot.”

“Are you afraid of getting old?”

“Well, Asians don’t age and neither do blacks, so…no.”

“Oh that’s good then.”

Then, in his flat, he got me a pillow and sheet on the sofa and I put the sleeping bag on top of it and went to sleep.

Today, Lochlan walked me to the subway. Knowing I was going shopping, he said “Are you going to spend some of Roland’s money?”

“Well, it’s mine now. I worked very hard for it.”

He left me at the subway, as he had to get to class. I pondered the missed opportunity of us making a pun on the word ‘blow’, like blowing money/blowing Roland. Then I remembered I’m scared of subways! But I was okay in the end, it is just waiting for the train that I don’t like, when its silent and then when you hear it coming. I’m okay with subways that have bigger platforms (in other countries) though. I got off in Buchanan Street and headed to H and M, bought denim shorts, black jeggings and a grey denim shirtdress (£54, didn’t even glance at the price tags) then a pair of wedge sandals out of River Island five minutes later. That was £100 gone in twenty minutes, a new record for me, but achieved only by Rolanding or I wouldn’t have splurged like that. I only bought a belt after that, though, so it wasn’t a massive shopping spree. I ended up wearing the wedges in Glasgow, putting my flats in the bag. I touched up my toenail varnish with the nail varnish I keep permanently in my bag for emergencies.

 

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Spanking, lies, and Paradise

Roland got the phone and we walked a bit. I was still wearing my purity ring, just twisted round so that it was plain silver except for a little Christian fish that was barely noticeable, so you couldn’t tell it was a purity ring. On my other hand I had a snake ring I’d got for £1 from Hillary’s Bazaar in my bellydancing days. It goes with my Egyptian(-y) style, though my looks are also influenced by Goth and Steampunk as well as current trends. I’m currently thinking of trying out a Steampunk-inspired ‘adventurer’ look with combat trousers/cargo pants, corsets and utility belts. (I can afford to experiment more now because of Roland.)

Roland’s neighbour walked right past us. Ah, the thrill of discovery! Roland said, “It’d be a good idea if we didn’t talk too loudly about what we’re doing when we’re inside, because someone might recognise me,” and this delighted me for some perverse reason. I couldn’t resist teasing him, saying “You know, if you didn’t pay me the 8k I’d go to the media with this story and then everyone would know. Like everyone you work with and your neighbours.” (Not good call girl etiquette, of course, but sometimes I just gotta be Kalika, and she is one nasty fucked-up li’l bitch.

(Going to the papers is plausible, as there have been media stories of girls selling virginity and we have yet to have a story about this happening in Scotland so the Edinburgh papers would be interested. Though I’d go to the national ones too. I could remain anonymous, and even if I didn’t, it would look bad for Roland more than it could for me.).

“If I didn’t pay yu the 8k?”

“Yep. Well, not just you, I mean before I met you I figured out that whoever it was that I sold it to, if they didn’t pay me I’d go to the media.”

“And what if I pay you?” he asked. He was amused but I knew inside he was worried a teensy bit.

“Well, then I wouldn’t, of course.”

“You wouldn’t?” he said. This was delicious.

“Of course not.That would be wrong.”

“That would be blackmail,” he said, grinning. He has a special Roland grin.

I have a short attention span, so while this conversation was riveting, I was also a little irritated at the way that Roland continually and persistently wore clothes the entire time. But I reasoned this was only natural, since if he had walked around naked that would be quite a scandal, and he would therefore be impervious to my go-to-the-media/blackmail-after-I-get-paid-8k ‘threats’.

DIRECTOR OF £4m COMPANY STRIPS NAKED IN BUSY STREET

Now that’s a great headline.

We went into a little place to eat. When we were sitting at the table (next to the window) Roland said he liked my jacket; it was a cropped black faux leather jacket that I’d chosen to give a bit of edge to the dress/tights ensemble. It doesn’t keep me warm at all, especially since I wear it open. (I was wearing a bronze-coloured choker and a gold headband too.) If anyone is wondering if I dress sexy for Roland, the answer is no. I just make sure I look good, but then I do that every day anyway; the way I look is important to me. I always try to have a nipped-in waist and slim silhoutte so I like dresses/long tops belted over leggings, tights or jeggings. If I wear shorter tops I like them to be fitted and I like layering. I love corsets, too, and they make great layering options when worn over a shirt, long knit, or t-shirt especially if they are underbust corsets. Actually the only time I can remember having a less ‘feminine’/’elegant’ look was that time I told Leanne about Roland, when I was wearing a long red knitted hoodie over black combats/cargo pants. However both items were quite fitted though, unlike the average combats or hoodie.

Where was I? Oh, yes, we were sitting at the table next to a pane of glass through which a canal and office buildings were visible. Roland had to answer a couple of calls, which was very hot and business-y (is that a word? No) and I just watched him being all Boss Guy and dealing with business stuff like he isn’t sat here with a prostitute. He was telling the guy/girl on the other end that “I’m not here right now, I’m out of town, so I can’t actually see the [piece of technology I haven’t got a clue what it is]”.

I told him that this was the first time in years that I’d sat with my back to a door, because usually I won’t. He said he’d heard of a belief that evil spirits could attack you if you did, and asked who I thought would attack me.

“I dunno, the Russians?” I said (I just got that out of another wonderful WordPress blog, The Vulva Revolver, a fiction about a delusional who thinks he’s a historical aristocrat. In the first post I read, someone knocks at the door and he wonders who it is: The Russians?? As in the James Bond sort of Russians, I presume (i.e. not ordinary citizens but the KGB or something).

Roland says, “Why, what do you have against Russians?”

I explained about Mann Smoothe’s blog/not being xenophobic towards Russians. (Actually if I did hate Russians, wouldn’t that be racism and not Xenophobia, since I’m not white?? Questions, pesky questions!)

I said I knew his friend was Russian and I didn’t mean him. He said that his friend was a slut when he was young and now that he has a daughter, instead of encouraging her to be a slut like he was, he jealously guards her from men. I aked if he’s the same to his son and Roland said no, and I said that’s just the double standar. Roland thought the whole thing was really funny, and he said, “No, he doesn’t…but the mother does!” He thinks that guys know what other guys are like, so guard daughters, while girls know what other girls are like so they guard sons. Interesting.

A slightly incestuous illustration of paternal possessiveness (and other sexist gender-role/parent-role stuff. (Obv Mummy hasn’t got the balls to be a hero.)

He thinks kids are the opposite of their parents and that’s why I’m selling myself in direct contrast to my mother who only ever had one man and is very chaste.

Our food came; I had chicken.

Roland also said I’m a psychopath and a cold-hearted bitch; he finds this very funny.

Roland said that the employee he sent home got sent home to have a think and come back on Monday because he kept refusing to do his tasks and saying he wouldn’t do them. If that’s true, I quite honestly think it’s ridiculous and he should be sacked. If I can obey my insulting, offensive boss’s every instruction in a crappy one-day-a-week, 5-hours-a-day job, then why can’t someone listen to reasonable instruction in a good job? I would’ve fired him if I was a boss.

“Did you want to fire him?” I asked.

“Well, no. I’m sorry to disappoint your ideas of me as being cruel, but I wanted to give him another chance and I don’t enjoy firing people [blah blah blah non-hot waffling].”

“If spanking was legal, would you spank him if he was a woman?”

Roland laughed. “Well…yes, then I think I would, if it was legal to spank employees. But of course it’s not, there’s lots of things you can’t consent to. I think you would like to spank him, or maybe if you were his boss you would put him in Paradise [the British government’s torture machine in a story I wrote. It’s in the fiction section of this blog] wouldn’t you? ‘You’re being sent to Paradise for two weeks!'”

“If I was like an intern at Luxor, and I didn’t do my work well, would you spank me?”

He looked at me with bright eyes and a thoughtful, satisfied Roland(TM) smile. “Yes, you would be spanked,” he nodded, “Oh yes.”

We talked about the cases in America where bosses got jailed for spanking consenting employees for not doing goodwork, and I told him about a guy in England who was only caught when he tried it on a 15 year old girl in a work placement, who told her teacher.

I also learned this: When Roland was a toddler, his dad let him stick his fingers into electric sockets and taught him which one was the earth wire that would kill him. This frightened his mother. (An extreme example of the ‘challenger’ and ‘protector’ parent gender roles which I learned during Higher Psychology at school. I thought it was utter nonsense then, and also now. Gender roles and parental roles are created by society and actually they have lapsed quite significantly in these two or three generations.) Unfortunately his tale of nearly being electrocuted through sticking a part of his body into an electrical outlet did not do anything for me at all, because my mental picture was of course of a baby-Roland (awww, cute!).

Baby Roland almost discovered the basis of Paradise’s technology.

I also saw his passport cos he had it for some reason (and he saw mine which is usually in my bag in case I get ID’d at a bar). Anyway I was right that he’s 46 and not 42 as he claimed, because I could tell from his passport. (I know this because, before the photoshoot, he said he’d seen pics of me on the interwebz and one of my poems when I won a poetry competition. So I decided to stalk him on the interwebz and see how he likes it!)

Roland got another call from work and pretended to be in a lawyer’s firm; as we left he was saying “Yes I’m just at their office right now; I’m just leaving”.

I’m doing work stuff! Honest!!! What do you think I’m doing, skiving off work to see a prostitute?Hahahaha…

Coming up….smut, smut and more smut.

 

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“(Probably) No” means “Yes”

This was the most confusing answer to a question I’d ever recieved in my life. It was an impossible answer. I wondered if Roland meant that he’d only hit the one million mark a couple of hours ago but he’d spent some change since then so now it might be £5 less than a million or whatever.

“How can it be ‘probably not’?”

(Pause, think) “Because I don’t think that everything added up would come to a million…probably not…but it depends, because I’m worth much more than a million.”

This didn’t make any sense. It was making my brain itch. I was thinking, shit, I should’ve waited till later to get him tied up and just torture it out of him, it’d be easier and I’d get a straight answer.

“But it’s either yes or no,” I whined.

“The question is: Does it matter?” he said.

I thought, Of course it does, it’s a landmark goal for most people! A never to be fulfilled dream! Haven’t you ever watched Only Fools and Horses?

I said, truthfully, “Because it’s been my goal to fuck a millionaire and I want to know if I’m fulfilling two goals at once!”

He looked at me and goes, “Oh. Well, probably not.”

“Can’t you just stick your card in a machine and then you would know?”

“Well, how do you know you’re a millionaire?” he asked.

“When you look at your account and it has at least a million.” [Or if, like me, you have several accounts, you add them all together.]

Roland explained that since he has 50% of the shares in Luxor he has over 2m which he can use to buy stuff even though it’s not actually in his account; like me, he explained, I get paid from Luxor. So altogether he’d have about 3m he can actually use although most of it isn’t under his own name. And he can sell the shares for 2m at any time, or dissolve the company and get the 2m. He used to have more money but he put a lot of it into the company. And he can transfer it between the company’s account and his personal account.

“So, does that count?” he asked.

“Yeah. It counts. Because you can use it to buy stuff and you can put it in your account anyway.”

He laughed. “Because that suits your particular fantasy better.”

We had to go back to the car for his phone in case his colleagues called. I said he was naughty for illegally using Luxor’s funds to pay me. He countered that it was not illegal because using the company’s money just had to be “in the course of a business” (I still remembered the wording from Commercial Law as he said it) “and,” he said, “you, my dear, are a business.” And laughed.

 

 

 

 

 

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“Probably not.”

He parks and we talk about stuff and I say, “Have you ever had sex in the backseat?” There doesn’t appear to be enough space, and  I point this out to him. He laughs. I swear, he laughs all the time, just like me. I wonder if the entire world is just all a big game to him, like it is to me. Maybe he thinks video games can’t offer the thrills and heightened emotions that real life can. That adrenalin is a toy. That’s what life is to me. Only kink and the Case could ever summon the adrenalin.

He says, “No, but I’ve done it in the front…because the front seats can do this…” there is a slight hum and the seat basically becomes a slightly raised bed.

“Cooool,” I say as the seat returns to normal.

“We should do it after you take my virginity. Drive somewhere remote and do it.”

This makes him laugh again for some reason. The fact that he has clothes on irritates me. I want to see him naked. He looks good lying down, though. Vulnerable. I think off ripping his clothes off but I think the windscreen isn’t tinted enough for that. And he might not like that. I know that as a hooker you should go with what the punter wants.

(I really want to bite Roland’s cock right now as I am typing this. Crunch. Just bit my thumb instead. Ow. It hurt. Maybe that’s how he felt when I did that? And why I couldn’t bite as hard as I wanted because I knew it would hurt him. Actually, I suppose it would feel worse to him cos of sensitivity.)

Roland’s Blackberry rings and he talks about business stuff into it while the person on the other end is completely unaware that he’s sitting in a car with a prostitute, about to feed her so she’ll have enough energy to be debased later on. Naughty. Roland then moves the car forward while using a handheld phone, which is illegal. Doubly naughty. Roland does illegal things all the time (by which I mean extremely trivial traffic ‘offences’) which is really hot for some reason. (Although when other people do it, it isn’t hot, because they’re students and not professionals like Roland who are supposed to obey the law.)

We get out of the car and walk over a bridge and he tells me his company is being sued over a patent and it’ll take over a million to bring the case to court and all this stuff. Intellectual property law is not my forte. He needs Leanne for this. So this conversation is going waaaaaayyyy over my head. Also, we didn’t learn how much it takes for a company to bring a case to court. I can sort of tell Roland doesn’t like lawyers.

Anyway he keeps talking and it makes me feel sad that he/Luxor will lose a million. We walk on for a bit and eventually I go, “Do you, like, actually have a million?”

He pauses, thinks, then says, “…Probably not.”

 

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Why 50 Shades of Grey is anti-kink, anti-sex and anti-feminist

It seems impossible to get away from 50 Shades right now. I can’t go on Facebook, WordPress, to the supermarket, on the bus or train or sometimes even check my texts without hearing about or seeing the book. After I give the evidence/reasons for the claims I’ve made in the title of this post, I’ll copy/paste this conversation so you can get an idea of how I (and apparently some other people) feel about the trilogy:

Evidence that 50 Shades is all the things I claim it to be:

Anastasia is economically dependent; when she does get a career, Grey then buys out the company she works for, making himself her boss’s boss

Ana is virginal in direct contrast to the very experienced Christian who is such a playa that he has never spent the night or done ‘the girlfriend thing’

Christian’s kinkiness is explained as being a direct result of child abuse including sexual abuse, not just his sexuality. I.e. it is unnatural (he was not born with it) and pathological

Christian has a kink-shaming thing going on where tells his therapist that he thinks something is wrong with him (as the therapist explains to Ana)

Ana has a sex-shaming thing going on where she feels that it is surprising or wrong for a 21 year old to want to have sex.

Ana displays the classic traits of an enforcer (female enforcer of the double standard, see my post on ‘SM and the double standard’) by judging her flatmate Kate for sleeping with Elliott

Both protagonists are codependent and appear more interested in having some kind of little boy or sex slave to take care of than an actual sex partner or boyfriend/girlfriend

Christian is abusive, not a Dom. BIIIIIIG difference, James. BIG difference.

BDSM is linked to emotional damage by the title ’50 shades’ which corresponds to Christian’s assertion that he is “fifty shades of fucked-up” due to childhood abuse

Ana is a complete idiot, barely able to ‘research’ BDSM online without Christian’s guidance or find sex tips although she has a degree. Most kinky people were ‘researching’ BDSM online at age 12 or 13. (I started at 14 because we didn’t get internet access at home until I was 14, though my first attempt was at age 9 or 10 on a school computer).

Ana’s passivity, submissiveness and physical weakness are an antifeminist portrayal of women and, as she is well-educated, young, and not overweight, is completely unrealistic.

Ana is portrayed as having extreme physical weakness, i.e. taking four strokes of the crop is too much for her, sex exhausts her and a hand spanking is injurious to her physically (Christian has to use baby oil to soothe her) and emotionally (sje doesn’t want to repeat the experience).

The above portrayals also stigmatise BDSM as a very dangerous and harmful behaviour when actually this level of pain and exhaustion is very rare. Christian obviously was not paying attention/didn’t care (which is another disturbing aspect of this story).

Ana is not only a virgin but also asexual, having manifested no sexual desire before meeting Christian and exhibiting very little desire even after that. She has never masturnated. Even after being spanked she does not experience the spanking in a sexual way (either positively or negatively).

This asexuality is in direct contradistinction to Christian’s hypersexuality and extreme fetishes (no, I don’t think he is either of those – nor would I use ‘hypersexual’ on anyone who hasn’t been clinically diagnosed with nymphomania) but this is how James is presenting Christian. This contadistinction is just the double standard made more obvious and extreme.

Ana’s submissiveness and low self-esteem are portrayed as meaning that she is a natural submissive; similarly, Christian’s billionaire alpha male status mean that of course he is the dom. This stigmatises BDSM and is actually completely false. Sexual kinks and proclivities have no bearing on reality. Gays aren’t all effeminate, are they? Lesbians aren’t all butch, and cross-dressers only cross-dress sometimes. Transgender people can be gay or straight. ‘Tomboy’ girls and sensitive boys don’t grow up to be gay.(As a child I wore boys’ clothes/shoes and refused to wear skirts, dresses or play with Barbie dolls. A family ‘friend’ told my mother I was “a homosexual”.Now I love style and am so feminine that I’m prostituting myself; I love sex and men.)There aren’t any rules. If anything, powerful individuals are more likely to be subs because it’s relaxing for them.

Ana expresses disappointment that she was not raped while asleep by Christian, and questions her attractiveness because of this.

Ana is one-dimensional, superficial, whiny, has low-self esteem, lets herself be abused, has no confidence, possesses a very conservative view of sex, is sexually repressed, doesn’t know how to use the internet, and is stupid. (All unrealistic traits in a young educated American woman).

Female drinking and partying is presented as dangerous, with Ana being sick and having to be rescued by Christian and taken to a hotel

Christian exhibits the traits of a stalker and is overprotective; he buys her a new car because her old one is potentially dangerous (how? Are all poor peoples’ cars dangerous?) and takes her to a hotel when she is drunk instead of just taking her home. Also, he didn’t have to trace her call; she was just feeling sick from drinking too much, hasn’t that happened to nearly every 21 year old student? However, it is portrayed as deviant.

Christian’s character-specific skills are evident at all times (dominance, confidence, clear goals, persuasiveness, taking the initiative both in the bedroom and out of it, etc). As is the money that his skills got him. However, despite having a degree  in English Literature, a part-time job, a possible insight into journalism through her friend Kate’s involvement with the student paper, as well as interviewing Christian, Ana’s skills and experience are never evident. She doesn’t even have any hobbies apart from reading classics (i.e. a hobby synonymous with her studies) or any goals, career plans or interests. Her CV must be pretty short.

Not only is Ana asexual, she has no actual goals or wishes for her relationship with Christian. She just does whatever he says

She is stupid enough to believe that a contract binding her to be a BDSM sex slave would be legally binding in the United States of America in 2011/2012

There is no sex for about half the book. This is not porn. It is not even erotica. If I was buying erotica (which I did, but it was far too mild so I didn’t like it much) I would not expect to read over 200 pages to get to the first sex scene. I’ll bet most Romance genre novels are more erotic than 50 Shades; after all, no self-respecting woman in 2012 is going to read romance novels that end ‘so we finally held hands AND kissed, AT THE SAME TIME! Phwooarr!!!! And rode off into the sunset.The End.’

There is no explanation given for Ana’s sex-repression or willingness to be raped while unconscious/asleep. It’s presented as the right way to think. Given that teens are reading it (it’s socially-acceptable porn, they can read it in school, of course they’re reading it) this is actually very harmful to society.

The message of these two things is that it is acceptable for men (even educated business professionals) to be so bestialy hypersexual that they cannot wait till the morning or even 1 second to wake up a woman and ask if she would like to have sex, but instead have to rape her while she is asleep, like a dog. However, it is totally unacceptable for a woman to want to have consensual protected sex with a hot billionaire in a potentially-committed relationship at above the average age of losing virginity.

Rape is portrayed as totally acceptable and to be expected if you are a female who gets drunk with her friends. (You’d deserve it, because girls shouldn’t drink. That was reckless and wild. Only boys get drunk.)

The lowest, most cowardly form of rape (raping the victim while they are drunkenly asleep so they’ll never know and you won’t be jailed; if they get pregnant they’ll never figure out how it happened or maybe not find out in time to get an abortion) is totally acceptable.

Ana’s reaction to suspecting that she has been raped (which in itself is paranoia) and subsequent reaction to not being raped is very stigmatising of rape victims and survivors. It suggests that they may have wanted it or not cared very much that they were raped.

Linking being a Dom and being a potential rapist is a misrepresentation of kinky individuals

The ridiculously large gap between the protagonists’ incomes/wealth is hardly conducive to feminism (or realistic)

The unswitchability and extremeness of the maledom and femsub roles is antifeminist; they could have been a malesub and domme which would be statistically more probable for a billionaire. Or one or both could be a switch.

Christian uses more pressure on Ana to get her to sign the contract than the average person would be comfortable with

Contracts aren’t often used by the BDSM community and contracts lasting as long as three months are rare. James has chosen the most ‘extreme’ example of BDSM (the Master/slave relationship) as opposed to much more common forms of BDSM like DD, being switches, doing it for fun, spanking as foreplay, or just doing it for fun sometimes to spice up a vanilla sex life (the most common form). And of course every nuance in between. (Should that be ‘every shade in between’? Ha, ha ha [despairing laugh]). By choosing this extreme form, James has rendered BDSM less acceptable to vanilla people and more scary, as they will assume that everyone who likes spanking is in a Christian/Ana relationship. Woop de doo.

Now, you can’t get any more anti-sex, anti-feminist and anti-kink than 50 Shades.

Excerpt from online conversation:

Me: 50 Shades of Grey is a conservative patriarchal fantasy. It may have been written as the poster child of sexual freedom. It may be being read as the promise of liberation. But it isn’t. It is antifeminist, slut-shaming, and stigmatises kinky people. The fact that lots of women ended up so sheltered that it took this badly-written travesty to make us explore our sexuality just shows how repressive and sex-negative our society really is.

David:There’s nothing sexually free about it. The main character feels guilty for having sex, and for wanting sex, and that’s presented as a good thing; the way to be. Also, I hate the way they try to justify the main male character enjoying BDSM- it’s the result of severe childhood abuse, as opposed  just liking it. Urgh the trilogy is disgusting.

Me:omfg – TOTALLY. And she judges her flatmate too for sleeping with Elliot. The whole juxtaposition of virginal, vanilla Ana (who, unbelievably, seems practically to have never heard of BDSM) with Christian who’s such a slut that he’s never stayed the night with a girl, is very radically-conservative. (i say ‘slut’ ironically; i don’t believe in the concept of ‘slut’ – its just a patriarchal device to control women). Anyways, female drinking/partying is also degraded in the book, as is female sexual agency. Ana is economically dependent. Obv E L James has never tried BDSM, the descriptions are very unrealistic and OTT. And yeah, its verystigmatising, like all BDSM-ers were abused. Lots of abused ppl are into vanilla, maybe NOT liking BDSM is a result of abuse, James? And when she wakes up in the hotel room and is all, ‘why didn’t Christian rape me while I slept? I mustn’t be pretty enough for him’ is very disturbing.

Susan: Or maybe it’s just a book? That doesn’t have to have hidden antifeminist agendas? Maybe just a mediocre but slightly entertaining read? Just saying.

Me: Yeah I hear u, and I’m not saying it has a deliberate antifeminist ‘agenda’ – if anything, I think it was written to be sexy. What I’m annoyed about is that absolutely everyone thinks the book is feminist and helping to give us sexual freedom but it’s not. I can’t get away from hearing about how wonderful and freeing it is, whether its on Facebook or the media or just friends.And women being like ‘oh I never dared to try spanking until I read this book and found out I wasn’t a deviant’ and ‘this book gave me the courage to finally explore my sexuality and tell my hubby what turns me on at age 48’ is sad.

David: @Susan:- Even if it isn’t deliberate, it’s still ingrained. Also if you look up the author, especially taking a read of her Twitter, you’ll see she’s very set with gender roles and Man is Provider, Woman is Nurturer. Which isn’t exactly someone who makes for a great representative of sexual freedom. Also, remember it started life off as Twilight fanfiction. The only difference is the names were changed for publication. Twilight is a metaphor for no sex before marriage, being a subm issive wife before anything else (like being independent, going to college etc) and not having an abortion, no matter how much danger you put yourself in. All written by a devout Mormon.

Emma: A Brigham Young University graduate friend of mine described ‘Twilight’ as ‘Mormon porn’. There’s something in that, I suspect 🙂

Me: Isn’t it interesting how all the teen-aimed billion-pound movie/book franchises of the last decade have dealt with abstinence themes? Even Harry Potter hints at minimal sexual contact in the teen/young adult years and the characters end up married to their teenage boyfriends/girlfriends – Ron marries Hermione and Harry marries Ginny. And 50 Shades has a ‘wait until hot rich traditional gender-role guy’ as its moral. The franhises that were not abstinence themed (I Am number Four, The Girl with the Dragon Tattoo, The Hunger Games, LOTR etc) were either not aimed specifically at teens or aimed at teen boys. Whereas Twilight and 50 shades are aimed at women, and Harry Potter was aimed at teens of both genders.Vampires, witches and kinky sex are being tamed down and re-packaged in an abstinence-themed context for teenage girls and young women (judging by the characters’ ages, James probably intended to appeal to young women; it is the media who subsequently dubbed it ‘mommy porn’).

Emma: The Hunger Games is a genuine kids’ book, written by a classicist. Pretty much all of it is lifted from ancient Rome, one writer in particular. It’s well done, but the very different morality had to be dealt with carefully, and Collins does that. She can also write exceptionally well (as can Rowling). The trilogy is well worth a read. I don’t plan to read this 50 Shades book, not because I disapprove (I really don’t care what other people read; I’d rather they read than burn down their local Poundland or whatever), but because if I wish to read smut, I have my trusty classics major in hand 🙂

Calling all parents, teachers, social workers and psychologists: Where swere you when the female children under your care were going through puberty and adolescence? How could you let us get so repressed that 50 Shades is our sexual awakening?
 

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What I learned last Thursday

1. Men can control whether or not they get an erection, unlike women

2. Men (at least that one) do not get turned on by having a knife jabbed into their cock or by needles or the thought of drills being used on them (pity, that) but hot forks are okay

3. I like sucking dick

4. Millionaires are stupid. Force them to eat cream.

5. I can be tricked into thinking that Roland has the key to my handcuffs when actually they will spring open at the touch of a button and I could’ve got out of them at any time

6. It is rare to enjoy knife play (I thought Roland wouldn’t be surprised about the knife since he’s poly and has probably been banged by more cunts than he can shake his thing at, but he was surprised, which means that most other women he has encountered were not into knife play). So it must be more rare than spanking.

7. Cum and urine come out of the same hole, not two separate ones, which makes absolutely no sense since they are two completely different tubes. (I used to think they came out of the same hole but then I reasoned it must be two different ones.) But it isn’t. That totally blows my mind. I think it’s unhygienic. We need to redesign men.

8. The answer to my experiment ‘What happens if you push a penis up and then drop a small needle down the hole’ is that Roland will not let me conduct  the experiment.

9. BMW’s patented ‘easy-shag’ reclining seat design really works.

10.When a man is actually interested in why and how you got into feminism, and suddenly asks you about it so that you have a brilliant opportunity to actually explain this misunderstood and stereotyped position to them, and raise awareness of issues that mean a lot to you, you will feel stupid trying to explain it while half naked and bent over in a studio while he takes pervy erotic photos of you. You will especially feel stupid trying to explain objectification, rape culture and the feminisation of poverty and have to tell him you’ll tell him later.

 

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Rolanding

I came down the steps to Buccleuch Place and Roland’s black BMW convertible was right there. A man who appeared to be him was pacing around next to it and then I did recognise him, though he looked less ugly from this distance. His face (but not hands or neck) was reddish but then it will go back to normal and I don’t know what the scientific explanation is for this. Maybe only Roland can do that, or perhaps it is a rare condition? Or is he doing it deliberately? I’ve noticed he tends to do that when he’s excited which would suggest it is involuntary. Anyway, I came down the steps. I was wearing a cream and navy short dress with a tie under the bust and black tights with black and gold dolly shoes. I had on a gold-coloured choker, a blue and gold bangle and was carrying a small brown and tan handbag and a large leopard-face print bag.

He said he was sorry to have kept me waiting and I said that I’d used the time constructively to buy whipped cream and update my blog. He looked less tall this time but also less fat.He had on a black t-shirt which I like; I like men to wear tight black shirts that show off their muscles. I shoved my bags in the back and got into the car, and he got in and his face was normal colour now which is just really weird, but it doesn’t bother me now, and actually I’ve been told that when I’m unhappy I’m darker and when I’m happy I’m pale, so maybe I can colour-change too. Roland said that anytime he tried to see me lots of things would come up with his company Luxor, but he didn’t want to cancel this time because of my sexual frustration and cos he’d cancelled at the last minute last time. He was grinning at me and I was telling him about the strawberry and cream sauce I got from Ann Summers and he drove out of Buccleuch Place and on into Clerk Street and then forward, heading for Leith.

I said “I think it’s really hot that you fired someone.” And that he’d lost weight (I said it in a positive way) and he said he’d also stopped smoking. (So that explains the yellow teeth, then. I’d thought it was excessive coffee drinking or deficient genes. Though he didn’t need to stop smoking, just get cosmetic dentistry.)

His teeth didn’t bother this time, even though they’re crowded and uneven; maybe I was getting used to them. Roland pointed to a road on the right going slightly uphill. “There’s a brothel there,” he said (he’d mentioned doing a ‘virgin in the whorehouse’ shoot there before we made the deal, and had thought about doing the film/consummation there after we did. It’s a massage parlour).

He said he thought we should consummate it there. Sounded good to me.

We ended up talking about Baudelaire, and Roland recited nearly all of ‘Allegory’ which is quite cool cos I haven’t met anyone else who can accidentally memorise poems except me.

Roland seemed surprised at the way I think about my father (purely in financial terms) and my expression of noninterest in contacting him as no financial gain could be derived from it. His surprise confused me, as I had explained to him what my father is like, and anyone with a father like mine would not think highly of their father. Although, as I told Roland, it pleases me to know he was a political revolutionary who helped overthrow his government like the Arab Spring people and I get my writing skills from him (he’s a professor of English literature). It’s great that I have the DNA of a political revolutionary.

“Did you actually say to him, ‘send me £5,000?” he asked.

“No. I just said I didn’t have enough money to live in accomodation this year so I had to live with my mum. Because at the time, I didn’t know I could get student overdrafts, I just thought an overdraft meant an unplanned overdraft. So I stayed at home instead of getting a flat in Edinburgh [and therefore access to all the hot intelligent boys I could fuck].”

Anyway it wasn’t all about lack of financial incentives, it was about lack of wanting to contact him. I do not waste my time on pointless activities or contact those I despise. It all seemed to surprise Roland for some reason. Maybe Roland knows that under English law my father can disinherit me and he thinks I was nearsighted and stupid for annoying him and thus potentially depriving myself of inheritance when he dies? But I don’t think that was the reason. I don’t understand Ro sometimes. He understands me more than I understand him. But he is a little wary of me, I think. He believes I am capable of anything. That is, of course, entirely true.

Roland has crinkly blue eyes. They are droopy because he’s old, but he’s not old enough to be called a coffin-dodger yet. Still old enough to be practically mummified, though. Actually, that gives me an idea: Should I put him in the next Kemet story as a character who is a friend of Queen Tut? His hair really bothers me, though he has more hair than Prince William. I can’t look at his forehead without wanting to puke, but one day I will touch his hair close to the bit where it is moulting off. I’m not touching the no-hair bit where the pink skin is there instead of hair. Yuck. But maybe he’s okay with it, because he hasn’t had a hair transplant like I was hoping for so it’d be easier for me if he didn’t look so gross. The weird thing is, his hair didn’t bother me that much last time as it does today. I like his voice, though, and the way he looks at me. And, in general, he looked more attractive this time than last time. I felt really happy and relaxed.

Roland stopped suddenly as some people crossed the road and I said “imagine if you ran them over, that would be pretty hot.”

“You have a different sense of humour,” Roland observed. “You joke about suicide, you think me firing employees is hot…”

“Yeah, but I wouldn’t find it funny if it really happened,” I clarified (it’s true. It’s why I can’t watch the news, I can only read it.) “Like, if you really did run them over I wouldn’t find it hot. I’m not into necrophilia. We wouldn’t end up fucking in their bloodied intestines.” I paused to let that image sink in. I like the look on Ro’s face when I say certain things. I liked the pause over the phone a few weeks ago when I said, “imagine if I told someone [about our deal] and a journalist got hold of [our story] that would be bad for you.” Deee-lish. But Google “mental torture” and all that comes up is emotional abuse. Come on, guys, this has to be at least as hot as being stamped on by a pair of sweaty feet?? Or eating shit?

 

 

 

 

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Summary of what happened

We went to a cafe and Roland looked less disgusting and more attractive this time, also less fat.

Roland said I’m a psychopath and a very happy person.

I found out he is a millionaire and he gave me a statement of one of his accounts showing 1.6 million which I’ll upload in redacted form here (in another post) and to Facebook.

We did another photoshoot in his studio involving oral (me recieving), a vibrator and the whipped cream I bought from the student shop while waiting for him to turn up;

At 7pm we went to his house where he spanked me for a long time with different implements (hand, wooden spoon, hairbrush, flogger, paddle, cane) and forced me to give him a blowjob; I tried to run away but he caught me so I had no choice but to use the strawberry and cream flavoured sauce I’d got in case of this worst case scenario. So at least it tasted good.

I tried to use the knife and needles I’d brought but he didn’t trust me to pierce his cock; instead, he did it, trying to draw blood that I could suck (as per my intentions). This was unsuccessful. So I used a firelighter to heat up a fork instead, which was a bit too sucessful.

He caned me and then let me cane him, but only too strokes because he said I did it “very hard” though I would call it mild. But I am more of a domme than a sub.

What happened next? How did he end up ‘abducting’ me to Newcastle at 5:45am the next morning? What other stuff happened and how did we feel about it, what did we say etc? And how did he end up paying me and dropping me off in the small area/town that I live, where I could potentially be seen with him and getting out of his car when I was supposed to be somewhere else? WHAT MADNESS WAS THIS?!!I’d LOVE LOVE LOVE to write it now but I’m tired, and I still hurt from yesterday thanks to him. I can’t even guarantee that the ‘highlights’ I just gave you were the most dramatic, surprising or important bits; so many weird dramatic things happened, like me holding a knife to his neck, or the handcuffs wrestling where I squirted him in the face with the cream and in his mouth so he had to eat it…heh. And learning what would’ve happened if I’d told him my tuition fees were 12k, our plans for taking my virginity, his Chastity theory about me, calling Roland by his fake name for three hours as two models got naked, and a load of other stuff, like lying to our families (and others) about where we were, as well as the other sexual stuff we did. I discovered a lot about myself. I think Roland did, too.

 

 

 

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Waiting…

I’m in the Main Library, waiting for Roland, who is going to pull up round the corner near the steps on Buccleuch Place. He’s texted me while I was on the bus that he’ll be late cos of something at work. I just replied to Leanne’s text but it looks like it didn’t send so I’ll resend it after I type this.

He just called me a second ago, after I wrote that sentence, but I won’t type what time he’ll arrive now because I’m utterly paranoid that, if I do, someone in Edinburgh who reads this will arrive in Buccleuch Place first to intercept us. (See, this is why I don’t watch police dramas or spy movies – I’m quite paranoid enough as it is.) Now, all you kids out there who are reading this disgusting x-rated blog without proper parental approval: WORK HARD, GO TO UNIVERSITY AND BE SUCCESSFUL. Because then you might end up being a) the boss of a company and b) well-off so that c) you can leave work whenever you want to pay someone less than half your age to have sex with you.

Dear God, what has happened to good old-fashioned values? I bet people like Lloyd George, Thomas Jefferson and Marilyn Monroe weren’t skiving off work to sleep with people…oh, wait…

What I’m afraid of (as I texted Leanne but it didn’t send) is that Roland (if he had his shirt off, which I haven’t yet seen) will look like a blancmange…wobble-wobble. And then I might vomit. I don’t like wine (love vodka) but maybe I’ll have some to prevent throwing up later on. It might be better if I’m out of it a little bit laer on. I just worry he has moobs (man-boobs) so yeah if I have something to drink I’ll do better. But he’s not actually fat or probably even overweight so maybe he has a stunning body and I’m worrying over nothing. At least he is tall, and has broad shoulders and a nice voice. Nice eyes, too. I like the way he looks at me. I’d better go now, dear readers.

I’ve come back into the library cos he’ll be another 20 mins.. I was half-suspecting he is doing this deliberately to get me more sexually frustrated so it’ll be easier for me and better for him, but then he told me someone got fired!! But he didn’t “directly” fire this person, they’ll “see how it goes”. Obv I sympathise this person and their children if they have any, and I hope everything goes well for them. But Roland actually firing someone is really sexy and I think it makes him more attractive. So no more worries about throwing up now! Yay! I wonder what he’s telling his colleagues about why he’s leaving? “Just off to fuck a hooker” doesn’t sound very professional. Maybe “just off to see my girlfriend who’s young enough to be my daughter and won’t do it unless I pay her” would sound better? Somehow, ‘girlfriend’ always legitimizes things, it sounds better than ‘FWB’ or ‘some woman’. Anyway, toodles.

 

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Ad for porn actors on Gumtree site!

I like modelling and since I have a little experience, I answered an ad from Zada modelling on Gumtree.co.uk, a UK site where you can find jobs, flats, buy stuff…it’s our Ebay. I submitted one of the photos Roland took of me (a fully clothed one). When they got back to me, they said that they were seeking models for a new porn site and were only offering topless modelling, nude modelling and making porn films!!

What they said was: Thank you for your recent response to the advertisement for models. I received your attached photo and think you have some great potential. The shoots that are available are for an exciting new erotica website, set to launch very shortly. The shoots range from topless and/or nude photos through to explicit adult movies with the pay rising accordingly. I realise you may have been looking for strictly fashion modelling, and if this is the case, I do apologise. If however, a shoot from the above levels interests you, please email […] directly and we can progress you to the next stage of the application process.

I replied: [excerpt] I was just wondering how much the pay is for the different types of modelling and adult movies? [obviously, I’d only do the latter after Roland deflowers me]

Zada Modelling: Dear Kalika,
Thanks for the link to your portfolio. […] If you were selected to do a shoot with us the pay would range from £25 – £35 per hour for photo only shoots, and £80-120 per hour for shoots including adult movies. The exact amount we pay depends on if the model has prior modelling experience and also the content of the shoot. For example, adult movies involving anal sex usually pay a bit more than ones that do not. Have you experience of doing adult movies before?

Me: I do not yet have experience of  doing adult movies, but I’m in the process of selling my virginity to a guy I met and this will include a film-length adult movie, though the movie will have more plot than the average adult movie. (I’m also blogging about it). How many hours would the modelling shoots and adult movie shoots take? [because a 20-hour shoot would mean around £2,000 which is okay by me if I don’t have to go all the way]. I think I’d prefer to do modelling, but I’m open to doing adult movies, it depends – I’m not sure. [ie. £5,000 is the lowest I’d be prepared to go all the way for. £10,000 would’ve done it for sure. I mean, THOUSANDS of people would see it, for YEARS, that’s way ‘worse’ than prostitution!]

Zada: That’s an interesting way to lose your virginity! How much is the guy paying you? The shoots usually just take 1 hour. If your first shoot is successful there may be a chance of us offering you more work or referring you to other producers. So you say you are a virgin; have you done oral sex before?

Me: Yeah, I decided it was about time, and I’ve always had a thing for  prostitution, so…[shrugs]. And £8,000 in installments (1k deposit so  far). I asked for installments in case I changed my mind (he’s nice and we have things in common but I don’t find him attractive at all).  If the shoots take an hour, then I think I’d prefer doing topless  shoots for the moment (that’s not to say I wouldn’t do nude shots if I change my mind). I don’t think I’d be confident doing an adult movie  for £80 or £120, unless I was just being spanked or something not that  “involved”. And no, not yet. I have used my hand though and been spanked but that’s pretty much it.

Zada: Wow, that’s a lot of money. I can understand you being shy about doing an adult movie as it’s all new to you. However, we’d be keen to offer you a shoot involving posing for photos nude, then giving a blowjob. I realise we aren’t offering nearly as much as the man that wants to take your virginity, but, as I said before, if the shoot is a success we can try and get you work with other producers.
Let me know what you think.

I haven’t replied. I think that a company paying £80 to prostitute yourself, be filmed prostituting yourself and have the film on the internet to be wanked over forevermore is immoral. It’s exploitation. The men and women who take up the offer will probably be either students or on the dole. And even for students £80 isn’t even a week’s rent (in Edinburgh, where weekly rent is £90-£130) and is maybe one and a half weeks’ rent in Stirling. I think people wouldn’t watch porn that much if they knew. If you’re a student in Edinburgh or Glasgow, London, etc  watching porn, you could very well be watching your fellow students being exploited. And, yeah, you could get more work being a porn star but I doubt if the other companies are going to pay you much more than Zada, as Zada will probably only be able to refer you to similar-status porn companies. Yes, no doubt some porn actors earn a lot of money, but it’s unlikely Zada could refer you to them; you’d need a lot of experience selling yourself for peanuts first. I don’t think that doing this would be good for your mental or emotional health. It might be better to do it for free, because if you do it for free it means you want to do it and you’re doing it for the experience, for yourself. This might have a better mental health consequence than doing it for £80, which you’d probably spend on rent/bills or maybe a few drinks, a video game and a night out clubbing.

 

 

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