Tag Archive for: intimacy

“Oh Gush!!” – A Story About Reconnecting to Sensation

In my recent blog post about Circumcision I shared the painful (and not very often acknowledged) truth that many circumcised men have difficulty feeling sensation in their genitals. 

 

My assertion was made, partly from my observations as a British whore working with mainly intact men but also a number of circumcised men, and also from an illuminating Zoom meeting I once had with a victim of circumcision.

 

He chose to break what I call circumcision omerta. I think because he wanted his pain to be witnessed, he wanted his broken humanity to be seen and understood by a group of deeply empathetic women.

 

We were a group of about 6 witnesses who gathered to hear the personal account of this one man’s experience of sex with a circumcised penis. It was a sad tale. He recounted how he had always struggled to connect with any sensation at all in his genitals. How sex (with himself and others) felt numb, and disassociated. How he had dived into tantra to try to connect with sensation but nothing seemed to help.

 

Then he shared a unique and fascinating insight into his shut down and disconnect. One night, whilst on holiday in Ibiza, he had taken “too many pills” and during the resulting trip he had had the gruesome experience of re-living the pain of his circumcision.

 

He told us how re-living that excruciating pain had made him understand why he felt fearful about connecting to sensation in his genitals. Dr Kelllog was was right, circumcision is such an excruciatingly painful experience that the baby/boy/man makes the choice to never feel anything in this area ever again. Shutting down all sensation to avoid ever feeling that pain ever again. 

 

It was a shocking and terribly sad story. Especially when he shared all that he had done to try to regain sensation in his genitals so that he could experience sexual intimacy in the same way as his fortunate intact brothers. He had spent his adult years yearning to feel more so that he could connect on a deeper level with his sexual partners and now with his wife.

 

Having heard of the immense emotional and spiritual pain he had suffered and of his longstanding commitment to his own healing, I asked, “If you have baby boys, will you have them circumcised?”

 

His reply still shocks me. 

“I do have a baby boy and after much discussion, my wife and I decided that he would be circumcised because it is what our people do. It is what makes us as powerful as we are. It stops us wasting our time in pleasure and makes us superior humans.” 

 

Fuck me. Apologies for swearing, but seriously, FUCK ME!! 

 

A man who had spent an hour sharing his own pain and sadness inflicted ALL OF THAT on his own baby??!! It’s an awful thing to do when you are ignorant of the consequences, but when you have lived experience of them? It truly beggars belief.

 

Further, the notion that being separated from your sexuality makes you more powerful? 

 

The notion that an individual becomes superior when he/she is denied access to the sensation that is their birth right has to be the most horrific myth around human sexuality that I have come across. 

 

My horror at his response to my question aside, the purpose of the meeting was for us to gain a greater understanding of how circumcision affects male sexuality. It had been incredibly useful for me to have such a candid first-hand account from a victim which happened to match my observations as a whore. 

 

As I had observed, by now, countless times in my professional practice, circumcision disconnects the victim from sensation in his genitals and even makes him fear feeling sensation in his own body. 

 

Sometimes this shows up in the most incredible and well disguised ways. Take my client P who travels down from the North of England to see me 2-3 times a year. A bit older than me, he had never fingered a woman before he decided to invest in sessions with me. 

 

When I first opened the door to P I saw him, standing on my doorstep with a heavy back pack and a full black bin bag. Unusual I thought. I invited him in and he asked if he could use the bathroom. I pointed down the hallway and off he trotted, bin bag in hand. I waited on my bed. And I waited. And I waited. The candlelight and the music were inviting me to lie down and close my eyes for a bit, but I kept them open and stayed seated, sexily prim, on the edge of the bed.

 

I heard footsteps in the corridor, stood up, straightened my dress, fluffed my hair and put on my most dazzling smile. This man had travelled across the country for a Kama session, I was about to give him an experience he would never forget!

 

In walked P wearing a short skirt, stockings, a lacey teddy, high heels (not as high as mine I noted) and a blonde wig.  I noticed for the first time that his finger nails were painted red. I fixed the smile on my face and said, “You look beautiful.” We kissed. The plastic hairs from the wig kept falling across his face and getting into our mouths, it was a wig designed for looking good in, not for kissing in.

 

So began possibly the strangest session of my life. I am a tantric practitioner. My approach to sex is sensual touch. Many of my sessions are highly erotic, others are steamily sexual, but they are all sensual. I guide my clients into sensation and deep, deep connection with their sensual, physical bodies. 

 

I have no experience, expertise or really any interest in sex that is not sensual. 

 

In my first (and subsequent) sessions with P he found endless ways to avoid being led into sensation. Sessions were whirlwinds of outfit changes and quick fire scenarios using toy after toy from his back pack: 

 

  • The one when I tied him into a cock cage underneath the lacey teddy. 

 

  • The one when we took it in turns to be restrained to a chair with excitingly heavy metal cuffs, blindfolded, wearing a ball gag. 

 

  • The one in which I wore a strap-on and fucked him with a large dildo followed by a larger one. 

 

  • The one when he fucked me with a mouth-dick dildo. 

 

All of which thrilled me and turned me on immensely as a route into pleasure and sensation. But all of which were ended almost before they began in the frenzied need to do them all.

 

Despite all the toys and all the variety I have never found sex to be so boring and unrewarding. I understood that it was very validating and exciting for him to share his toys and outfits with me. It just did nothing for me at all. And the 3 hours that we had agreed to (on account of him travelling such a long way to get to me) dragged on interminably.

 

I hated how unresponsive and grumpy my body was – the poor man had put in so much effort to entertain and please. But I couldn’t make my body be pleased with sex that was so disconnected and empty. Above all I felt sad.

 

P wanted connection. He craved intimacy. His desire to be seen and enjoyed was a part of this. He was doing sex the best way he knew how. But his teacher had been porn, not other women, so his learned methods didn’t work with a real life woman. Proving, yet again, that porn is a lousy way to learn how to do sex.

 

What looked great on film, flopped in real life. This whore is not aroused by lots of doing. I get turned on by connecting with a human being – to feeling sensation in my own body and through that the energy and sensation in another person’s body. But every time we got close to feeling sensation in our own and each other’s bodies the moment would be abruptly brought to a halt and we would move onto the next thing.

 

It was like some mad Charlie Chaplin era comedy in which a crazed band leader stops the band playing as soon as they have reached harmony to re-arrange the seating of the audience. 

 

And it made no sense to me. People who are comfortable with sensation are delighted to feel another person’s turn on and then stay in that space, building the turn on into an explosive crescendo. You may then move on to something else, but you don’t interrupt the flow once you are in it!

 

With P I felt there were two things at play. First, his lack of experience and contact with real women meant P’s sex life had been limited to, and informed by, porn. 

 

Secondly and even sadder, P is circumcised. Thus he may be substituting the resulting lack of feeling with lots and lots of visually exciting doing.  

 

It is even possible that he, like the man on the Zoom call, feared feeling any sensation in his genitals explaining why he consistently interpreted any flow. 

 

Whenever he got dangerously close to feeling something he would stop what we were doing, break the connection and force us to start over from cold, over and over and over again. 

 

It was exhausting. Female sexual energy does flick on/off like a man’s. We are like a pot of water, keep us simmering then turn up the temperature a bit and we will boil as fiercely as you. But drop the pot and refill with cold water and it takes A LOT of energy to get us to boiling again. Hence why I was so drained at the end of every session with him even though I had done very little. 

 

Plus, of course, there is nothing more tiring than boredom.

 

I was very aware that P had not had many (if any) sexual partners, he was making the most enormous effort to come down to see me and as a whore I owed him my time, energy and skills to guide back to the sexual pleasure and connection that is his birthright. 

 

I wanted to gift him the experience of being seen, being enjoyed and having someone share his enthusiasms with him. I wanted him to feel safe to self express and to be able to trust me.

 

The problem was that I am also a woman. And as a woman I reached a point where I could not bear another 3 hours of this kind of frantic, disconnected, pleasure avoidant, performative sex. I found it boring and incredibly draining. 

 

Sex should make you feel amazing. When it doesn’t you have to put a stop to it. That’s a fundamental rule for me and a promise the whore makes to the woman.

 

Eventually, at the end of one of these sessions, the whore looked on aghast as the woman snapped at P for doing something wrong. I can’t remember what it was, but I had reached the point at which I could smile and pretend no longer. It saddened me that I couldn’t play along with it any more, but I had reached the point that I couldn’t and I really didn’t want to.

 

I did feel really bad for him. I knew that I had become a safe place for him, we had built up a fair amount of trust. I knew he felt seen and unjudged by me. I knew I had been a good whore for him, the problem was the woman just couldn’t hack any more of it.

 

My solution was to email him and suggest that we split the long 3 hour session into 2 shorter 90 minute sessions – one session in his hotel room the evening before a follow up session in my home. He replied “Yes please, that sounds amazing.” 

 

I quietly decided that his porn fantasy sex would be restricted to the session in “his” space – the hotel room and that the follow up session in my home would be my kind of sex – a sensual massage connecting him to sensation in his body. 

 

I don’t ordinarily agree to outcalls and when I do, I charge a lot more for them because I do not like driving to a hotel for an intimate experience. Hotel rooms are bland, poorly lit, often have ill considered art on the walls, and always an ugly television to drain the room of any sacred energy. The energy of the space is always chaotic and not often happy.

 

So I prepared myself for my hotel visit with a bit of reluctance. Driving to meet a client does not make my nipples tingle like walking down the stairs does! And I was pretty sure I was going to have to smile my way through another boring dressing up show. 

 

It’s only 90 minutes, I kept reassuring myself. 

 

He was very chivalrous and met me in the car park to show me up to his room – a family room with a kingsize bed for sex and a single bed for sleeping in afterwards (how very convenient and well organised I thought).

 

He turned off the television (thank god) and I moved in to kiss him. He was still in his civvies. I expected him to pull away and say, “I’ll be back in a minute.” But he didn’t, he kissed me back. Softly, and fully on the mouth. A sexy kiss. My cunt started to twitch.

 

Tentatively I started to undress him. I don’t think I had ever had the pleasure of removing a buttoned up shirt from him before. I noticed he was shaking all over as I slowly undid the buttons and slid it off his back. I removed the low cut red top I had chosen to wear as sexy, but not ‘obviously hooker’ sexy. He fumbled with my bra strap as I undid his trousers and pushed down his boxers releasing his erection which bounced against my inner thigh as he started fondling my nipples. 

 

It was a very sexy start to our session. No wig hairs interrupting our kisses, no complicated lace outfits between our bodies, just a man and a woman removing each other’s clothes in a non-descript hotel room in the middle of nowhere. 

 

Unclothed apart from my stockings and shoes, “So sexy,” he remarked, we made our way to the bed, me sitting astride him as he played with my breasts, tweaked my nipples and enjoyed the feeling of me rubbing my vulva on his cock. It wasn’t long before he reached for a towel to protect the bed so that I could come, squirting all over him.

 

“Oh gush!” he exclaimed.

 

We laughed at his clever play on words, I told him they would be used on my website and we kissed, open mouths, greedy for each other. 

 

We kissed a lot, you’ll know that I like kissing, and that I think it is essential for creating intimacy. The oxytocin that kissing releases signals to the body that it is safe to connect, safe to feel, safe to have a deep inner experience within your own body and to share this with another person. Kissing moves people from fear into absence of fear. Kissing moves people into intimacy.

 

P and I shared an incredibly intimate time in that drab hotel room. We kissed, our bodies intertwined, he spent time fingering me whilst biting on my nipples giving me wave after wave of orgasm. I reached for a condom and we fucked, me riding him as he tweaked my nipples making me come more, soaking through the carefully placed towel underneath us. 

 

Reaching into my handbag I brought out the heavy cuffs I had grown used to using with him in the long, tiresome sessions which were all about doing to avoid feeling and being. I looked at the chair and considered cuffing him to it, but then what? I thought, I hadn’t brought my feathers and floggers, pin wheels and canes with me. 

 

Instead I commanded him to go down on all fours on the bed. I cuffed his wrists and ankles and strapped the ball gag tightly into his mouth. We would play with his toys, but we would do it my way – we would use them as a path into sex not a diversion out of sex. From my bag I pulled out my strap on, stepped into it, put on a condom, applied some lube and placed it at the entrance to his arse.

 

He pushed back onto me and we fucked, hard, for a while. I found the heavy cuffs on his ankles and wrists and the ball gag in his mouth thrilling. After a while he rolled over onto his back, ankles in the air to experience me fucking him from a different angle. Navigating my way under the chain to fuck him hard face to face I removed the ball gag so that we could kiss as we fucked. It was surprisingly intimate given the heavy restraints and the feeling of the chain against my back 

 

The session flowed. He didn’t interrupt it once to change an outfit. In fact he hadn’t brought any down with him. He now wanted more from his time with me. And he was ready to experience more during his time with me. 

 

The months in which I had played along with all dressing up and the toys and the constant interruptions to sensation had made him feel seen and accepted, which meant he trusted me – the things a whore goes through to gain a man’s trust! 

 

It had worked, which was satisfying. And, once the trust was there he was open to being guided to feel sensation again. My ticking off, whilst uncomfortable for him, had been the catalyst he had needed. 

 

If I had prostituted myself to feed his porn-fed model of sex, our sessions would have stayed stuck in uncomfortable for me and essentially empty for him. 

 

Because I am a whore I spoke my truth and gave him an option that would enable his growth.

 

And he really grew. Stripped of most of the paraphernalia he became a lover. 

 

I used his name for the first time during a session. He loved that. And he had earned that. 

 

Hearing your name moaned in pleasure is incredibly validating and arousing. When he had been busy changing costumes in the bathroom while I lay alone on the bed there had been no arousal for me, so no reason or opportunity to murmur his name. 

 

But P the lover was giving me many reasons to murmur his name. So, between kisses, I did. 

 

Despite the flow, the intimacy and the orgasmic sex that I was finally experiencing with him, he did still step away from the flow 2 or 3 times. His reason was valid – he wanted to check the time on his phone so that we didn’t overrun. 

 

The reason the conscious mind gives to step away from growth, in this case, feeling sensation in his body, is always reasonable, but I recognised it for what it was – resistance. And I made a mental note to address this in the following day’s massage.

 

I drove away from our encounter in the hotel room feeling very satisfied – both as a whore and as a woman. P had let go of the cock cage, the costumes, the tape, the mouth-dick dildo. In their absence he had felt so much more and he had given so much more. P had transitioned from being a little boy trapped in a porn bubble into a lover who was intent on serving his Queen.

 

His Queen very much approved.

 

And she was not at all surprised when he told me at the end of the session that he had stopped consuming porn. Confirming my long held belief that porn is to good sex what soured milk is to coffee. Freed from the constant images that porn feeds the brain, he was able to connect with a real woman. And the real woman had loved it!

 

The following morning, as I prepared myself and my room for the massage session, I mused over his persistent need to break away from the session. What had been costume changes and some exciting toy had morphed into a “time check” but the break was still there and whilst it had been less of a problem, it was still an interruption to the flow of energy between two bodies which this whore then had to work to reconnect. Annoying.

 

So why does he do it? I wondered. Safety, safety, safety came the whispered reply from deep within me. 

 

When he arrived, in stark contrast to the night before, I invited him to undress himself to lie down on my bed under the fluffy blanket and to close his eyes. The words of the meditation bubbled out of me, line after line bringing his attention to the safety of the room, coaching him to feel safe in his body, even when he felt sensation. I guided him on using his senses and breath to feel sensation and I connected physical sensation with his energy body and The Divine. 

 

At the end of the meditation he was deeply relaxed. Clearly feeling safe and I hoped, had begun to feel sensation in the palms of his hands if not, yet, in his genitals. I removed the blanket, asked him to roll over, turned up the music and placed my hands on his back.

 

The back massage was as beautiful as it always is. I loved the feeling of his body relaxing and yielding to my hands. I could feel that he was feeling and it pleased me. I included his prostate because, after all, I had fucked him hard the night before. 

 

When I invited him to roll over he asked, “Do I open my eyes now?” As he asked this question he opened his eyes, momentarily I felt his body tense so my answer surprised me, “It’s your choice, I think you will feel more if you keep them closed, but it is your session.” 

 

Fortunately he chose to close his eyes again and his body immediately relaxed. I poured oil over the front of his body and sat astride him genital to genital. I picked up his right hand, massaged the heart opening point in his palm before holding it on my heart chakra with my left hand, my right hand placed on his heart chakra.

 

Sitting in stillness, genital to genital, heart to heart for a few moments I allowed the energy to swirl around and between us. I heard him mutter quietly, “This is beautiful.” 

 

When I tried to move the right hand onto my left breast to play with it as I repeated the process with his left hand, his hand refused to move. I managed to massage the left hand and place it on top of the right hand. And he held both hands there for what felt like an age.

 

Where had Mr Interrupt-The-Flow gone?!

 

This was deep connection. Deeper than I think I have ever previously experienced with any client. Through his palms he was connecting his heart to mine. Our genitals throbbed slightly sending energy to each other, otherwise his palms held my body still. He did not want to break the spell.

 

I was in no hurry, I did not want to rob P of this deeply connected moment. This is what he has always wanted. He had just been looking in the wrong places to find it. I smiled to myself. Pleased to have earned his trust to finally give him the experience that he had been yearning for.

 

When he was ready to drop his palms we progressed onto the lingam massage and he enjoyed a full 20 minutes of me pleasuring his wounded cock. He came as I used a variation of the bashing technique that I use with all circumcised cocks to bring them to an explosive 10. With him I moved his cock between my two palms hard and fast, so that the glans bashed against my palms, in a rhythm that I could only maintain with my eyes closed.

 

After he came, he opened his eyes, looked into mine and just said, “Thank you. Truly, thank you.”

 

He didn’t need to say more. I knew that the whore had rewarded him handsomely for pleasing the woman so well the evening before.

 

My whore’s skills had finally been given the space to do what they do so well – re-connect a disconnected man with sensation, with his body, with his energy, with The Divine within him. To do that I had to gain his trust and that had been an interesting journey.

 

And now we are here. He won’t be able to get down to me again for about 6 months. I hope that if he uses porn again it is in moderation and that when I next visit him in a local hotel room our sex builds on the experience we had this time. I hope that with every meet his sexual confidence grows until one day he doesn’t need me any more and he meets a real, real woman who he can make smile and laugh and come.

 

Circumcision is a horrific crime committed by patriarchy on men. But it doesn’t have to be a life sentence of denied pleasure and sensation. Trust can be built between two people to create a space that is safe enough for wounded, terrified, brutalised cocks to feel sensation again. 

 

I am so pleased and proud to have the skills and knowledge to create that safe space and also the bluntness to refuse to play along with someone’s avoidance tactics, however creative and playful they may be. 

 

I am a whore. My passion, my mission and my life’s purpose is to reconnect people to the pleasure and sensation that is their birth right. 

 

Including the men who have been brutalised by the people who despise me.  

 

Photo by Alessio Zappatore on Unsplash

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Taking The War Out of Man – A Whore’s Musings

What is this “War”?

 

What is “Man” fighting?

 

For many men the war is deeply personal – grief, loss, loneliness, disappointment, depression – a life lived so out of alignment with his soul’s purpose that he can’t rid himself of the constant sense of dissatisfaction, however much material success he has created in his life.

 

I contend that these (and other) personal experiences are different manifestations of the same war waged on all men. A war waged on all humans by the social structure we have lived under for the last 5,000 years of our 300,000 year existence – patriarchy.

 

Patriarchy does not serve women, we know that, but anyone who thinks patriarchy serves men, or indeed, is designed to serve men any better is deluded and just not seeing the actual evidence right in front of their eyes.

 

It frustrates me how common it is to see men unthinkingly defending a social system that is designed to control them and limit their dreams and desires, just as much as it intends to control, limit and suppress women. 

 

Patriarchy is the system created by an elite FEW (very, very, very few) to own ALL the resources including human time, labour and energy for the benefit of that teeny tiny elite.

 

Patriarchy fully intends to control and exploit men. 

 

It does so by pretending to represent them and by offering them the control of women in exchange for their compliance – a classic, age-old strategy of divide and rule. Patriarchy is a hierarchical social structure which, by offering men power over women, hopes to hoodwink men into not seeing their own loss of personal power and sovereignty. 

 

Based on what I see in the world around me the strategy worked.

 

Obviously this is a tragedy for women who have spent 1,000s of years under the boots of their men-folk. Considered little better than the rest of the family’s livestock, not even granted a soul for 100s of years, women were consigned to live under the “Rule of Thumb” (an English law that stated a husband could use corporal punishment on his wife – his possession – as long as the stick he beat her with was no thicker than his thumb).

 

But it is an equal tragedy for men who suffer immeasurably from the separation and disconnect this patriarchal structure has imposed upon us all. 

 

Men and women are at their very best when they are connected in loving harmony. Harmony, equality, union, co-operation, collaboration are all ideas that are deeply threatening to patriarchy which relies, for its survival, on a hierarchical structure of control.

 

Maybe the most threatening teaching that Jesus offered the world was the joy of union with a woman he considered his equal in all ways. Certainly the efforts of the patriarchal Church to suppress and extinguish anything to do with Mary Magdalena (including her gospel) would suggest this to be the case. Unlike Adam, Jesus was at ease receiving wisdom, guidance, love and deep sexual companionship from his female companion, Mary.

 

As she was highly trained to do, Mary ignited Jesus’ kundalini energy playing with it to strengthen his energy body for the trials he was to endure. It was an integral part of their work together. The union of Mary Magdalena and Jesus had the potential to heal the deep wound of separation inflicted on humanity by the vicious response of a vengeful God for Eve’s innocent curiosity.

 

The patriarchs would not allow it and we know the rest of the story – the crucifixion, the Council of Nicea and the extermination of the Cathars, just for starters.

 

Maybe that is why men have remained so compliant? They look at what the patriarchs did to Jesus for daring to connect in divine sexual union with a woman he considered his equal in all ways, and, from fear, have denied themselves this pleasure ever since? 

 

I am sure very few men find themselves nodding along to my words, they’ll be saying, “Not me…I’m not like that.” But in 100s of different ways you are.

 

Let’s look at the statistics. Something like 95% of women aged between 18 and 24 admitted to having been sexually harassed in some way.  The only way a figure this huge can be explained is that men (and women) just don’t know to interact sexually. 

 

This is no surprise to me. Patriarchy pushed sexual desires and urges deep into society’s shadow from where, unseen, unacknowledged, untrained, unchannelled, unmastered, unrefined –  it simply reeks havoc.

 

Few of the men doing harm to women want to harm them. They want the opposite. They dearly want to connect deeply and passionately but they simply don’t know how.

 

This is 100% the fault of patriarchy! 

 

Divide and rule remember. How better to divide and rule than to divide us by gender and make 50% of the planet fear the other 50%. And yes, I know the fear goes both ways. Whilst women fear physical harm (even death), men fear emotional harm and deep shame from women. 

 

Everyone is meeting for sex filled with fear (and her sister shame) making sexual intimacy an increasingly rare experience. 

 

And patriarchy is delighted by this!

 

The unhappier and more disconnected we are the more we self medicate with their offerings: material possessions, food, alcohol, drugs (peddled both legally from your GP’s surgery and illegally on the streets) – it makes them richer by making us poorer – materially, emotionally and spiritually. 

 

The war I see in all men (and by extension all women) is this tragic disconnect between them and the lie, which began with Adam that there is only one “correct” way of “doing” sex and that everything else is in some way sinful. We have all been duped into believing that the “original sin” was reaching for and tasting knowledge from the Tree of Life.

 

Adam’s self injurious notion that Lilith should submit to the new patriarchal model of sex as the only way to have sex birthed 1,000s of years of myth making around human sexuality denying humans their true sexual nature and the deep connection that flows from it.

 

The worst myth, and it absolutely is a myth, is that men want power over women in the bedroom. It concerns me that every single one of my clients thinks that he is “odd” because my pleasure is more important to him than his own gratification. I am concerned that he finds this “odd” because it is completely normal! 

 

Every man wants his sexual partner to be lost in raptures of orgasmic pleasure – it makes him feel AMAZING. 

 

Yet Adam has convinced us all for 1,000s of years that “real men” are threatened by, even uninterested in female sexual appetite and pleasure. To maintain the patriarchal version of “masculine” men reinforce the notion that it is “normal” for them to disregard (or even shame) female sexual pleasure.  

 

When they confess their true feelings it is to me, a whore, rather than with other men in the locker room or the pub.

 

Imagine a world in which men felt safe to share spell binding sexual experiences and pool ideas on how to please their women with each other. You can’t can you? That’s patriarchy damaging men. 

 

Men are not safe to talk amongst themselves about the sex that they yearn for because to do so would make them appear less masculine. 

 

So they continue to joke about “fishy fannies” whilst secretly adoring the taste of the woman they were lucky enough to go down on. 

 

They continue to publicly slut shame young women for sexual misadventures but never the young men they were misadventuring with.  

 

In this world where good sex happens in secret, but bad sex is practised in broad daylight, is it any wonder that many men simply do not learn how to “sex” a woman?

 

A second damaging myth, related to the first, is that women are not, by their “true nature”, as sexual as men, and worse, that sex harms women. According to patriarchy, men have (and are even encouraged to have) voracious, “animal-like” sexual appetites and it is the duty of women to counter this, fend off the beast in man and civilise him. 

 

Thus women are shamed if we feel anything animal-like within us and then shamed further when we fail to tame our men (who, until recently, could legally beat us with thumb thick sticks when we disobeyed them?!) Under patriarchy men get all the permission and women get a double dose of shame, so how does this myth create a war in man?

 

Because “Nice guys”, men who have grown up under feminism with newly empowered mothers (released from the “Rule of Thumb” at least) believe this myth. They have either been told expressly as young and impressionable boys by their mothers that sex harms women, or they have absorbed this from the culture around them. 

 

Of course as decent human beings many, if not most, men will reject the abusive and exploitative model of sexuality personified by the likes of Andrew Tate but many, very sadly, come to the wrong conclusion that it is sex that harms women not harmful men misappropriating sex that harms women. 

 

With good information (the reason why I write this blog) and with good experiences (the reason I am a whore) men can learn how to give women sexual experiences that nourish and empower both parties. But deprived of good information and/or good experiences, and living in a world flooded by toxic online porn, many, many men are left feeling that in some way their desire for sex with women is harmful and must be suppressed. 

 

Can you see how that harms men and causes an internal war within them?

 

Penetrative sex, the sex that men most yearn for, requires the man to be so deeply present, so loving, so honouring, so respectful, so trauma conscious, so confident, so strong and sure in himself – it’s a big ask! 

 

And it is all possible. 

 

However, if you have grown up believing that sex is harmful to women how can you show up in this way for women sexually? How can you be deeply present for her during sex if you are fighting internal feelings of guilt, shame and self loathing?

 

Any sex you do have will lack connection. The experience will lack real pleasure for either of you. Worst of all, your lack of presence will make her feel unsafe, she won’t be able to abandon herself to you and the rubbish sex that you end up having will have been harmful to her because sex without deep connection, presence, honouring and reverence is harmful.  

 

This is how nice guys inadvertently cause sexual harm to women, ending up not so different to the monsters they distance themselves from.

 

And, for many men, unresolved, this situation gets worse.

 

Lucky women are married to men who have had enough good experiences or have consciously chosen to develop the traits she needs him to have for nourishing, abandoned, orgasmic sexual experiences. These women, your whore included, remain sexual their whole happy lives. 

 

Unlucky women are married to men who haven’t done the self development and growth, so faced with years of weakness and lack of presence in the bedroom they simply stop agreeing to sex with their men.

 

Being married to a woman who does not want sex with you is such an obvious harm to men that I am seriously flummoxed that they can’t see what patriarchy, and its myth making, has robbed them of!

 

Please don’t misunderstand me, I don’t think any of this is the individual man’s fault. I do not blame men for patriarchy. My whole shtick is that patriarchy harms men as much as it harms women and to give you some really good reasons to stop defending it and fighting to keep it! 

 

Patriarchy has done immeasurable harm to human sexuality. We heal it by understanding what has been done to us and then by working together, not by pointing fingers of blame at each other which only hands another win to patriarchy.

 

The war in man is much the same as the war in women – of course it is! We are all humans and we have all been driven apart by an exploitative social system that seeks to control us all.

 

So let’s blow these myths right out of the water shall we? 

 

Women are by nature as sexual as men – we have been shamed since before Eve by patriarchal society way more than men – but we ALL, men and women, want sex!

 

Men and women all yearn for deep loving intimacy in our sex. Men do not want to exert their power over women sexually or in any other way. They never did. It has always harmed them, at a spiritual level, as much as it did women. 

 

Men want partnership. They want to be seen, to be held, to be loved, to be accepted for who they are as much as women want to be seen, to be held, to be loved and to be accepted for who they are.

 

We are not different. We are all the same. Essentially it’s not complicated – we all want the connection, the joy, the orgasmic download of hormones, the experience of transcending our prosaic material existence to dance amongst the stars in the infinite quantum realm. 

 

We all want the deeply intimate connection with another human being that stops us feeling so isolated and alone on this planet.  

 

Whores understand this. We see the war in men and experience the war in our own bodies. We have done our own deep inner healing and committed to enough personal development to show up for others from a place of deep love and compassion. 

 

Whores want to bring the world together in love and harmony but we are up against a very well oiled and very powerful machine which does not want to let go of its creation: disunited and miserable humans living separate, isolated lives. 

 

Challenge these myths in your psyche when they show up. 

 

Be a ripple in the pond that shifts humanity’s consciousness. 

 

“Normal Women” By Philippa Gregory

 

“The Magdalen Manuscript – The Alchemies of Horus and The Sex Magic of Isis” By Tom Kenyon and Judi Sion

 

“No More Mr Nice Guy” By Dr Robert Glover

Connecting to Tenderness in The Wounded Masculine

“Patriarchy teaches boys that masculinity means control, emotional invulnerability, sexual access, public authority and distance from everything coded female. It teaches them that anger is strength, grief is weakness, care is emasculating and women’s attention is a resource owed to them if they perform masculinity correctly….

 

….This is the crisis. Not ‘men are monsters.’ Not ‘boys are born bad.’ Not ‘women good, men bad, please clap.’ The crisis is that boys are being handed a broken emotional toolkit and then told the hammer is the only instrument a real man should need….

 

….I hate the system that teaches boys to amputate parts of themselves and then calls the wound masculinity…

 

…Need is human, while entitlement is political. A man needing love, care, intimacy, friendship, sex, belonging, respect, purpose and tenderness is not a problem. Those are human needs, Everyone has them. Everyone is shaped by whether they receive them….

 

…..Patriarchy is killing us. It is killing women through violence, control, medical neglect, forced pregnancy, economic inequality….It is killing men too, through isolation, emotional repression, grievance, politics, violence, addiction, despair (war – my addition) and the lie that being loved is less important than being obeyed. Feminism did not create this crisis. Feminism is just one of the few traditions honest enough to name it….

 

….Men and boys are not in crisis because women got too mean, too educated, too independent, too feminist… They are in crisis because patriarchy promised them a throne and gave them a cage. And some of them are so attached to the cage they cannot even see the bars.”

 

 Professor Meredith Bitchy History on Substack

 

I read Professor Meredith’s brilliantly written and sometimes laugh-out-loud funny article while drinking my morning coffee in the garden as the day warmed up. It had been another viciously hot week and being able to sit and enjoy a coffee was a rare treat. The birds were singing and the garden humming with life – so much abundance, so much joy, so much life. 

 

I watched the cats stretch out in the early rays, enjoying the soft breeze before the heat of the day became something to hide from, and I wondered how did we all get so lost? How did we all get so disconnected from how beautiful and magical and abundant life is?

 

The answer is always the same. 

 

A system of hierarchy and control that was created to separate us from the world around us and from each other. Separated and disconnected from the magical abundance of life and our innate creativity, we flap around like fish out of water, desperate to breathe but in completely the wrong environment to do so. 

 

Of course a fish out of water won’t survive long. The GENIUS of patriarchy is to make it survivable but only that – survivable.

 

Let me be clear. Patriarchy is not men. Men are not patriarchy. 

 

Patriarchy is a system of extraction and exploitation. It uses hierarchy as an instrument of control. Of course, if you are slightly up the hierarchical ladder you feel “good” when you look down on those beneath you, but it’s still only survival, just in a slightly nicer suit.

 

To thrive humans need to feel connected. We need intimacy, both platonic and sexual. We need belonging – with an intimate partner (or partners), within a family and within a community of deeply trusted friends. In order to develop and nourish these intimacies we need the emotional skills to ask for what we need/desire and to hear (without defence) what others need/desire from us.

 

We need to reach adulthood skilled in kindness, compassion, love, patience, honesty, courage, open-heartedness, tenderness. We need to be able to feel and safely express the full range of our emotions.

 

But patriarchy does not want us to thrive. A thriving population would learn its collective power and so would strive together, in unison, for independence, self-governance and sovereignty. 

 

You can’t exploit a thriving and empowered population. 

 

You can’t control people who know their own power and see and celebrate the power in the people around them. 

 

You can’t control people who collaborate with one another instead of competing as they have been programmed to do. 

 

But you can control people if you train them from a very young age into roles that will define them, and their relationships with other people, for life. The Jesuits famously proclaimed, “Give me the boy until the age of 7 and I will give you the man.” I watched as my children were conditioned, despite my best efforts, by people and wider society around me.

 

One day particularly stands out in my memory. I had walked the youngest across the fields to meet his school bus at the other end of the village as we did most mornings. We had had a particularly lovely walk, he has always had an incredible, enquiring mind and interesting perspective on the world and I have always deeply valued our chats. 

 

On that morning we were feeling particularly connected and him leaving me to go to school, which would bore his beautiful, inquisitive mind to death, felt like a cruel wrench – for both of us. 

 

The mini-bus drew up as we were swapping red wellies for black school shoes and we both started feeling really emotional – we weren’t ready for the impending separation. Neither of us wanted to be separated (separating children from their families for compulsory education is an essential tool of patriarchy), I was holding back tears and “being brave.” 

 

My little boy was less tightly programmed than me – he was still young, they’d had him for far fewer years than they had had me – and he started crying in great big sobs. It really tugged at my heart, but that was not what was making me want to cry. I wanted to cry because I didn’t want to be parted from my joyous, beautiful boy any more than he wanted to be parted from me.

 

As we stepped onto the bus so that I could settle him into his seat, the old, kindly Santa-look-a-like bus driver said, “Pull it together lad – look you’re making your mother cry – man up!”

 

I was furious. I turned on the sweet old man who was, after all, only repeating the harm done to him, and hissed, “How dare you! Crying is a perfectly acceptable and honest expression of emotion and a sign of a healthy person. DO NOT presume to tell my son how he should behave.”

 

Of course my words were wasted. The damage was done. Patriarchy had won, again. My boy didn’t come home a completely changed being, but it was another brick in the wall. 

 

The kindly Santa-look-a-like bus driver seemingly played a very peripheral role in my son’s life – he only drove the mini bus to and from a school. Yet he was one of the men who raised my son, the men in society beyond my front door, and therefore beyond my control, who taught my boys what it is to be a man. 

 

I am a woman. I cannot raise boys to be men. I am a model for girls, not boys. On that morning the bus driver amputated a part of my young son’s emotional body. My boy carries that wound into adulthood, it was one of the lessons that helped him to define and understand what it is “to be a man.” 

 

It’s such a cliché but in 2016/17 my beautiful boy learned that TO BE A MAN you must:

 

  1. Not cry
  2. Not upset your mother

 

This is a huge wound that needs healing. 

 

Children are NEVER responsible for their parent’s emotional states – that is the job of adults, not children. Yet my young boy had just been told by an older (thus to be respected) MAN (i.e. role model on masculinity for my boy) that he was indeed responsible for my emotional states. 

 

And worse, he learnt this in the year his parents – the people who should keep him safe – were themselves going through a divorce thanks to their own unresolved childhood trauma.

 

I hope that my son, now a young man, will be challenged in relationship to heal this wound. Or maybe he will find a good therapist, a men’s healing group or a shaman skilled in using plant medicine? Sadly the wound is below the level of consciousness and he lives in a society in which carrying this wound is the entry criteria to “masculinity.”

 

So, when after a particularly beautiful and intimate session with a client, lying, limbs entangled on the bed, he mused that feminism had gone too far and made intimacy too difficult for men and women I was honestly lost for words (a rare event for me!)

 

I clearly live in a completely different algorithmic world to him. I am not fed manosphere diatribes against feminism, I am fed Bitchy History diatribes against patriarchy! I am not reading that the feminist fight for bodily self autonomy and the right to choice in our lives is somehow to blame for the crisis in “masculinity.”

 

I think he thought that because I am a sexually active woman who loves cock and offers a professional sex service I am somehow not a feminist? I took a deep breath, reminded myself to be kind and said something like, “How does women having choice harm men?”

 

Flustered, (he obviously realised a bit too late that he had ejaculated all over a real life feminist) he replied, “No….but it’s gone a bit too far hasn’t it?”

 

“In what way?” I asked.

 

When he didn’t reply I offered, “It seems to me that you think feminism is some kind of war against men? It really isn’t. It’s a war against a system of oppression and control that harms men just as much as it harms women. If only men could see how trapped and exploited they are and then either join women in fighting patriarchy as feminists or create a parallel movement to fight with us for freedom for us all?”

 

I had said too much. The cognitive dissonance was writ large on his face and he muttered about not being as well read as me and fled to the shower. 

 

When you’re not enduring a relationship with a man who’s stuck in the algorithmic manosphere it is easy to have compassion for them. They are clearly being manipulated into hating and fearing THEIR PATH TO FREEDOM. 

 

Yes women were the first (of the two genders) to see that patriarchy is shit, we’ve read, written, talked, marched and even self-pleasured our way towards freedom and we love nothing more than when men (with the beautiful cocks we so enjoy sucking and fucking) join us in that fight.

 

But obviously patriarchy is going to fight back. Obviously the machine will pay to boost a few toxic individuals who eagerly tell men, “It’s all women’s fault” to keep men from the warrior women who could work with them towards freedom, power, personal sovereignty and meaningful connected community.

 

The cage that patriarchy works so hard to keep men in is incredibly brutal. From birth boys are conditioned to disconnect from, suppress, judge and shame essentially human traits. Let’s list just a few:

 

Sensitivity – being alert and receptive to the mood in the room, your own and other’s emotions, states of wellbeing and energies. Shut down because a “sensitive man” is a sissy. (Patriarchy doesn’t only seek to shut down sensitivity in men – I was raised in a family that used the label “over-sensitive” not as a compliment, but as an affliction to grow out of.)

 

Collaboration and cooperation – sacrificed on the altar of competition as boys are taught that being Number 1 – A Winner – is more desirable than working collectively within community to reach an outcome that benefits everyone.

 

Kindness – left to women.

 

Compassion – left to women.

 

Empathy – left to women.

 

Tenderness – what even is that? Definitely left to women.

 

Crying – don’t ever do this!! And never, ever allow yourself to feel anything that might make you cry. Crying effectively equals woman. Only women and babies cry. A man who cries is effectively cutting off his own balls. 

 

Which brings me onto: 

 

Circumcision – the single most effective and brutal act inflicted by patriarchy on infant boys. You cannot argue that it’s not both cruel and unnecessary, yet half the planet is still circumcising their infant boys who live with the consequences of trauma and reduced sensitivity for life. 

 

You still think patriarchy is something you want to defend by attacking feminists?!

 

In my session today I was very preoccupied with the concept of tenderness. What would tenderness even look like in a man? What is tenderness? How is a man tender? 

 

I was musing over these questions as I lit my candles and incense, connected my playlist to the speaker, showered, dressed, applied lipstick and mascara. Could I think of a moment when I had witnessed or experienced tenderness in a man?

 

My client arrived – a Musubi/Kama session – I invited him to undress and lie down and guided him through a short body meditation. He relaxed quickly and fell into a deep trance, “excellent” I thought. I asked him to roll over onto his front which he did almost without stirring, again – “excellent” I thought. 

 

His body reacted quickly to the massage and despite the heat in the room I gave him a really sexy, deeply sensual and highly erotic massage. He hadn’t been sure whether he wanted a prostate massage, I had suggested that we follow his body’s desires (or lack of) and go where the energy flowed. His body screamed for a prostate massage – all the classic signs – bum pushing up towards my hands as they glided over it, relaxed buttocks, soft anal rose. 

 

Gingerly and very slowly, I entered him. I applied gentle pressure to his prostate whilst I stroked his shaft, frenulum and balls with my free hand. He was moaning with pleasure, his cock hard, he was pushing back against my finger, but I knew this was the first time for him and I know the released energies are powerful. He had a beautiful cock which I wanted to feel deep down my throat and deep inside in my cunt, I didn’t want to make his energy too powerful for him to ride.

 

So I withdrew my finger and sat astride him, grinding my vulva into his buttocks for a few moments, moving the energy I had just activated between and around our two bodies, while I removed the glove I had worn to penetrate him. Then I leant forward and whispered in his ear, “Roll over.” I raised myself up allowing him to roll over underneath me so that as his face came around he was met with an eyeful of oily breast. 

 

He immediately took hold of them and buried his face deep into their generous flesh, his fingers finding my nipples which you will know, if you have ever spent any time with me, always makes me come. He hadn’t met me before, he felt my juices beginning to flow over his cock and between his legs, “That feels amazing” he sighed. 

 

“Pinch harder” I replied, kissing him full on the mouth knowing that what was about to come would blow his mind as it always does. He pinched and then, as invited, bit down on my nipples. The heavens opened, the longed for rain gushed over him and he was soaked. 

 

 It was too much for him. 

 

“I’m going to come,” he gasped. I could see him desperately fighting the urge to come, tensing his body, tightening his face – tension and tightness accelerate the process and before I could coach him into long gentle exhales to relax and allow, he had come – copious amounts of beautiful sperm all over his sacrum and hip, my thigh and the bed. There is something endlessly magical and miraculous about sperm isn’t there?

 

His exhilaration and intense pleasure was immediately fighting disappointment and shame. 

 

Disappointment that his session – for him – had come to an end and shame that he had failed to control his pleasure and come “too soon.” I could see his inner turmoil and frustration and I did what any self respecting tantric whore would do, I invited him to relax and receive pleasure in a softer, gentler, calmer state.

 

I have brought countless men to orgasm post ejaculation. Many are only too pleased to lie and fully relax, even sleep lightly, as I work my magic with my hands. Post ejaculation men can fall into a deep, deep place of relaxation and in this place it is so much easier to move energy around the body. Very often, whilst almost asleep, they will then feel the unfamiliar experience of orgasmic energy in their chest, arms, hands, legs, feet.

 

Their cock hardens but hasn’t got the same urgency to come because they are so deeply relaxed. It’s beautiful to watch and very empowering. Yes, I was sad not to ride my client’s cock today, but I was equally excited about pleasing him as he dozed off, building his energy until we were both caught up in the dance again.

 

We had plenty of time left on the clock. I wiped away the sperm, picked up my little bottle of coconut oil and settled myself between his legs to give exquisite pleasure.

 

“Thank you, that was amazing. Can I have a shower?” said the voice at the other end of the bed.

 

“Would you not accept my invitation to receive pleasure in a softer, gentler, quieter state?”

 

He lay quietly for a bit, but his legs stayed upright, feet planted on the bed either side of me, knees restricting the movement of my arms, creating a protective barrier around his cock. This was not a body open to receiving or relaxing back into pleasure.

 

I persevered. I stroked, twisted, licked and even sucked his beautiful soft cock. At moments it throbbed its appreciation and I smiled back, “I know it’s lovely to experience tenderness.”

 

TENDERNESS. 

 

That word again. In that moment I was in the wound. And I understood what tenderness is. 

 

Tenderness is softness. 

 

Tenderness is being soft, feeling soft, sharing soft.

 

Pleasure can be so soft – think of a feather stroking across skin. But men are conditioned to expect and require their cocks to be hard. Only a hard cock earns the right to be grasped, stroked, teased, licked, sucked, fucked. 

 

My client today was clearly deeply uncomfortable receiving pleasure in softness. His cock wasn’t. It was throbbing appreciatively in my hands and mouth. But his mind – the seat of patriarchal conditioning – was roaring NO!!! YOU HAVE NOT EARNED THIS!!

 

When he asked again if he could go and have a shower of course I didn’t deny his request. I was sad that he was unable to receive my loving attention post ejaculation, but I wasn’t going to force myself on him. 

 

I smiled, held his cock in one hand, placed the other on his heart chakra, took a few deep heart connected breaths, sent my love through my hands to his heart and his cock and then withdrew my touch and escorted him to the bathroom.

 

And I’m left with a new question to muse over this afternoon – how can a man show tenderness towards others, his partner, children, friends, society, the planet when he can’t allow himself to feel tenderness within himself? 

 

If he’s uncomfortable with being soft, how can he give the people in his life and beyond, the softness that they yearn for, crave and need? 

 

Can you feel the wound?

 

Can you see how patriarchy harms men and the people that they love?

 

Are you beginning to see the bars of the cage?

 

Are you ready to join us in resistance to reclaim your personal sovereignty, or will you carry on blaming women?

 

26.06.2026

 

Photo by Nour Wageh on Unsplash  

Nurturing Intimacy in The Marital Bedroom – How Can Whores Help?

Whores exist to sell sex, there’s no “intimacy” involved, everyone knows that!

 

Wrong my darlings, wrong.

 

Whores may sell sex, but they give intimacy – they use their knowledge, skills and bodies to guide their clients into a place of deep intimacy.

 

Humans are hard wired to need both sex and intimacy. All of us, men and women, need lives filled with sex and intimacy to thrive physically, emotionally, mentally and spiritually. 

 

Sadly there is a distinct lack of both in the world at the moment. Sex seems to be everywhere – it’s certainly all over our computer and television screens – but screen sex is to sex what MacDonald’s is to food – it might taste good as you eat it but as soon as you have finished your meal you begin to feel queasy and long term use will slowly destroy all vitality you ever had in your body.

 

Real sex, the sex that is nourishing for your body, mind and soul is increasingly rare and I would suggest that is because intimacy is also increasingly rare.

 

Let me begin by explaining what I mean when I use the word “intimacy”. 

 

Intimacy is derived from the Latin “intimus” meaning “innermost” or “deepest”. Applicable both to your deep feelings for another person, and an innermost/deepest experience within yourself. In other words, intimacy is the word given to the deep connection you are able to make both within yourself and with others.

 

However, and there is a big, painful, however. Intimacy can only be experienced when there are no blocks to intimacy in an individual or a couple. And what blocks intimacy? One word. Fear. 

 

Fundamentally, you are only able to experience intimacy (with self or others) to the same extent that you are free from fear within yourself and with others. Intimacy requires that you feel safe within yourself and with others. 

 

Sadly, sex which can be a powerful means to build intimacy, is very often riddled with fear. 

 

From a young age our minds are filled with fear around sex by anxious parents, awful (if existing) sex-ed in schools, The Church (and other places of worship), the media, big pharma (peddling their expensive and toxic drugs), our friends and wider society – all telling us that sex is something that is difficult, dangerous and harmful. So that by the time many (maybe most) of us reach the age when we start feeling sexual stirrings we are not only ignorant, but also terrified, about how to act upon them.

 

Our bodies carry yet more fear. 1,000s of years of shit sex alone have traumatised the collective feminine. Trauma is carried through our bodies intergenerationally. The egg that became my daughter was in me when I was inside my mother’s womb so that any trauma my mother experienced, sexual or otherwise, was imprinted not only in me, but also in my daughter. Add to that the trauma our bodies experience in this lifetime (including shit consensual sex).

 

My contention is that men haven’t fared much better. It’s pretty obvious to me that causing harm to other people ultimately harms you. Up until 1991 (when marital rape was criminalised in the UK) the law may have been on a man’s side when he claimed his conjugal rights, but if the woman’s body flinched and withdrew from his touch as she endured his claim, it would have been harmful to him at an energetic level if not consciously. 

 

Further, however well intentioned and loving men are individually (and most truly, truly are), they have been raised in a society which for 5,000 plus years has sexually harmed women, often just by insisting that she “enjoy” unpleasurable (aka harmful) sex because that’s what God says is the “right” way.

 

The combination of fear in our minds – fear of shame, fear of sin, fear of harm, fear of failure, fear of pregnancy, fear of disease, fear of rejection, fear of laughter, fear of orgasm (le petit mort), even fear of death (le grand mort – for those of us who grew up in the shadow of HIV) – with the fear we carry in our bodies – the physical memory of trauma from this life, a past life or even inter-generational, creates an enormous block to intimacy in sex.

 

Fearful people cannot develop intimacy – a place of safety – within their own bodies, let alone anyone else’s. So sex becomes rushed, reluctant, functional, mechanical, predictable, dull, boring and fails to light up our bodies, or our relationships. 

 

Intimacy is needed to experience good sex. Good sex is needed to develop intimacy. 

 

The challenge for all of us – those in relationships and those looking for relationships – is how do we create intimacy so that we can love better? 

 

How can we connect better? 

 

How do we find belonging? 

 

We all need to feel safe, to feel loved and to belong. But childhood trauma, inherited trauma and the collective trauma makes this very complicated for us. 

 

Surely one incredibly important step we need to take to find the love, connection and belonging that we need is to identify our needs, wants and desires and then to communicate them to those closest to us in our lives, especially our relationship partner.

 

Humans evolved the most brilliant means of communication – it’s the reason our brains grew and the reason we created pretty much everything we have in our modern lives. Humans communicate through talk – words expressed by a mouth and heard by another’s ear. Talk literally evolved humans, so surely communication through talk should be easy in our relationships?

 

I’m very struck by the silence men are reared to conform to. In England it’s long been called the “Stiff upper lip” and it’s revered as one of the most essential of English qualities. We send our boys off to boarding schools, sometimes at incredibly young ages, separating them from the warm, chatty women in their lives in order to instill this omertà. 

 

It’s not only English men who are stripped of that most essential of human traits – the ability to communicate by talking with others and raised to bear it all in silence. It seems to me, to some extent or another, silence in men is highly valued across the western world as a sign of masculinity.

 

Omertà, staying quiet, not saying out loud how you feel, not asking for help, not feeling or showing any vulnerability is both highly prized by patriarchy and immensely damaging to men who suffer in silence and alone in their millions. 

 

The suicide rate for men in the UK is almost 3 times higher than it is in women, coping alone, not feeling and sharing their feelings, not talking, not asking for their needs to be met has an enormous toll on our men. This should trouble everyone. It certainly troubles this whore.

 

As many women know, and all whores know, men DO talk and they’re capable of sharing deep truths when they feel safe. Men need safety and intimacy just as much as women do. 

 

What does a man need to feel safe? Again, whores know this. 

 

They need physical, sensual, sexual touch. They need to be held close and feel physically held and loved. 

 

Fucking really, really, really helps a man to talk and to cry – there is something deeply healing for a man about feeling his penis held inside a vagina (I suspect this is partly about returning to the safety and unconditional love he last felt when he was inside the womb). 

 

Esther Perel theorises (from a career spent working with couples) that whilst women need to talk in order to feel safe enough to fuck, men need to fuck in order to feel safe enough to talk.

 

This is fine when you are in a well functioning relationship and learn to do enough of both to satisfy both parties. But how do you get your floundering relationship back on track when you need the opposite things to feel safe enough to re-build intimacy between you?

 

Currently, in a society which believes in the binary nature of gender and uses biology to prove that we are different “by nature” rather than 1,000s of years of patriarchal indoctrination, I don’t see much hope for deep intimacy in most monogamous marital bedrooms. I just don’t. 

 

There’s a chasm between men who need/want sex and women who need/want talk in order to feel safe enough to give the other one what they need to feel safe. Resulting in an ever growing lack of safety in our relationships. 

 

Lacking the intimacy we need, most of us fail to articulate our needs, desires and wants but still expect them to be met. We look to our relationship partners to heal the childhood wounding we brought into the relationship with us even when, most often, we are unaware of the wounding we are carrying. 

 

We feel hurt, angry and upset when our partners fail to meet our (unacknowledged and unarticulated) needs and express ourselves clearly in tears, tantrums and fights, but, lacking intimacy, we never manage to dig deep enough to understand the underlying wounding.  

 

We get stuck in a negative spiral of unmet needs leading to emotional tempestuousness creating an unsafe environment in which we cannot learn about, let alone express, our deeply held unmet needs. 

 

We have all been in at least one relationship like this. The lucky ones find good quality help to break the cycle. The unlucky ones continue to suffer and pass the trauma down another generation and most likely spiral through a few relationships in exactly the same way before declaring they have “Given up on men/women (delete as appropriate).”

 

Maybe this is why, when whores worked in the temples, women – wives, mothers, sisters, cousins – took their men to the temple whores to “Have the war taken out of them” ? 

 

I genuinely don’t know whether men and women need different things to feel safe because of biology or socialisation. What I do know is that men currently feel very unsafe and it shows up in all sorts of toxic and aggressive ways. 

 

So much better for them to visit a whore – like someone with a bad back visits a chiropractor – to help them heal the pain within. Sadly, as much as men crave to feel loved, held, nurtured and cared for, if they’re not lucky enough to have this in their relationship, they don’t have a safe place to go. 

 

Downgrading the once revered position of the temple whore to the denigrated prostitute has (purposefully?) not created a safe, healing space for our men. Far too many men have reached for a moment of connection only to have gained themselves months, if not years of shame.

 

Dis-empowered prostitutes can’t keep their clients safe. They can’t hold space, they can’t define their terms, their hours, their way of working – which obviously harms them but it also harms the men who visit them. 

 

When wives, exhausted by long days of caring for young children or from climbing up the corporate ladder, or whilst dealing with the upheaval of menopause can’t reach their once beloved partners but want to help them feel good about themselves again, who can they take their men to with deep confidence? 

 

Heck, who can these women go to themselves to reconnect to the pleasure of their orgasm?

 

I am a whore and I am also a wife. I want my husband to thrive and I want our relationship to thrive because I want to live inside a thriving life! Despite my whore’s skills, understanding and knowledge I find it difficult to always be the person my husband needs and when our needs conflict we can easily spiral. 

 

Fortunately we have worked together for over a decade to learn how to reverse the spiral quickly, but I know what it feels like. I know how anger and resentment builds a wall between us that at least one of us has to use significant energy to scale or demolish. I know how quickly a misspoken word leads to sleeping in separate beds, hard faces and words being replaced by grunts. 

 

I know the pain of loneliness inside a relationship that is no longer intimate. 

 

This is where modern whores can be of service as our predecessors in the temple were. We can be a dispassionate third party with infinite love, compassion, tenderness, magic and sexual healing and act as a pattern disruptor in a spiralling relationship. Only one person in the relationship needs the energy to scale or demolish the wall that blocks intimacy. Whores can reconnect that one person to their energy, their light and their love.

 

Renewed men can then return home to their tired, angry, lonely, sad, frightened (and “frigid”) wives and show them how loved they are. Renewed men can take on the divine masculine role of holding their wives and giving them the love that they so desperately need. As Otis Reading sang: 

 

“Oh she may be weary

And young girls they do get weary

Wearing that same old shaggy dress

But when she gets weary

Try a little tenderness….” 

 

Intimacy is created in a space that is free from fear. Men and women alike desire and need intimacy to flourish and thrive. Maintaining intimacy is a challenging and constant job – like carrying grey water from my kitchen sink and showers out to my garden through the long, hot and very dry summer of 2026. It’s hard, if not impossible to do it on your own. But relationships, like gardens, will die if they are not watered. 

 

The temple priestesses restored men to their true power. They helped them to be better fathers, lovers, sons, husbands.  I truly believe that when enough prostitutes say “ENOUGH” at being downtrodden and despised and instead declare, “I AM A WHORE AND I AM PROUD!!”  we will be able to activate immense healing in relationships on this planet. Healed relationships raise happier children who do not find themselves repeating the toxic relationship pattern in adulthood. 

 

Yep, I said that, whores help you raise happier children!

 

A whore’s healing power is temporarily in her hands and in her cunt, but truly, it’s what her knowledge and skills reconnect her clients to – a safe, sacred space and energy within their own bodies because, ultimately intimacy is an inside job. 

 

We re-connect with ourselves first and from there we reconnect with our partners. The whore reconnects people to the divine light and love that is within them – has always been within them – but has been dimmed by so many years living in a toxic society.

 

When a client drives away from my house they don’t leave filled with shame and regret. They leave feeling renewed, feeling seen, feeling loved. None of this is an illusion, it’s all truth. I do see them – their unique essence, their divine beauty. I interact with their energy. I connect with their soul.

 

I truly hope that my married clients return to their homes feeling healthier, happier and able to give their spouses the love and attention they desire and need. I am aware most wives don’t know about me and that they’d be furious if they found out. 

 

But I’m not their competition or enemy, I am actually, not only helping their marriage stay together, I am also quietly coaching their husbands on how to show up more for their wives, to sit and listen as she talks about the children, her day, what Doris next door has just done. To be present for her and her need to talk and be properly listened to so that she is drawn back into intimacy with him.

 

If wives don’t want to fuck their husbands to help them feel safe enough to talk then allow me to do the honour! And I do consider it an honour. We could work together so well if only they’d open their hearts and minds to the possibilities. 

 

I hope that my blog posts help to shift perceptions to make this happen. But until such a miracle occurs I’ll continue to do my bit and send my clients home with a big smile on their faces and renewed intent to buy some flowers, make eye contact, ask generously, “How was your day darling?” and remember to put his underwear in the laundry basket.

 

Does it matter how a home becomes more harmonious? 

 

Does it matter who helps a couple to find safety with each other again? 

 

If a whore (working in the shadows until she is welcomed back into the light) has the skills to help rebuild loving intimacy in a relationship shouldn’t we celebrate her rather than feel threatened by her? 

 

Everyone in society gains when whores are restored to their rightful place – honoured and revered sexual shaman who’s healing work with men and women frees them from fears and rebuilds intimacy in their bodies and relationships.

 

Photo by Vitaly Gariev on Unsplash 

 

Recommended Further Reading: 

 

“Odd Man Out – Breaking the Vow of Male Silence” by Nige Atkinson 

 

“Mating in Captivity – How to Keep Desire Alive in Long-Term Relationships” By Esther Perel

 

“Getting the Love You Want: A Guide for Couples” By Harville Hendrix

I Lost All Touch & Sexual Intimacy in my Life – This Powerful Practice Brought it Back

 

“I really needed that!” he said, collapsing on top of me. The condom had done what condoms do and killed his erection; I moved my hand down his chest to remove it and let it drop over the side of the bed – I would tidy it away later.

 

“That is the first time I have felt a woman’s touch, let alone been inside her, for…..” he counted quietly in his head, “6 years.” I held him close, kissed him deeply, and allowed the lips of my labia to wrap around his softening cock. His pain was palpable.

 

It’s been a long time since I was in his shoes. For me it was the years filled with babies and young children when my then husband and I were both too exhausted to think about, let alone do, sex. I remember only too well what the lack of touch did to me. 

 

The feelings of aloneness, the emptiness, the way days lost their sparkle, how everything got just a little bit heavier, how my smile became a thing of the past. I remember how days became months, became years and then I found myself in a GP’s surgery being prescribed anti-depressants to stop me from killing myself. 

 

Lack of physical touch has a catastrophic effect on us. We are hardwired for touch. As a species we need touch and lots of it to remain healthy – mentally, emotionally, spiritually and yes, even physically. 

 

I now look back on my conversation with the GP with a whore’s wry smile, very much tinged with sadness. She was a very sweet, well meaning young woman who messaged reception to tell them she would need more time as soon as she looked at my “Depression Score” questionnaire. For the NHS she was very generous with her time which she used to insist that I get counselling as a condition for being  prescribed antidepressants. 

 

Counselling – talk therapy. 

 

Talk was better than nothing. But what I really, really, really needed was touch. 

 

Like my client today needed touch. 

 

Lack of touch has resulted in him also being prescribed antidepressants – another win for big pharma but a loss for him – they affect the strength of his erection which is never positive for a man. And here he was collapsed, buzzing with happiness and aliveness in my arms, his whole body vibrating with the pleasure of feeling a woman underneath him and wrapped around him. 

 

I made as much use as I could of every part of my body, my mouth pulled his into long deep kisses, my pelvis pushed up against him, my arms moved across his back and over his head, my thighs held him close, my feet stroked his legs and buttocks. I wanted to touch all of him with all of me. I wanted him to feel completely held and loved and showered with touch.

 

Touch is magical and it did its magic. The energy within our bodies criss-crossed between us, my turn on feeding his turn on which in turn fed mine. 

 

I had yet to feel his cock in my mouth and I deeply desired to. Earlier he had feasted on my cunt so hard and greedily I had been taken aback, his desire to be buried nose deep inside me had forced me back onto the pillow in deep surrender. Rarely has oral sex felt so penetrating! 

 

I wanted to feel his lips, his tongue, his stubble on me, and in me, again, but I wanted it with his cock pushing into my throat, deeper and deeper and deeper.

 

The session had begun with a meditation and massage as all my Musubi/Kama sessions do – very calm, deeply loving, an invitation to relax and receive. His sensitive body, so long deprived of physical contact with another human, had quivered in response to my first touch – the gentle laying of my palms, oil free, on his sacral and heart chakras at the start of the massage. By the time I was massaging the small of his back and his buttocks with my oily pubic mound the energy between us was intense. 

 

He is a very, very sexy man, a powerful lover who is intense in giving and receiving touch. I think it’s criminal that this beautiful man has been on the “no sex” shelf since the birth of his child – 15 years ago – with absolutely no touch for 6 years! 

 

I think it was criminal that I was on a similar shelf, also for about 6 years with no touch.

 

I know that he and I are far from alone. 

 

So, so, so many of my clients tell me that sex was great until the birth of their children since when they barely have any sex and little more touch. Men and women seem to lose the ability to connect with each other with touch once children are in the home. 

 

Women turn to the bottle of cold white that is always ready, waiting in the fridge and men turn to readily available porn or professionals.  

 

What happens in our relationships? 

 

They start out so sexy and full of excitement, we can’t keep our hands off each other, and can’t imagine a day when the magic might die, then one day we end up in the GP’s surgery being prescribed anti-depressants because our beloved can no longer be persuaded to touch us, no matter how hard we beg?! 

 

What is going on??

 

Life is stressful, I get that, and children as wonderful as they are, undoubtedly increase the stress load. But surely when life is stressful you would turn to your partner for comfort and nourishment? 

 

Why do we respond to stress by not leaning into each other but by pulling away from each other? That seems like a crazy act of self harm, but we all do it.

 

Why?

 

Here’s a novel idea for you. I will share some theory first and then a practical experience.

 

Under patriarchy, the sexy, caring feminine has been split in two. 

 

On the one hand we have the sexually available woman – the “whore” – represented by Mary Magdalene. 

 

On the other hand we have the virginal mother represented by The Virgin Mary. 

 

Whether you are a biological mother or not I believe that, in the West, you carry within you what I and others call the “Mother/Whore Split”. 

 

Furthermore, I believe we have projected onto us, by our men and wider society, a deeply held belief that women are either “Whores” (exciting, sexy, intoxicating, beautiful, dangerous, scorned, excluded members of the community) OR “Mothers” (loving, giving, nourishing, kind, upstanding, responsible, comfortable, included members of the community). Never both.

 

Men want to fuck the former and marry the latter.

 

I need to stress that this is a societal construct, i.e. a belief that is encultured into us from birth, for lifetime after lifetime. I do not believe this split is in any way “natural” and that it has only become to feel “normal” because so many of us carry this as a belief within us. 

 

For most of us the “Mother/Whore Split” is buried deep within our subconscious, i.e. below the level of conscious knowing. 

 

I probably wouldn’t be aware of mine had I not met the “Crazy Lady” in the village who invited me on a spiritual training course she was delivering. The course changed my life, no doubt about it, and the most powerful practice was the one in which I healed my “Mother/Whore Split.”

 

“Crazy Lady” explained how in our nervous systems we split off parts of ourselves that hold incompatible beliefs, creating different voices, even personalities, within us. This all happens within our subconscious and goes a long way towards explaining why you fail to get the things you desire most in life – a part of you is working against your goals or desires without you consciously knowing or understanding what is going on.

 

“Parts Integration” is a powerful tool to bring the differing parts together to help you move forward in life in one clear direction and we were going to learn how to do it. 

 

We were asked to think of a problem that was deeply affecting us in our lives. Where others chose things like “difficult boss” or “not enough money,”  I was quick to identify “lack of sex or any kind of touch in my marriage” as my number 1, most pressing problem, the one that, if I could solve, would make my life inordinately better. 

 

I had married a man, who when I was younger had had incredible sex with. We both had high sex drives and enjoyed a lot of truly beautiful times together. But conceiving children had completely destroyed our sex. 

 

Whilst pregnant I was hornier than ever (not uncommon apparently) I would have fucked anyone, but I was in a monogamous marriage and I had vowed, in a church, to be faithful to my husband. If he didn’t want sex with me then I had to accept I didn’t have sex. 

 

At first I thought my ballooning body was the problem, but even after the birth of our children our sex life never returned to what it had been before I had conceived. 

 

Because I wanted sex so badly I figured the problem was him. But I was on a training course that repeatedly reminded us that the only person you can change is yourself, so I was the problem that I took into the practice. 

 

I had never heard of the “Mother/Whore Split” before the practice. My fellow trainee (the coach) asked me to identify two opposing voices in me that had differing opinions on my presenting problem: “lack of sex or any kind of touch in my marriage.”

 

It was quite easy to identify sexually frustrated me – a woman who missed sexual intimacy with the man she loved, who missed the blissful joy of orgasm, who missed the sexy man she had married – the way he used to look at her, hold her and fuck her. This woman was sexually lascivious and as my coach asked me to connect with her and describe her words like slut, greedy, exciting, fun, happy, sexy, orgasmic and powerful flowed out of me. 

 

This part of me (the “Whore”) flicked her hair back, looked you straight in the eye, wore push up bras & thongs, and swayed her hips as she walked past you. She was young, free and single and oozed sex appeal.

 

The other me was quite dowdy by comparison. She was tired, responsible, kind, caring, constantly on the go meeting other people’s expectations and needs. She was the new me – wearing granny knickers from M&S, leggings, DMs, long flowing tops in muted colours, her uncut, uncoloured hair was pulled back into a pony tail. She wore lip salve instead of lipstick and smiled less, which saddened me. She was short tempered and very managing – she had a lot to manage. 

 

My “Mother” part, it turned out, was slightly sneering towards sex, “Who has time for that?” she would say.

 

The reason why coaching is such a powerful process is because the coach asks layer after layer of questions which brings up to the surface long buried beliefs, locked deep in the subconscious that you are completely unaware of. 

 

I found it remarkable that I had within me a part that was so sneering towards sex. I was desperate for sex! And yet I clearly had a part in my own nervous system that was pushing it away?!

 

No wonder my husband steered clear of me – who knew which “me” he was going to get?!

 

Having identified these two parts within me, I was then invited to bring the Whore part onto one palm and my Mother part onto the other. Please picture the scene, I was sitting on a straight backed chair, both feet on the floor, holding my arms out in front of me, shoulder width apart, palms facing upwards with the Whore on one palm, the Mother on the other.

 

For a while they both just sat there. Eyes closed, I was coached to connect with the feeling of each of them in my body, and then the essence of each of them sitting separately on my separated palms. 

 

Then, very slowly, I was guided to draw my palms together, to integrate the two separate parts into one integrated whole. All the time my coach was talking very, very quietly encouraging my hands to join so that my separate, un-aligned parts would integrate. 

 

Most people ask at this point, did it work?

 

Well I think you can answer that for yourself!

 

I am both an active mother and an active whore.

 

Allowing space for my Whore to be fully expressed has enabled me to be the Mother I wanted to be. 

 

I wanted to earn well so that I could provide my children with a good life and I wanted to be present for them. I wanted to be at the school gates when they finished school, I wanted to cook them evening meals, help them with their homework and get them to after school clubs. 

 

You can’t do all this if you join the corporate treadmill and work hours that suit an employer but not a family. 

 

And of course, I wanted lots and lots of beautiful sexual experiences.

 

Within months of doing this practice I had met The Boyfriend, a year later I met The Lover, was actively polyamorous and well on my way to becoming a professional whore. I have done hours and hours of spiritual training, for me this half hour practice is probably the one that changed my life the most.

 

Initially I thought the “Mother/Whore Split” was a uniquely “me” thing. Then I started noticing other people talking and writing about it and I realised that this is a societal thing, not a “me” thing.

 

Listen to women talking about sex and/or their husbands. It is incredible how quickly the excitement of the honeymoon period where the Whore is pre-eminent gives way to the sneering Mother who is “too busy for that sort of nonsense.” Much to their husband’s dismay, and I would argue, to their own physical, emotional and spiritual cost. 

 

Of course, there is much more going on for these women in their relationships and their lives which plays a role in their declining sexual interest in their men (not least your pants on the bedroom floor guys!!) but I have personal experience of the incredible power of integrating these two common personalities within one’s own nervous system.

 

And, of course, this split isn’t restricted to women. If you are a woman reading this, look for it within yourself. If you are a man reading these words, do the same. Examine your own beliefs around women and sexuality. 

 

Maybe begin with a provoking question like, “How do you feel about whores? Do you see them as exciting and enticing women and/or do you judge them as fallen women, victims of circumstance to be pitied and shamed?”

 

Go on to ask yourself, “Would you marry a whore?”

 

“How would you feel if your wife told you she wanted to leave her boring, badly paid 9 to 5 to set herself up as a whore?”

 

I have lost count of the number of times a man has told me that he once had incredible sex with a certain woman, but he didn’t marry her. In answer to my question, “Why not?” I am told something along the lines of, “She wasn’t the right kind of girl to marry, d’you know what I mean?” 

 

That there is the “Mother/Whore Split” in men! And it is really common.

 

I believe that many, many men carry the “Mother/Whore Split” within them. I hear it when they are slut shaming a woman for being openly sexual – they both desire the slut and judge her because “good” women i.e. “Mothers” are non-sexual, or at most only passively sexual.

 

Where this split in men takes on a whole new flavour is when they’ve paid to enjoy the Whore but found themselves nuzzling into the Mother. 

 

As someone who has integrated Mother and Whore within my nervous system I am, like the temple priestesses before me, able to be both incredibly sexual with my clients and give them tender, motherly love during my sessions. I even theorise that the reason why men crave to feel their cocks inside a woman so badly is because, at some level, a part of them wants to return to the safety and unconditional love of the womb. 

 

An integrated lover can give a man this. She can entice, beguile, arouse, seduce, excite and also care, nourish, comfort and love him.

 

If I were to set up a school for whores or a whore certification course (I think both are illegal in the UK) the first thing I would have every one of my trainees do is integrate their “Mother” and “Whore” parts.

 

A sexually integrated woman is far more certain and confident in her sexuality, in her body and in her life. How could you do this work if a part of you were judging you, sneering at you and shaming you for doing it? It would create a chaotic energy for both client and whore. 

 

The role of the whore is to heal, initiate and guide people from one broken, dysfunctional model of sex to another, kinder, more holistic, even sacred, model. Whores can’t heal in others what they haven’t healed in themselves. Modern day whores are only a fraction as powerful as the women who worked in the Temple of Horus but we have to start somewhere. 

 

For me the place to start is with integrating the Mother/Whore Split, I guess because that is where I started?

 

Before he left, I got what I wanted from my very sexy client – we spent quite a while with me on top of him in my favourite position – 69. By gripping the base of his cock with a circle of index finger and thumb I could hold his turn-on in the top two thirds of his shaft so my throat had to open wider and wider to take what felt like a very strong erection. At the other end he was feasting on me as powerfully as he had earlier – my body was singing with orgasm. 

 

When I couldn’t take any more and thought I needed a break, I rolled off him slightly, but then found that lying, heads on each other’s thighs was an even better position to pleasure each other. Thrusting our pelvises slightly we could fuck each other’s mouths. I felt like the cat that had got the cream!

 

Like I do almost every day, I deeply appreciated and celebrated my life and adventures as a whore. It is inconceivable to me now that I would do a “normal” job and not get to connect with such beautiful people in this beautiful way and make really good money by doing so!

 

At the end he showered, paid me and left. I showered, threw the used condom in the bin, went downstairs and spent the afternoon sitting in the garden writing this – until the kids all drifted home and we had a delicious family supper together as the heat of the day died down. At the end of the night I curled up in bed beside my delicious husband and, before we drifted into sleep, had more sex 🙂 

 

An integrated life is very, very, very good.

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