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The Penis – a Tool of Love or a Weapon of War?

It constantly amazes me how “struggle” and “battle” have been written into the patriarchal narrative. I sit in my garden and observe the level of harmony, collaboration and symbiosis there is all around me.

Scientists are catching up and are beginning to confirm what indigenous cultures – people who live on, and with, the land – have always told us and what whores always knew – the natural world is perfect, ancient, mysterious and magical.

There is much harmony for us to observe and learn from. We would do better to observe and learn, rather than seek to enforce our will over it.

But power over is an intrinsic part of patriarchy.

Elite power over everyone else.

Male power over women.

White power over non-whites.

Human power over the natural world.

Sitting on top of this pyramid of power, his ever present, judgemental eye watching over us, is the patriarchal God.

From the beginning he was a vengeful, stern, and strict parental figure. His “love” has always been conditional on our behaviour, his judgement of women has always been harsher than his judgement of men (just ask Eve).

But he was not the first deity to be worshipped and he knew it.

The Old Testament is a series of directives from God via his Levite priests to destroy the peoples, cultures and religions that came before him.

In the world before God, women had far more status and power. It was through women that communities worshipped Goddess. Thus, to destroy the peoples, cultures and religions of pre-God communities you needed to destroy the power of women.

To do this God committed what this whore considers to be the greatest crime against humanity, he turned the penis from a tool of love, into a weapon of war.

In the God approved model of sex, as first practiced by Adam, men were instructed that the correct and only appropriate way to have sex is in the man-on-top “missionary” position.

This position gives men enough pleasure to come, but rarely gives women much, if any, pleasure. Adam’s first wife, Lilith, left him rather than suffer any more sex that didn’t include her pleasure.

She was right to leave him, devoid of pleasure, sex becomes a violation of a woman’s sacred space. Devoid of pleasure, penetration is experienced by the body (and I emphasise by the body i.e. the vagina) not much differently to rape.

But God went further, hell hath no fury like a patriarchal deity after complete ownership and control of ALL the land and ALL the energy from ALL the peoples living on the planet. “Raping” women nightly in miserable monogamous marriages (the kind detested by Goddess) wasn’t enough.

Rape was to be used as an act of war against the women of every community that did not surrender and submit to the new male God.

Recorded in page after page of frankly deranged writing in the Old Testament rape, in the cause of the new religion, was deemed a “good” thing which “God fearing” men did to prove their devotion and commitment to their new God.

If you think raping women was only part of the initial establishment of patriarchy, you’d be wrong. Rape using a penis or other device including, for example, hot metal rods (during the witch trials) has been used for thousands of years to punish, suppress and oppress women for being women.

Rape is as prevalent today as it ever was. Young women headed off to university are now advised on ways to avoid being raped by their male class mates as a routine part of their orientation days.

The most commonly used weapon of war in rape? Yes, you’ve guessed it, the penis. Specifically, an erect penis. Patriarchy succeeded in turning a tool of love into a weapon of war, one which has done immense harm to the collective feminine across centuries creating our, not surprising, love-hate-fear relationship with erections.

Women giggle at, sneer at, avoid looking at, fear, judge and even shame what was once unanimously seen by men and women as a “Shaft of Light”. The lingam (Sanskrit for shaft of light) or penis, has always had the potential to be a giver of profound bliss and joy, a means by which the vagina is lit up – activating and connecting the woman to deep stores of energy within her body by which she transcends the everyday, material reality to spend time dancing in the heavens.

It’s the same body part and yet with different information, and different intent, it can be used either to activate or to kill a woman’s power.

Just as a kitchen knife can be used to create delicious nourishing food or to inflict deep wounds and even death in another person’s body. It is not the knife, or the penis, that is dangerous. It is what the person wielding both knife and penis intends to do with them.

Devastatingly, boys raised in Judeo/Christian “civilisation” have been raised with patriarchal programming which means even when a man does not consciously intend to do harm with his penis, because of his ignorance, the patriarchal model of sex, exploitative porn and his own unacknowledged trauma (for example infant circumcision) he unwittingly shames, shuts down or violates a woman’s sexuality, and sadly, rape is a far, far more common experience for women than most men are willingly to acknowledge or admit.

And it doesn’t have to be this way!

This whore knows that when a man is reconnected to the divine love that he can channel through his lingam he is reconnected to the divine masculine power of giving. This is the miracle (i.e. a change in perception that changes everything) that we are ready for.

Because powerful, sovereign people are difficult to control, patriarchy purposefully disconnected men from their greatest power. The power of a man to give a woman deep, deep pleasure and to journey with her, and through her, to magical realms, lifting both of them out of, and beyond, their mundane, material existence is literally infinite.

The penis was not designed to harm women, it was designed, rather marvellously, to heal and love women.

From the base of the shaft all the way up to the tip of the glans are reflexology points that when gently pressured send healing energy to different parts of the man’s body. Not just any energy – sexual energy – the most potent, powerful, creatrix energy on the planet!

Rather perfectly our bodies are designed in harmony with each other: the vagina has corresponding points.

When a penis enters a pulsating, vibrating, alive vagina the penis activates her points passing energy from him to her and because she is throbbing with pre-orgasmic and orgasmic pleasure the supple walls of her vagina massage the length of his penis activating his points, sending her loving and healing energy into his body.

It’s magical and it’s perfect.

But, obviously denied to all humans, male and female, in the pleasure-free model of sexuality so beloved by patriarchy.

A fearful, shut down or resentful vagina will not be pulsating with pleasure. You may be able to push into her and pump until you empty your ball bag, but you have missed the entire magical point of sexual connection. The time spent in coitus, penis in vagina, is a sacred time of deep healing, deep connection and the opportunity to transcend the mortal realm.

Man-fearing feminists are right to reject a model of sex that causes harm to our bodies. They are right to erect boundaries and firmly voice their NO.

But I believe they are deeply misguided to reject men along with a harmful model of sex.

It is not men’s fault that they have been encultured into a brutal model of sexuality that looks and feels like rape for far too much of the time. It’s what we have all grown up with and what we are convinced is “normal”.

Feminists need our sexual power and pleasure as much as any other human on the planet. Without it we are little more than robots serving The Machine. A more empowered feminist movement reclaims sexual pleasure for women and guides men into the world of joyful bliss, deep healing and connection that awaits us all when we just shift our perception.

This, my loves, is the work of whores. The world desperately needs the miracle of whores working in every community teaching men and women the ancient, beautiful, deeply connected art of sexual pleasure. This ancient wisdom that flows through our bodies is the greatest hope humanity has of finding its way back to harmony and love.

I’ll finish with my favourite quote ever, it’s from the beautiful John Lennon:

“We live in a world where we have to hide to make love

While violence is practised in broad daylight.”

And I’ll invite you to ponder over what the world could be like if we no longer had to hide to make love.

Sexual Healing with Kali, The Destroyer of Ego & Lilith, The Witch Who Left Adam

“Sex work can’t be healing” said an angry woman on X. She expanded by telling me that my “rhetoric was wrong” and that it was ridiculous to claim that sex work can be a healing modality. On X I didn’t have space to explain that sex by its very nature is deeply healing and thus sex work, when done in the right way, can be amongst the most healing therapies in the world.

Obviously there are no scientific randomised control trials on sexual healing because there is no money for big pharma in discovering that whores are naturally incredibly powerful healers. So what can whores heal? At the moment I don’t know the full potential of sexual healing. But I feel it every week.

Let’s start there – with what I feel.

I feel bodies relax and reset. I feel men (and women) enjoying their physical, emotional and even spiritual selves. I feel them connect to something within, sometimes, many times, for the first time ever. We live in a world where many (if not most) men (and women) have felt shame for, and of, their sexuality. Leading us to shut down something that is ours by right – our innate sexual energy.

Sexual energy is our life force energy. Think about it, sexual energy creates life! It can be channeled and directed by us to create the lives that we desire. Being disconnected from our own life force energy disempowers us, leading us to hand over our sovereignty to those with more power than us.

I contend that loss of sovereignty is one of the main causes of dis-ease within our physical, mental, emotional and spiritual bodies. Thus, experiencing one’s sexual energy in an honouring, shame free environment is deeply, deeply healing.

I’d like to introduce two powerful and inspirational females to assist me in explaining the healing power of sex work.

The first is Kali, Hindu mother goddess, also goddess of death and rebirth, who is most often depicted as a fearsome female (the stuff of patriarchal male nightmares) often seated in a squatting position with her tongue sticking out wearing a necklace of skulls.

Kali is not the beautiful, sexually available pagan goddess imagined by Western artists. Kali is fearsome female power personified. And she is scary to look at! Her sticking out tongue represents the power of the female voice, which as most men will confirm, can crush an ego, inflated or otherwise, in seconds. Her necklace of skulls represents those crushed egos.

My second dame is Lilith, Adam’s first wife and dissatisfied lover who left him to allegedly spend eternity fucking the devil and eating babies for breakfast.

Lilith refused to fluff Adam’s rubbish love making. As legend has it he insisted on having sex “patriarchal style” man-on-top but this didn’t give her the genital stimulation that she needed to experience pleasure and orgasm, she tried to persuade him to vary the position, but Adam, being God’s chosen one, knew that the “correct way” of doing things was for him to be on top during their sex and if Lilith didn’t orgasm, well that wasn’t too important was it?

His sassy, sexy, bold, beautiful lover wanted to be creative and playful in the bedroom, but his fragile male ego said, NO. So she left him. And apparently has since spent eternity with the devil – who apparently is a much better lover – quelle surprise!!

Maybe Adam needed to meet Kali, because Kali’s necklace of skulls is to remind humans of the impermanence of ego. We are all trapped into believing our ego selves over our real selves, but it’s all an illusion.

Our ego selves are a painstaking construction of “self”. I like Pink Floyd’s metaphor of a wall – brick by brick your ego is constructed to separate you from every other human (or non human) being on the planet (and beyond) and also to keep you separated from your own true self – your inner essence, your soul, your divine spark.

In our highly material (and materialistic) age our egos are fed, watered and maintained by possessions, qualifications, labels, friendships, relationships, jobs, clubs, social media, our communities and so on. We are born free of ego (that’s why it is so easy to look into a newborn’s eyes and see infinite possibilities awaiting them) but from within minutes of our birth the world conspires (against us) to construct our egos.

Some babies suffer the barbarity of circumcision in their early hours – an unthinkable practice still common in much of the world. Its only purpose is as a crucial brick in the wall. How better to separate you from your inner spark than to prevent you from feeling that spark? But all babies are fed, clothed, named and held (or not) according to societal norms.

In the west, for example, no crying baby is ever put to a male nipple for comfort – the idea to most is appalling – yet throughout human history and in much of the world today this is a completely normal and beautiful way to calm, nourish, nurture and bond with an infant. Gabor Maté will tell you that the lack of physical body to body contact in western baby rearing practices underpins much chronic disease and neurological conditions later in life.

Maté points to the Inuit who carry a baby continuously for the first two years of life, importantly this role is shared by all members of the community, male and female, not left to an exhausted mother coping, isolated and alone, on her own.

But coldness and isolation are an intrinsic, I would argue essential, aspect of patriarchal control. And one of the many, many ways society creates your ego without you noticing.

Therapists and life coaches will tell you that one of the most common beliefs people carry about themselves which prevents them from living a heart connected life is, “I am not worthy.” This is an ego belief. The constructed self has learned to believe that they are unworthy of all that they yearn for – love, connection, belonging, security, safety.

Hasn’t patriarchy done a number on us all?!

Can you see how much easier it is to control people who believe they are not worthy of a life beyond the treadmill?

This is what makes Kali furious and what Lilith would not settle for.

My client today has an awful ego, and not in the way that you think when you read, “awful ego.” He is not “egotistical” – he doesn’t drive a flashy car and swagger around in look-at-me clothes.

On the contrary, his ego has entrapped him in a life of miserable grey. He is possibly the greyest man I have ever met. Mr Cellophane: dull, easy to ignore and utterly miserable. He will be tormented on his death bed when he reflects on his completely wasted life.

Well maybe not entirely. Somehow he found me and he books regular Ra (tie and tease) sessions which are perfect for him. Ra is my Kali-esque session. It’s the session to strip you of ego and allow, if only for a moment, your true self to shine. To the untrained eye it looks harsh, like Kali, but the blindfold, cuffs, crops, floggers and pin wheels are there not to literally strip away flesh, but to invite you into surrender and sensation.

Tantric sex is very much about sensation – about bringing your conscious awareness to sensation inside the body, not to label it as an emotional feeling, e.g. happy, sad, nervous, turned on, but as pure sensation, e.g. fizzy, warm, bubbly, throbbing, sharp, soft, gentle.

Sensation leads us to the experience of energy in our bodies and energy leads us out of the material (and materialistic) realm into the quantum realm and back towards our original essence or soul. This is the journey you take with Ra.

My clients are blindfolded on arrival, they don’t get to see me in my lingerie let alone naked until after they have come. For years I thought the blindfold just removed sight – the most over-used of our senses – so allowing space for the other senses: hearing, taste, smell and touch to become heightened. But a female client of mine introduced me to a whole new way of seeing the blindfold – as an interruption to ego.

Remember, your ego self is who society tells you that you are. Years of social programming says that you are THIS person with THIS set of beliefs and THESE characteristics. Your ego self separates you from your true self and never is this truer than in sex.

I introduced the blindfold to this female client during a yoni massage that I was coaching her lover to give her. To receive the massage she needed to lie spread eagle with her legs wrapped around her lover in full view of me – a virtual stranger. Even a whore might have qualms about this! So I suggested she wear a blindfold for her comfort. She loved it and thought about it for days afterwards. Eventually she messaged me to say, “I think it’s like holding your hands over your eyes as a child – if you can’t see them, they can’t see you, so you don’t have to feel the shame.”

Through the childish trick of wearing a blindfold my female client was freed from “being seen.” In the darkness she could let go of who she is meant to be (her ego self) and connect with her true, inner self – and the inner self loved the sensations she was receiving through her lover’s yoni massage.

Do you begin to understand the allure of gimp masks now?!

I’ve yet to use a gimp mask on any of my clients but in a Ra massage they are always blindfolded for the full duration of the session. They’re also tied – both wrists and both ankles – spread eagle on the bed, first lying on their fronts and then on their backs. It’s not about pain, it’s about sensation, and, I know how pleasurable pain can be, so I don’t hold back! I want to make their skin tingle so that when I’ve stopped flogging and spanking them and pour oil over their skin they feel the oil, followed by my hands, with heightened sensitivity.

I want to make their ears listen out for every movement I make, I want to activate that nervous anticipation that quickens the pulse and shortens the breath. It’s such a rapid activation of the body. The game they are invited to play with themselves is to receive it all. To take whatever I give them. To surrender to sensation – whatever it is. To submit to pleasure, all of it.

It’s dark and it’s wicked and it strips layers of ego from them. Freed from their pathetic, miserable, dull little egos these giant men emerge. Men who feel so big, so bold, so WORTHY.

Today’s client thanked me at the end, again, for being his “safe place.” He had been tied up, and hit really hard – I’d even slapped him on the arse cheek whilst my finger was deep inside him. I had really “punished” him today. Yet he feels safer with me than anywhere else. He feels able to be “himself.” He feels seen and understood and – my words – freed from his depressed and depressing ego existence.

Today he told me that our sessions had given him the confidence to change jobs. To move from a job that is slightly better paid into a position that is more in alignment with him and thus carries much less stress. He is beginning to make choices that are good for his soul rather than what’s expected of him by those who seek to maintain his ego.

Good whores don’t fluff male egos. Like Lilith we dare to lead our men into more mutually pleasurable, soul nourishing experiences. Like Kali we know that living a life on your terms, one that will free you of death bed regrets, means stripping yourself free of the limitations of ego as much as you possibly can.

We can’t re-grow foreskins, but we can blindfold you and flog your backside until it’s red raw and your body tingles in ways you’ve never previously experienced so that when you return to a shitty job you feel worthy enough to say, “Fuck this!”

Kali is smiling down at my client today – he is taking bold steps towards reclaiming what is left of his life to live it on his terms.

That is the power of sex.

“Good” sex takes you beneath ego so that you reconnect with your true self.

Separation from our true selves is, I believe, one of the greatest causes of dis-ease on the planet. Reconnected to your true self you are able to give yourself the love, the care, the acceptance that you need to live a healthy and nourished life, and you are guided to make life choices that are actually good for you.

The patriarchal model of sex pulls men and women away from “Good” sex. This infuriated Lilith who fled the scene.

Whores, a bit kinder than Lilith, devote themselves to showing you the way back.

So, I repeat the claim that I rather foolishly made to an angry woman on X, sex is the most potent healing power on the planet and thus whores, our sexual shamen, are the planet’s greatest healers.

Kali picture credit Raja Ravi Varma on Wikipedia

Lilith picture credit: Charles Chen on Unsplash

Spell Casting for Incredible Sex

“Dear Anabelle, thank you for an amazing time today. I loved every second of it. As requested, it was deliciously sensual and the journey was definitely exquisitely enjoyable.

There were a couple of firsts for me today. I have never been with someone who has squirted before, and I loved it! Also I have never licked an anal rose before, but judging by your reaction I will certainly be doing that again! As you said, it was sensuous, but also a bit taboo too, so surprisingly exciting!

I really do appreciate how you got me to admit to myself, and to you, that the voice in my head was stifling my enjoyment. Having realised that, I feel certain that that particular ghost has now been exorcised and I can just let myself enjoy sex much, much more.

Your website talks about Kama making people feel like a sex god making love to a sex goddess. I think that is absolutely right. You are a sex goddess and what we did today has made me feel distinctly sex godly! N xxxx”

I felt sure this was going to be an amazing Kama session the moment N touched me. His fingers on my naked skin were exquisite – really soft, feather like, gentle yet penetrating – it made me shiver with anticipation. This was a man who knew how to give the delicious pleasure of soft touch. I assumed, given that he’d booked a two hour Kama session, that it was also the sign of a highly confident lover who knew how to play a woman’s body with a beautiful combination of touches, contrasting feathery with sharp, light with intense, soft with pain. My body, which had felt a bit flat 5 minutes earlier when I opened the door, quivered, my cunt throbbed, my nipples hardened.

We undressed each other, me squatting in my Louboutins, taking his cock in my mouth, as I slipped off his trousers, socks and pants. Mirroring his touch of me moments before, I kept it light, only flicking my tongue over this frenulum and freshly exposed, glistening glans, allowing only the very tip of his cock to pass between my lips. I would honour his erotic approach to my body with an equally gentle and sensual approach to his.

It was a beautiful start to the session and I was feeling very happy that I was going to spend a full two hours with such a sophisticated lover. Lucky me I thought as I invited him to lie face down on the bed to give him the Musubi massage start that he had asked for.

It always turns me on to massage a man with my full body. I find ways to feed my nipples into his fingers and grind my cunt into his buttocks so that my energy is truly activated before I roll him over. It activated him too! When he rolled over it was with a magnificent erection. I so wanted to take him in my mouth and deep down my throat, but I held myself back, for a short while anyway, to kiss his mouth and glide my body over his, inviting more of his exquisite touch.

The energy between us was hot at this point. I expected his touch to become more demanding, stronger, insistent, probing. My nipples wanted to be bitten and pinched, my cunt wanted to be fingered and fucked, but his touch didn’t respond to the energy between us, instead he continued to touch my body with the same soft, feathery strokes.

What had felt amazingly erotic when he first arrived and our energies were cool, now felt incongruous and even irritating. I wanted to command him, to tell him plainly what he needed to do to please me, but a voice within me urged caution and gentleness – he was a client after all! His body picked up on my impatient, even critical energy and his cock began to soften underneath me. I was losing him and if I didn’t step very carefully I might not get him back. So continuing to glide my genitals over his, ignoring his softness, I gently asked him who polices his sex life.

“Umm, me and my partner I suppose” he replied, a bit startled.

“I meant in your head, who in your head is telling you what you can and can’t do with me right now?”

His eyes caught mine, he held my gaze and he held my body still. “I know exactly who it is – gosh, I hadn’t realised!”

“Who?”

“A woman, my ex-wife, we parted – not happily – years ago.”

As he spoke, putting into words the truth that his ex-wife had been highly critical of him and rejected him sexually, his cock began to harden underneath me. We weren’t moving at all, just talking, me asking very general, open questions and him talking, probably for the first time, about how his ex-wife had made him feel. His cock grew harder and harder as he spoke his truth.

“You’re quite the psychologist!” he laughed.

“I don’t think so – psychologists work with the mind, I work with the body. I’m a body-ologist! My intuition knew there was some kind of pain or shut down in your body. Besides, psychologists can’t use this,” I stroked his very firm erection, “To ascertain if you’re speaking your truth or not!” He laughed and I reached across to get a condom.

As we fucked I talked. I used words and our combined sexual energies to rewire beliefs he has carried since the ex-wife. I used the words “amazing” and “incredible” a lot. My cunt joined in. I felt her squeezing around him as she orgasmed, squirting her approval at his deep and powerful penetration. I don’t do this very often because I know the power of sexual energy and I’m mindful that you really need someone’s explicit permission before you go about re-wiring their beliefs. But I took his answers to my questions as permission and I knew that giving him updated and empowering beliefs about his sexuality would be of service to him.

It was my first coach who taught me the formula for a spell (words you say to get a desired outcome):

Intent + Energy

_________________ = Outcome

Time

You take your intent, you add energy and over time you will achieve your outcome. The clearer the intent and/or the greater the energy you put in, the shorter the period of time before you have your outcome.

I knew I was spell casting with N. I was using my understanding of energy, carefully choosing my words and mixing them in the original witches’ cauldron – my cunt. The alchemy created by the words and our sexual energy travelled from my cunt into his cock, my mouth into his ears and my heart into his heart. Powerful, magical healing shit! Sometimes I find it hard to believe that I know this stuff and that I am lucky enough to use my knowledge every day to heal different versions of the war in men.

Just as careless men harm women and ruin their sexual pleasure, so careless women harm men. I’ve lost count of the numbers of men who have told me similar stories to the one N told me. Women readers, please take a moment to reflect on how exposing and vulnerable the patriarchal model of sex is for men. With no more training or guidance than us, they are expected to:

Charm a woman to bed
Pleasure her through talk, caresses, soft lighting and music to remove her clothes
Get an erection at the right time (and have a big enough – but not too big – cock)
Deal with the condom out of sight
Penetrate and fuck her to orgasm before coming himself

Get any of this wrong and he risks being shouted at, criticised or worst of all laughed at. Most unforgivable is a woman then spilling the beans to her friends to deepen and widen his humiliation and shame. Through all the steps 1-5 the woman is allowed to be (even expected to be in the patriarchal model) a completely passive, even lifeless receiver of his efforts.

So, so many of my clients have encountered women who have deeply hurt them sexually and many of these wounded men are married to the women who hurt them. Beautiful, sensual, sensitive, erotic lovers are reduced to fearful, anxious, apologetic men who struggle to relax and enjoy themselves sexually, with any woman, ever again.

Until they find a proper whore.

Because yes, the women who do harm include “professionals” – women who take money for sex but aren’t professional by any standard, who lack any training, any intelligence or any empathy and end up hurting their paying clients just as much as girlfriends and wives do.

The world needs whores!!

Obviously a damaged, shut down, sexually unhappy man is more likely to get sick mentally and physically and more likely to do harm to the people in his life, because hurt people have the habit of hurting others. Conversely, happy, confident, sexually secure men are going to show up for the people in their lives in a far stronger, more loving way.

N went home with a massive smile on his face, Mrs N was going to have a much happier evening without ever knowing how or why. She doesn’t need to know – her husband is more relaxed, more loving, less needy, more secure. Because he found a whore who took the war, that the ex-wife had installed, out of him.

With the war removed we had a marvellous time! He pinched my nipples, making me squirt repeatedly, once whilst I was sitting on his face, filling his mouth with my amrita which we then shared in a passionate kiss. I travelled my wet mouth down to his cock, finally taking it deep in my throat as his fingers found my cunt and fucked me hard making me squirt over and over and over again. We fucked again and he felt amazing – filling my cunt with a strong, generous girth. And of course, whilst in the 69 position he tongued my anal rose which felt liberatingly taboo and naughty for him and just delicious for me.

He was a man reborn. In his words a “sex god” who confidently made sweet, sweet music with his goddess. Lying together at the end, sharing experiences and feeling into the afterglow in our bodies we talked about how well Beethoven writes “sex” – the perfect contrast between a gentle quiet note and then the explosion of a crescendo and then back to the still, calm peace of an occasional note.

That’s what sex with N felt like after we exorcised the ex-wife. It’s not that her voice has completely left him forever, it’s that he has a strongly wired counter narrative to choose. He’s now back in control of his sex life which is surely a fundamental human right?

Can tantra help with my sexual dysfunction

Connecting With The Heart Through a Prostate Massage

Yesterday was a Musubi massage, he orgasmed in perfect timing to the music playing in the room. I always use the same play list, in the same order, starting it 15 minutes before my client arrives so that as I move through the session, I am working with the same tunes that I know and love, for each distinct phase of my sessions. It appears that whilst I like variety in my men, I like familiarity in my music!

When you really know a piece of music you can predict the next note and your body moves both with the music and in anticipation of the music. I am sure dancers and singers feel this way – the music inhabits you and helps you transcend your limited, material, ego self to create a magical, ethereal experience for your client. Isn’t that what we all seek from live performance? A moment of pure magic when the performer seems “lost” in their performance? That’s how working with my playlist feels to me. I am transported by the music into a different realm from where I can reach out my hands and guide my clients to join me.

Oftentimes the music is timed perfectly for the moment I am in. I haven’t selected certain pieces for certain parts of the massage, rather the massage and I have grown with the playlist so that the music that most often accompanies a prostate massage is now completely perfect for the prostate massage. It’s a haunting piece with a beautiful voice that can feel deeply penetrating – and absolutely I time my penetration for that moment. I know when it’s coming and I know from my client’s body what is needed to prepare him for that moment of deep penetration, so I play with him, tease him, arouse him, soften him and reassure him as the music builds to THAT moment.

Yesterday my client was lying on his front. He had just received an incredibly erotic and sensual body to body massage in which he had shown me how aroused he already was – you know, bum pushing up towards my body and grinding into my pelvic mound as I glided over him – it’s a dead give away! I’d completed my final slide down his back, making sure that my nipples were the very last parts of my body to touch his – over his buttocks, then down between his thighs, hopefully connecting briefly with his balls. I was sitting, oil in hand, ready for the next stage of the massage – the prostate – surveying his body, when I noticed that he was lying with both palms facing upwards either side of his buttocks.

I like this because it means that as part of my reassurance for deep penetration, I can rest one of my breasts in one of his palms (usually the left breast in the left palm, leaving the right hand free for the main job). Everyone likes to feel held, especially when they are experiencing something very vulnerable. Lying on their fronts, denied access to my eyes (I have good reason for this) I find ways for the rest of my body to provide the kind, loving reassurance that a body needs to relax, surrender and open.

Prostate massage is many things. The prostate, or P spot, is the pleasure equivalent to the female G spot. It’s highly sensitive and a major erogenous zone. Obviously I don’t have personal embodied experience, but I have been told countless times that orgasm following a prostate massage is way more powerful than regular orgasm. You can massage the prostate internally using a finger or a toy or externally via the perineum. I always use my finger, craftily prepared in a thin, latex free glove whilst I am doing the hands free, body glide part of the back massage (clever huh?!)

A prostate massage is about pleasure, deep pleasure, but it’s also about healing and this is an important aspect to a whore – we are all about healing – healing the mind, body and soul through, and with, pleasure. This is one of the ways in which whores are different to prostitutes. A whore knows the healing power in her hands and body and uses both consciously, yes with pleasure, but always for healing.

A big part of the healing offered by a whore is opening up and re-connecting the heart to the rest of the body (especially the genitals) so that the client has a heart connected experience . It’s not uncommon for men (and women) to disconnect their heart (emotions and love) from their sexuality (their primal, life force energy) which leads to a distortion of sexuality for the individual, their partners and wider society. Sexual energy disconnected from love energy is obviously more prone to being predatory, toxic, exploitative and ultimately empty.

We ALL desire love. Our fundamental core needs as humans is to feel safe, to feel loved and to belong. Many of us spend a lifetime searching to be truly loved, believing that if/when we find the “right person” we will finally rest easy knowing that we are deeply and unconditionally loved. But here’s the shocking truth that will feel like a slap around the face if you are reading it for the first time – you can only receive love from another person to the same extent that you already have love for yourself.

Of course we receive validation from others loving us which helps us to learn how to love ourselves and the wise among us use love from another to re-wire the neural pathways and belief systems to grow an internal love for ourselves, but ultimately love is an inside job. Another’s love for us can assist us on our journey to self love but can never, ever, replace self love.

Whores understand this. We are deeply loving humans who understand how love works and we use sex to help our clients reconnect to and open their hearts so that they feel and connect to the love that they have for themselves.

We have a few tricks of the trade. One of which is the heart opening point in the palm of the hand. When you move your palm over your body or another’s, you are opening your heart to the experience. The recipient feels it. Whilst fingers feel lovely, if someone only uses fingers on your body it starts to feel irritating, your skin, your body, aches to feel the connection that only comes from the palm. I always massage the palm of my client’s hands at some point in the massage, usually whilst sitting astride him whilst he is lying face up so that we are connected gentital to genital. I will massage the hands, one at a time, activating the heart opening point in each, before placing his palms on my heart chakra in the centre of my chest, so that we share a heart and genital connected moment before I encourage him to move his hands over my breasts and the rest of my body if desired.

But on this occasion I saw his palms, facing upwards as he still lay facing downwards, as an invitation to do things a bit differently. My sense was that if I massaged his palms now, before the prostate massage, he would have a deeper, more heart connected experience. The music “allowed” me time to do so, so I moved my hands from his buttocks up his back, towards his shoulders and then down his arms, swirling around his palms at the ends.

I spent time with each palm, intertwining my fingers in his like an established couple on an afternoon stroll, keeping my palms connected with his, pressing them into his, consciously activating his heart opening point. I was aware that to do this my body was over his, my breasts were hanging down, caressing his back in a not discomforting way! That’s the joy of a tantric massage, you use every moment in the massage to connect, to tease, to arouse, to give, whilst also denying. It’s the perfect antidote to society’s smash and grab approach to the penis-centric sex model of sex. It’s slow and erotic and, at times, completely surprising.

Heart points duly opened, I returned to his anus. The music was building nicely to the powerful, penetrating moment. I squirted lube onto my fingers, sat astride his left leg, bent my body low over his and placed my index finger firmly but gently in the middle of his anal rose, at the entrance to his anus. I paused, waiting for his body to respond to my “knock on the door”, his sphincter muscle opened a fraction, I slid in that fraction and politely waited. Then as the music built to a crescendo and with his hand clasping my left breast, he relaxed and opened. My finger slid in with ease and I directed it straight to his prostate as the voice filled the room with deep, penetrating intensity. I held my finger still on that first spot for what was probably only a few seconds, but felt like a profound age, before I began to gently stroke his prostate.

If I’m going to finger fuck an anus I do it at the end of the prostate massage, sometimes adding 1, 2, 3 more fingers as my client opens for me. Sometimes they pull their knees up underneath them, pulling their anus further apart for me, sometimes they push back onto my fingers so hard I fear my wrist might get damaged. But yesterday’s client was about gentle, quiet surrender- being held through a deeply vulnerable moment, with my body, my breath, my energy and every ounce of my conscious awareness. I held my client, penetrating him deeply, but so, so gently until I felt his anal muscles inviting me to leave.

As I removed my right hand I swiftly removed the glove and completed the prostate massage by running the side of my hand down between his buttocks ahead of mounting him so that the energy that had made its way from his root chakra (prostate) up my finger and through my body to my cunt could be returned to him. I very often “fuck” my clients at the end of a prostate massage. It’s their energy and I feel that it’s important to return it to them. Yesterday the flow of energy between his buttocks and my cunt was particularly intense, I could feel his energy penetrating deep inside my cunt making me squirt with pleasure. No cocks, no fingers, but deep mutual penetration of my cunt and his anus. That’s the power of activating sexual energy!

Leaning forward to say, “Roll over” into my clients’ ears I am never surprised to hear them say, “God I’m turned on!” Often they’ll roll over and despite all of the energy that has been activated and that we have already shared, his cock will still be soft, not post ejaculation soft (though it’s fine when it is), but just still soft because the energy has been activated elsewhere. It always makes me smile with secret knowing when I see that my client is still soft, because, contrary to mainstream belief, it is fully possible for a man to be highly aroused, even orgasmic, and not have a hard on. When you take the attention away from the penis (which is rare in the patriarchal model of sex) you find that there is a whole male body to arouse. It is very common for me to fuck a client’s anus quite hard – to my client’s deep pleasure – and for his cock to stay soft.

Yesterday though, he was very erect. Too erect to give it too much stimulation too soon. A swift glide of my hands across the glands, down the shaft and around the balls told me he was a strong 7 or 8 and would move to a 9 quickly if I wasn’t careful.

I wanted to be careful. I wanted to extend his ecstasy. I wanted to expand his sexual energy further and move it to more of his body. I wanted to make every single cell in his body sing in delight and vibrate with pleasure. I wanted him to feel the light headed giddiness of a full bodied, champagne bubble, firework orgasm.

My favourite position when I flip clients over is legs astride him, genital to genital “sharing” the erection (if he has one) cupping his cock between the lips of my engorged labia. I love to pretend the erection is mine, to look down and see this beautiful, pulsating, glossy cock smiling back at me, to take it in my hands and stroke it with pride in the way I imagine a man waking with a morning glory would. If the client isn’t “too” hard I can move my vulva up and down his shaft lubricating him with my juices. With his cock nestled between my cunt’s lips, I spent time massaging my client’s chest, swirling circles around each breast, moving my hands in figures of eight, fingering and tweaking his nipples to see how they responded all whilst grinding my hips so that his cock was gently pleasured by my cock.

Chest massaged, I spent some time gliding up and down his body. Planting feathery kisses on his face, kissing him full on the mouth and then breathing tantalisingly over his glans as I did so. I glided over this body like this, pressing my oily body into and along his to tease, arouse and activate until the music told me that it was time to prepare for the final stage of the session – the lingam massage. With one final, unhurried slide down the front of the body oil in hand I made my way to my seated position, cross legged, between his thighs, my feet slightly lifting his bum.

As I took his cock in my hands, I closed my eyes and leaned into the music. If music is important for the rest of the massage, it’s absolutely essential for the lingam massage. I use it to vary my strokes, to alter the tempo, and to bring my whole body to this final, worshipful stage of the massage. It would be too easy to tune out at this stage and just “wank” a client off. But my clients choose me to be better and to do different. Quite a few have been wanked off by professionals and partners – they come to me to be transported. I am a whore, not a prostitute or a wife. I exist to initiate my men into a completely different experience of themselves. And, frankly, I need music, incense, my bed, candlelight – my intentional space – to do this.

There are books that outline some of the many strokes that you can give a lingam in this stage of the massage and I followed one (listed below) religiously in my early days of Anabelle. Now I just take the cock for a dance. I connect with the music, I connect with the flow of energy in the room (and beyond) and I move my hands up and down and around his shaft, flicking over his glans and frenulum, cupping and “sucking” his balls, rubbing the root and the perineum, stroking the anal rose and then swirling up his torso or down his legs to distribute the energy that I’m building.

I do time this section of my session. I like to play like this for 20 minutes, but other than having a quick look at the clock to double check, I’m generally able to feel the time and also, of course, I have my playlist. Yesterday the timing was perfect. I think I was so relaxed, so in tune with the music and he was so in tune with me that he came, shuddering in orgasm as the song reached its crescendo and then he lay there enjoying the after-waves as the music quietened to its eventual end.

As his energy subsided from explosive fireworks and shuddering body to deep stillness I quietly rubbed his sperm onto my breasts. I love this moment, the peace, the afterglow, the feeling of oxytocin flowing through your body, and of course the delicious stickiness of sperm – always so much more appreciated by my breasts than in a sad, floppy condom wrapped in a tissue and thrown in the bin.

“WOW!” Was his first word.

Followed by, “No words!” I smiled in gratitude and knowing and we began to talk about the prostate massage.

My question wouldn’t have been, “Are you OK?” (I could feel he was far better than “OK”!) or “Was that good for you?” (How could he say anything other than “Yes”?!) It would have been something more open ended and inviting of information, like, “What was your experience?”

In response he said, “That was so deep – I mean really deep – I felt you were cradling my heart.”

BOOM!!!! The heart-sex connection!! My finger had been caressing his prostate and yet he had felt it in the centre of his chest.

As he said these words my hand was resting, as it always does at the close of a lingam massage, on his lake of peace, his heart chakra, in the centre of his chest.

Mission accomplished.

A good result for a whore.

What’s in a name? Why I am Proud to Call Myself a Whore

What do I call myself when I am working? Well, I used to call myself a prostitute but for reasons I will explain in this piece I stopped using this word for me and my work. So, sex worker? No, I’m not keen on that either – it’s bland, boring and completely devoid of any of the eroticism, sensuality and magic of my work. The words “sex” and “work” aren’t a happy pairing, they’re just not!

I understand that many sex workers prefer to use this term to stress that they are working and, I guess, to claim much needed validation and respect for their role, but by using the word “work” I think they’re associating themselves with the very slavery that we have freed ourselves from which then strips them of any respect they could have earned.

By calling themselves sex workers, people in my profession are saying, “Hey, we’re working too. We earn this money. We deserve respect from our clients, the law and society at large.” I don’t disagree with any of those sentiments, but I do disagree with the words “sex work” because, let’s face it, society doesn’t respect office workers a whole lot more than sex workers. They are cogs in the machine, selling their soul as well as their precious time on this earth for a pay packet that increasingly fails to cover even the basics. Who wants to become a “sex worker” to then feel like an “office worker”?!!

As Tinkerbell said to The Boyfriend, “Poor you.” No-one wants to become a cog in the machine. Not one parent looks into their new born’s eyes and declares, “I want you to devote your life to pushing paper around in a cubicle on the 3rd floor of a non-descript building at the end of a long, hot train journey with only lunch at Pret a Manger to look forward to?” No-one does that! We desire for our children to become sports stars, dancers, writers, painters, musicians, gardeners, poets, actors, travellers, adventurers. Then we send them to school where they are brainwashed into aspiring to get an expensive degree that qualifies them for a lifetime in a “bullshit job” to pay off their debt.

“Work” is an insidious word and idea. No other animal on earth works as hard as humans do to survive. Our closest relative, the bonobo, devote as much time to play, sex and bonding as they do to the “work” of feeding. Can you begin to see why you’re all so ill and depressed? It is literally in-humane to devote so much of one’s life to the daily grind. Yet almost all of us do. Sacrificing our desires, dreams, relationships, time with our families – pushing them down and away from us – denying our soul’s purpose, which is surely to love, to connect, to experience and to create?

It takes years of conditioning to convince humans that work is good for them. Look at how hard every teacher in every school in every country in our modern world is cajoling, bribing and threatening young people into being “good workers.” Work is what the 1% want from us so that they don’t have to work! Work is literally for morons, sorry, that’s a bit harsh, but if “work” were so good for us, why do those at the top do so little of it? My father once said to my son, “The secret of life is to find a way to make other people make you money.” That’s patriarchal capitalism in a nutshell.

Of course, as a woman, I have a double cynicism around the word, “work.” It’s something post 1980s that I am expected to leave the home to do to earn a small amount of money that may pay off my mortgage just before I die (increasingly a dream). I’m also expected to work, unseen and completely free of charge when I get back home. Capitalism is built on the UNPAID labour of women. Patriarchy says to men, “Listen, you have a rotten deal, you work hard for little pay or ownership, but we’ll create women from your spare rib, to obediently serve you in your home so that at least there you can feel like a king.”

Modern men want to move beyond this. They want to be feminists and support their women to succeed on their terms, but they also find a nice beer and a soft sofa so darn comfortable at the end of a long day in the office. The more hard core capitalism is in a society (easily measured by wealth inequality) the MORE hours of unpaid work women are doing in the home (“Why Women have Better Sex Under Socialism”). Double whammy for women in the 2020s!

“A clean house is the sign of a wasted life” is a quote I picked up, ironically from a tea towel. It’s so true. How many books have gone unwritten because the female writer has been hoovering, dusting or scrubbing someone else’s shit from the ceramic loo bowl? How many paintings have remained unpainted, or songs unsung because women continue to work, on average, an additional 3 hours a day more than the men in their lives when they get back home from “work”?

Work was created by the elite to do a number of things to perpetuate a system to the benefit of the elite:

To make them rich.
To keep you too busy to develop the skills by which you could make yourself rich.
To deny you any pleasure, especially sexual pleasure because sexually empowered people are, um, powerful.

I am a deeply empowered, powerful, magical healer. I use my body and my sexual energy to bring immense pleasure and joy to my clients. I reconnect them with their own magical, sexual inner essence. I am part coach, part therapist, part lover. I consider time with my clients to be incredibly special, intimate and sacred. I do not consider it to be “work”. Just as in the early days of teaching I did not consider my job to be “work”.

I consider myself incredibly lucky to have had the inner courage and the external support to get myself off the treadmill and create a niche for myself doing something I feel deeply passionate about. In my utopia everyone has their base needs met so that they have the freedom to create from their soul. I always remind myself that Leonardo da Vinci never went to school proving Pink Floyd right when they sing, “We don’t need no education”. We just need the time and the space to nourish our Goddess given talents to create wealth for ourselves and the rest of society.

Meanwhile, back in the real world, in which 99% of us are enslaved by, and for, the 1% I return to words and their definitions. Which brings me to “prostitute” and why I no longer call myself a prostitute. It’s mainly because of the spiritual teacher and writer Caroline Myss who works with human archetypes. One of the core archetypes, which we all have within us, is “The Prostitute.” I am going to quote much of Caroline Myss directly because it has been so foundational to my world view:

“The prostitute archetype engages lessons in the sale or negotiation of one’s integrity or spirit due to fears of physical survival or for financial gain.

We prostitute ourselves when we sell our bodies, or minds, for money, or when we compromise our morals and ethics for financial gain. That may include remaining in a marriage or job that endangers our self respect for reasons of financial security.

The prostitute activates the aspects of the unconscious that are related to seduction and control and that render you capable of buying a controlling interest in another person as you are of selling your own power.

Once you become aware of its presence within you, the prostitute encircles you with a strong vibrational field that says, ‘Not for sale’.

The core learning of the prostitute is that self esteem and self respect make you impervious to selling out.”

Caroline Myss suggest 3 key questions to ask yourself when considering the prostitute archetype within yourself:

“Have I ever sold out to people or organisations that I didn’t truly believe in?
“Have I ever remained in a situation that offered me financial protection because of a desire for financial security?
“Have I ever felt myself being pulled into a circumstance that would require me to sell out my ethics then found myself strong enough to say, ‘No’?”

Having read that and knowing what you know of me, do you think I’m a prostitute?

I was a prostitute when I was too scared to leave my first marriage. I had children to provide for and I didn’t want them to suffer as I sought to save myself. I stayed for years beyond “happy” due to my fears around our physical survival.

I would have been a prostitute if I had stayed in teaching as the education system moved away from my ethics and pedagogy. Other teachers are clearly comfortable bullying young children for a good set of data, I’m not and I would have been prostituting myself if I had stayed – selling my soul for a measly pay cheque in the mistaken belief that it was a secure job.

Ask yourself right now, are you doing that? Are you a prostitute?

The proudest thing I can say about myself is that I’m not, I did not stay in an unhappy marriage for financial security, nor did I compromise my morals by taking him to “the cleaners” in our settlement. Neither did I stay in a job that made me feel sick to the depths of my soul for some professional, ego driven, vanity. I chose to find a way to do what makes my soul sing.

And that was to become a whore.

Thousands of years before Man invented God and the pair of them encoded patriarchy, humans lived in collaborative, Goddess worshipping societies (“When God was a Woman”.) For these societies the earth – her fertility and her cycles, both daily and seasonal were deeply sacred. Women, whose own cycles closely mirror those of the earth were revered as being closer to Goddess.

Some women were especially revered and recognised as portals to The Divine. Temple whores (houri in Persian, horae in Ancient Greek) dispensed a combination of mother-love, tenderness, comfort, mystical enlightenment and sex in the temples – places devoted to worshipping Goddess in the way she, the sexy, saucy mamma, commanded. Children were raised, not in nuclear families (based around the concept of ownership), but by whole communities. Goddess abhorred monogamy and men neither owned their wives nor their children.

For thousands of years, human sexuality was used to consciously elevate humans out from their mundane, material existence, up into the quantum realm, the heavens, from their prosaic everyday reality into a magical space where they could create literally anything – the pyramids people!! It was through whores that Man accessed The Divine. It was with whores, through their bodies and their sacred practices, that men found healing and had “the war taken out of them.” Whores were essential to spiritual practice in pre-patriarchal, pagan societies.

For patriarchy to seize control of the people and their lands they had to conquer and destroy the already existing, successful, well functioning and equal societies. To do this, the early Church (and other Abrahamic religions) first had to defeat the whores. They didn’t want to put a complete stop to the whore’s sex practices (they were men after all); it was just crucial to “amputate its spiritual meaning” (Barbara Walker). The destruction took centuries. And the work is ongoing.

Horae were stripped from their sacred position in the temples and relegated to “hora houses” where they would work to stop men from buggering each other. Ironically, the earnings made from the first hora house were used to found convents where nuns would devote their lives in non-sexual prayer to the new patriarchal God. The very word “whore”, once the word used to describe a woman of high regard and sacred calling, became one of the most reviled words, saved for moments of deep anger and vitriol, matched only in venom by that other misused ancient and sacred word, “cunt”. Whore, is a word dripping in shame, disparagement, disgust and even fear.

I first felt the calling as an inner knowing, a spark inside that refused to be extinguished. As a young woman, lacking a sacred journey to initiate me into my powers, I handled my sexual energy a bit messily, and felt deeply shamed by the society I was coming of age in. Well meaning friends suggested I was “looking for love but settling for sex” and that I should work with a therapist to fix me. Maybe I was looking to be loved, but I also genuinely just wanted the sex. Sex has always made me feel amazing in my body. Not because I feel loved for a brief moment in time, but because my body is super sensitive, and has always felt deliciously fizzy and alive both during sex and for hours afterwards. Other people like running or an intense gym session for the hormonal download. I choose sex.

Gabor Maté points out that, “Highly sensitive people used to be our shaman, now they are shamed.” Sexual shamen are the most shamed of all. Painters are not shamed for creating art, singers are not shamed for creating music, (most) dancers are not shamed for interpreting a piece of music with their bodies. But sexual shamen, whores, those of us who were born with the gift of heightened sexuality in the cells of our being are reviled, disparaged, condescended and deeply shamed.

There were so many stepping stones on my journey to where I am now, a happy whore writing these words. The first that I remember was reading Elizabeth Gilbert’s “Eat, Pray, Love”. I was very lonely and depressed when I read it – a trapped mum with young children, living in a community of strangers, lost in a loveless and worse, sexless, marriage. I devoured her words about finding yourself through travel and I so ached to have her opportunity to escape from the completely dysfunctional life I had created for myself and to learn new skills so that I could reinvent myself and create a life I wanted to live.

Obviously I couldn’t follow in her footsteps – I had young children who I had brought into the world, I had a duty to care for them. Whatever journey I took to rediscover the “real” me – the soul buried beneath layer upon layer of socially conditioned and miserable ego – would have to take place during school hours and from my home in rural England. Initially that felt quite limiting then two magical things happened in the same year.

The first was meeting the village “crazy lady” (“Mad as a box of frogs that one!” they’d say) and learning that she was in fact the most phenomenal spiritual coach and mentor. The second was, I hate to say it, Facebook. Discovering the latter after meeting the former meant that my Facebook feed in those early days was filled with spiritual teachers and alternative thinkers – whores and witches online – who guided me through the most profound transformation. It was amazing. Until greed ruined Facebook, it was the University of Life if you wanted it to be.

You didn’t have to go to an ashram in India to learn meditation, you could do so in your own bedroom. Even better, you didn’t have to travel anywhere to reconnect your sexuality with the sacred. What Elizabeth Gilbert travelled the globe for, I found ways to experience alone, in my bedroom. I have since been on a real live, in-the-flesh, tantric retreat and desire to do more – I can assure you that it was the best money I have ever invested in myself (and my business) but back in 2011 when I desperately needed to create a new way of living for myself I didn’t need to leave my home.

Essentially when you embark on reconnecting your sexuality with sacredness you are reclaiming something that the churchmen ripped from us centuries ago. They needed to destroy our temples, torture us, rape us, burn our books, burn us, disconnect us from our ancient plant, body and magic knowledge, but we’re still here. We are the daughters of the witches and whores that you did not burn. The knowledge lives on in our bodies until the day we meet the person who gives us the permission and the words to understand and know our own deep inner wisdom.

That’s why I call myself a whore.

I am incredibly proud, in every cell of my being, to belong to this powerful lineage of sacred shaman. To have the power in my hands, and my cunt, to heal, to connect, to initiate, to please, to bring joy and deep pleasure. I am so lucky to have learned how to use my insatiable sexuality for good rather than prostituting myself to earn the money to pay for a therapist to help me feel less than I truly am. Becoming a whore was my route out of Caroline Myss’ definition of prostitution. Yours may be pottery, gardening, knitting or cooking. I’m not saying that every woman is a whore, I’m just saying that some of us genuinely are.

Human beings across the planet are trapped working in miserable jobs, living in miserable relationships, scrolling through their miserable damned lives. Being disconnected from their innate creatrix, saucy, sassy, sexual energy is not working for them. Goddess knew that humans needed to channel, not repress, their sexual energy to thrive. God knew the same. So to gain control and ensure that we could not thrive, he ordered that our sexuality be repressed.

Repressed energy will twist and contort itself, but it will be expressed. The energy that could be building communities and expanding our consciousness is used instead to terrorise, manipulate and control. I would argue that, distorted, the energy of creation becomes the energy of destruction.

We need a r-evol-ution (read the 4 letters in italics backwards). Love, including sexual love, is humanity’s greatest individual and collective power. If we were to truly harness our love for ourselves, our planet and each other we would save ourselves from what appears to be almost assured destruction.

Humanity needs its shaman to guide it back to love.

Humanity needs its whores.

Tag Archive for: Sexual healing

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Connecting With The Heart Through a Prostate Massage

What’s in a name? Why I am Proud to Call Myself a Whore

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