So I'm up in Sex Shop 365's Adult Bog Awards- kind of awesome!

I've been running this blog now since 2008, and this is the first contest I've been entered into. Squee! The more notice I get on this blog, the better situated I am to run classes, write books, and do documentaries- stuff I find important, since in the UK sex worker voices are silenced, particularly if they're also feminist, queer voices.

Help me have a voice!

If you like this blog- the politics, the personal, the sex advice and reviews, please vote for Purrversatility?

I've been asked before what it's like having a pretty personal blog connected to my sex work site. My twitter, facebook, and blog are all pretty easy to find when you stumble across my professional side, and the intermingling of the personal and professional is sometimes complicated.

While for the most part I enjoy my work, I don't always, and sometimes that makes its way into my blog- not only that, but there's certain tropes about femdom and sex work that I actively challenge here. Add to that being a queer sex worker, and a sex worker in a relationship! It's interesting how my clients have reacted to having read my blog- a couple of them have said they felt like they knew me particularly well because they had followed my writing, while some felt a little awkward! So I suspect it affects my work sometimes, since I'm not writing smut, posting photos of my ass and being generally a fantasy girl.

I personally really like having a blog that expresses my authentic self- my politics, my emotions, my relationships- mainly because I can't imagine trying to fake it. I am the same person in my blog that I am in real life- what you see is what you get. The assumption is that you have to play up a certain kind of femme, assume a certain kind of privilege, to be a sex worker. But you know what? I don't think that's always true.

A good example is this- recently, I posted a blog entry about how angry straight, white, cissexual male privilege made me, and how I find myself more and more attracted to women (though causation does not necessarily equal correlation, but anyway). My friends were supportive of my headspace, which I expected- what I didn't expect was a really touching email from a prospective client. He offered to get me anything I liked as a tribute- I laughingly suggested an e-stim unit. He wrote back, having ordered it for me, and said "have fun shocking some sense into those straight boys". That's pretty fucking rad, if you ask me. It's not the first time either- I've had quite a few clients who seek me out because I'm not just some tits, but a complete person. And that says to me that I can be exactly who I am- not some primped up version, but converse sneakers and all.


I don't live a glamorous life- I live in a room with a cool couple in East London. I take public transit, not black cabs. I wear jeans and sneakers and often very little makeup. I have a loud mouth, I care a lot about politics, and I'm one tough ex-gutterpunk.  


And you know what? It's really, really awesome when my clients know all that and come to see me- not in spite of it, but because of it. It's not easy, whatever you job, to make it something you love and not compromise your ethics. But it is possible. And I'd rather be poor and feel good, that I don't have to follow or encourage racist, homophobic, sexist, or other fantasies that are oppressive, than make lots of money and lose my soul. 

I wrote earlier this week about my anger around this whole Porn WikiLeaks debacle. After reading a lot of articles in the news (most of them wrong, so I won't link to them) and MayMay's excellent post on Porn WikiLeaks, I revisited the site to see what had happened- had STI information been published yet or no.

What did I find?

This on one performer's page:

Shot her big mouth off to Porn Wiki Leaks with the usual e-legal threats on April 7, 2011. This caused the usual protocol to be followed - The performer not getting their information taken down and their wiki becoming more robust with all of the embarrassing things that they have done in their career. Folks, when you reason with Porn Wiki Leaks in a respectful manner, they will hear you out and that is your best chance (If any) of getting your wiki cleaned up of any personal information. But when you come at Porn Wiki Leaks with threats, it is all over for you and you will never have information removed especially when you hide behind your "lawyer's" skirt. Threatening Porn Wiki Leaks is like sitting in A-1 sauce and mooning an angry pitbull. You just don't do it unless you want to deal with the consequences.

I want to save this because this is a prime example of how sex workers are treated like second class citizens.

And I am more pissed off than ever now. Because you know what this guy has basically said? "Yeah, I abused you, so shut your pretty mouth and be a good girl and maybe it won't happen again". When people who have been outed by this site threaten legal action against Porn Wikileaks, their response is to dig for more "information" on that person and post that too. Notice how he says "if you reason with us in a respectful manner, that's your best chance for getting your page cleaned up"? Yep, that's blackmail.

I can't wait to see this guy get bitchslapped- and when he does, I hope it's good and hard in honor of the many "pornographic whores", "Hookers", and "gays" you've made unsafe with your racist, sexist, homophobic, sex negative tantrums.

For excellent information and advice on how to perform in porn while reducing these kinds of dangers (and they'll still exist, mind, so don't kid yourself) read Furrygirl's blog on the subject.

Ok, I'm going to warn you.

This is a rant, an exploration, possibly an epiphany.

Now that you've been warned, I shall begin.

Today I got a text from a "bi" guy looking to see if I wanted a guy to work with. No, I really don't- I have a guy, first off, and a stranger sending a text instead of an email? Not a good start. So I said no. He asked who I was as he had apparently spammed lots of people with this, so I told him. Then he started asking if I wanted to get together (this is a classic thing guys do, btw, try to get a free session by claiming they're a sex worker too). I said no, not really, because I play with guys professionally, women personally.

Note: This is, of course, a simplification- I have a male partner, but other than that playing with men is a work thing and I'm kind of unsure if I'd pursue a relationship with a cisguy in the future. Women and trans people are the people I flirt with and desire, more and more each day. More on that later.

He's like "oh, so ur a lesbo?" I kind of did the text version of a shrug and said yeah sure. He didn't stop and leave me alone, btw, oh no! Instead he started to tell me all the fantasies he had about what he wanted to do to me (or at me is perhaps more accurate).

When I didn't respond, he texted more and more (things like "I can't wait to fuck your ass!" and "what size are your tits again?") until I said "Enough. Stop texting me please." Then he went off about how I was a "lesbo whore" (unable to resist, I said, "yeah, I am, and you're an entitled misogynistic asswipe, but are we exchanging insults here or facts?"). The thing that made me really laugh was "u miss out bigtime u yank lesbo".

I'm "missing out"? On what exactly? Misogyny? Dickish behaviour? The attitude that as a woman (esp as an "easy woman" i.e. sex worker) I must have no limits or boundaries but be open to any guy that comes along?

Even more amusingly, he texted me about an hour later just saying hi. Like I wouldn't know who he was. What a douchebag.

This interaction came at an interesting time for me, however. I've realized that, as much as I can appreciate the male form, I am incredibly rarely attracted to straight cismen anymore. Like, never. And queer cismen... well, still pretty rarely. I've changed quite a bit in 10 years- from 17 year old bisexual serial monogamist submissive female, to 22 year old poly pansexual pomosexual switch to 27 year old nonmonogamous queer femme top. So my desire for women, trans people, queers, and non-gender-conforming men was always there, but I still ended up sleeping with and dating straight cismen a lot. Dyke-identified queerness was a tendency I was getting closer and closer to, so it's not out of nowhere, but I'm not sure if it's a nature thing, or a nurture thing- that the more I interact with men, the less I desire them, outside of work.

Why is it different when I'm working? I suspect it's because the rules and boundaries are simple, there- it's therapeutic in nature, most of the work I do, and very infrequently penis-focused- and because the clients I have are respectful of me, and of my identity. My clients are quite intellectual, generally, and appreciate my queerness and my femme-ness without trying to sculpt it to fit their molds of femininity or female desire. I get asked a lot what I enjoy in bed, when I'm at work, while with men outside of work I rarely get asked what I want or need (again, there are exceptions to this, like the boy, who often asks me)- I often feel like their wants and needs are projected on me, instead, and I can go along with it or not, and very often I feel like I attract people who need caring for, and, well, it's exhausting. While the women and non-cismen in my life need care, they are also aware and able to give care equally, and/or able to express the boundaries of the care they can offer.

None of this is absolute, of course- there are always exceptions, and I'm quite lucky to know a few cismen who do not fit this, most of them queer, though some not. But my head doesn't turn for straight cismen anymore, while it does a bit more for queer cismen, and a lot more for transmen and women of various gender expressions.

Now, I've always been primarily attracted to women, but often had primary relationships with men. I've noticed that shifting I would not doubt for a second that part of this is because of the amount of frustration I've had with male privilege in the past few weeks- not just this text, but the guy who grabbed my ass while walking to a bus stop while the boy walked a few paces ahead, and the guy on the bus who nudged and poked me until I took out my headphones to wearily pay attention to him. I am angry about these behaviours, very angry. And furthermore, I'm angry that I've had some feedback when I've complained that it's not entitlement or privilege, but just poor manners, or just guys wanting attention.

When I'm off the clock, I am not here to entertain you. I am not here to pet your head and cater to your masculine desires on your schedule. I am not here to be pretty for you, or sexually available to you, and I don't owe you shit. I'm a sex worker. If you want to have that kind of attention from me, you can book a session and we'll negotiate terms. Maybe that's what angers me so much- the lack of communication, of negotiation, of boundaries. The lack of personal space. The assumption that as a woman it is somehow my place to be objectified and projected upon.

No.

Sorry. I gaze back, and if I don't like what I see I'll tell you to shove off.

So, yeah. I think maybe this guy unwittingly created an epiphany. Maybe I am, actually, a lesbo whore. Or a queer femme dyke whore, but you get the point. And seriously? I'm not going to take this shit quietly anymore.

Sister Creampie takes confessions

If you've seen me on Facebook, or at Kinky Salon, or Gay Pride, or Artwank, or at Chantilly Lace, you're probably aware I like being a klown.

I like being a klown a whole lot, actually.

And I figured maybe it was about time I talked a little about how, and why, I got into this whole Sex Klown thing.

It started years ago with a lover I had who had a really weird fetish (like many of my personal explorations). Anyway, he was hot, and a really fun, playful Dom, and so I figured it was worth it to try out his big kink and see for myself if there was anything in it for me.

So I asked about his big secret.

Creampie's First Night Out

When he pulled out a beautifully made, black and white Pierrot outfit, I realized I might be in a little over my head. But I try very hard to be the GGG girlfriend, and so I indulged in the unicycle, the juggling, the inflatable dildo "balloon", and the whiteface... and, well. It wasn't so bad.

In fact, it was kind of awesome. Having been Goth, it wasn't too much of a hop skip and jump to clownface, after all. And there was something about it I found really interesting- the sex, for example, immediately became more ridiculous and silly, simply because we were in whiteface, smudging it around. And clown sex interacted so well with other kinks- floggings with a rubber chicken, or sploshing with custard pies, or ballgags made of juggling balls all added a novelty to the kink I was used to. Playfulness in sex, especially kinky sex, was and is a huge turn on for me, especially if you can keep me guessing as to what might happen next.

Vegas, baby

Even so, I wasn't entirely convinced by it. I figured it was something I did with him, and wouldn't pick up on my own really. And in spite of being a big fan of other whitefacers like the Porn Klown Posse or the Sisters of Perpetual Indulgence, I never really felt like I was of them. I didn't know why, for the longest time. Then it struck me.

In spite of being a loudmouthed instigator, I've never really considered myself a performer in the intentional sense of the word. I mean, I got the idea of performing gender, and played up femme for sure, but that was a mild, everyday performance, nothing like getting on stage or interacting with a heckling public. As much as I admired the quick wit of British humour, I didn't have faith in my own ability to be clever spur of the moment.

But then I started going to things like Gay Pride in whiteface. And going to Las Vegas with my girlfriend, on NYE, both of us in full clowning moods. And suddenly I realized that just creating a clown persona was a performance, and that interacting with people as that persona felt not only natural but incredibly fun.

Success!

Then I started doing storytelling at Bawdy Storytelling in San Francisco, and I realized I COULD perform, I could ad-lib, and people would actually laugh!

And so Faggette was born, for political rallies and marches, for lightening up really dark, angry situations. I had already been doing similar things just as myself marching at rallies in ridiculous outfits with signs meant to make people laugh as well as think.

I must now happily note that the photo you see here was at the anti "Walk for Life" rally in SF, and is listed with other photos on a right wing site with this warning:


And how about the radical images of the most radical members of the left that ZombieTime.com has been able to capture and document over the years. Here are just a few of Zombie's most disturbing pictures (WARNING: These pictures contain nudity, explicit language and disturbing messages!) 

But the whiteface added a new, ridiculous level to the work I wanted to do. Faggette is a clown in the tradition of the Court Jester:

The fool's status was one of privilege within a royal or noble household. His folly could be regarded as the raving of a madman but was often deemed to be divinely inspired.

Faggette, Killer Clown Domme?

This role for me was certainly in part inspired by fellow Fools Professor Violet and Polly Pandemonium in San Francisco who run the original Kinky Salon. By playing the Clown, I was more free to tell uncomfortable truths through satire and parody, something I found far more enjoyable. And I was always attracted to the Fool card in the tarot- a spirit in search of experience.

And that was all great.

But I wanted more.

Mainly, I felt myself really constrained by how serious my sexyfuntimes were getting. Every time I went to a kinky party, I felt surrounded by people in uniforms, stilettos and stern faces. "Sex is supposed to be fun" is something I say a lot, to myself and others, and while it WAS fun, in a way, it also felt really... well, cliche, and boring. And I was sick of wearing red and black.

So I tried taking Faggette to parties. And frankly I think some people were terrified. Other people were really confused. Partially that was because clown sex is still kind of in the closet (or would it be tiny car?) and partially it was because I realized that my energy as Faggette wasn't quite right. A political clown, sure, a sharp-tongued clown definitely, but a clown that had sex in public? Probably not.

Brief stint as a crap, talkative mime

So I thought long and hard about my sex klown persona. Why the sudden change from clown to klown? Well, thanks in part to the Porn Klown Posse, I became aware of the idea of klown being used for subversive klowning, particularly in the area of deviant sexuality. As you all read my blog, youknow I'm a giant dirty pervert. Therefore, my new persona was definitely a klown with a k.

I wasn't sure what name to go with, though. I still wanted to be Faggette, but almost by nature she was a rainbow clown, if perhaps a bit less "pretty" and more crazy. Then, I was watching some porn late at night when I hit on it-

Creampie.

Creampie the Klown.

Because, of course, there's the whole tradition of clowns and pieing, but also because "Creampie the Klown" sounded, as I say, like either a name, or a suggestion, wink wink. And thus was Creampie the Klown born, in a sweaty haze post-orgasm after watching a couple of clips from PornHub. Ta-da!

Creampie at Artwank

But then I realized that Creampie's easy morals and entertaining way of educating people could be put to good use in other ways. And I started lecturing in greasepaint- first at Noisebridge's 5 Minutes of Fame with cohorts Heart-On (my Vegas buddy) and Bugger (the boy) on the variety within clown sex, and then I did a lecture at Artwank on sex, fun, and how porn reflects our attitudes about the intersection between those two things.

And people fucking LOVED Creampie.

So, in my quest to help people take "what it is that we do" less seriously, while also using my position as a social commenter and performer to draw attention to some of the hypocrisy and absurdity, Creampie was born.

She's still in development, her makeup especially, though she is at heart a black and white klown with the occasional red highlights and her loving chicken "Chokey" at her side. But she's getting there.

It's getting to the point where she might need her own Twitter stream- people keep asking her out to parties and texting me to send messages along. I might end up having a personality crisis.

But Sister Creampie is spreading the Good Word of Klown Lovin' and klown irreverence, and it's a mission worth having.

I watched as my twitter feed filled with anxiety on April Fool's Day- someone had apparently put up a website devoted to outing people who had been to the AIM clinic:

If you have ever been AIM (Adult Industry Medical Foundation) tested for any reason, whether or not you are a sex worker, porn performer or “porn star” your personal and private information has been published publicly at so-called “Porn Wikileaks” (pornwikileaks.com). That website is, in fact, a copy of Wikileaks with the word “porn” added in its place. The database exploit contains information belonging to over 15,000 people.

The person or persons behind “Porn Wikileaks” has published stage names, real names associated with any stage names, addresses and other private information with the clear intent to do harm.

Their stated motivation is, “To get the gays out of straight porn and illegal gay pimps that have ruined porn and shut it down making condoms mandatory by the government now. The fag loving has got to stop. California is full of gay Mexicans and now they can even marry which is so wrong.”

As of this posting, there is a new section on the site called “Category:High Risk HIV: To get put in this section you are either gay or you fuck fags.” This section lists people in the database who are straight, gay male and especially queer or transsexual.
-Violet Blue, About the “Porn Wikileaks” and AIM’s Database “Leak”

I thought it might be a joke, until I started asking and discovered that no, this not only was a thing, but it had been brewing for a while. Unfortunately, no. Violet Blue's article gives some advice from Miss Maggie Mayhem on what to do if your name is on that list and how to get some support. It also debunks some of the myths going around in the media- for example:

Home addresses are *NOT* kept in the AIM database. Many “Porn Wikileaks” entries contain not just names, but also addresses, family information, copies of state ID’s, and Google maps images of their homes. This information has been sought out separately and appears to be personally vindictive in nature.

and

There are portions of the PornWikiLeaks website that hint at a potential release of HIV and STI status. At this point in time, no information about STI or HIV status has been released despite rumors in the media to the contrary. Nevertheless, it is patently obvious that the person behind this is not operating in a reasonable and rational manner and there are hints that the website is interested in releasing this kind of medical information. 

I can't begin to say how angry this makes me. And as I said before: fuck this scarlet letter bullshit.

It saddens me that we live in a world that is so keen on outing people for their sexual practices. From Oscar Wilde to McCarthyism to chasing around Abby Lee to this, there is just this constant fascination and inability to leave other people alone, particularly as it pertains to sexuality. And I just don't get how it's ok for people to treat sex workers as if they're less than human:

It isn't just that these performers are being outed; they're potentially being put in serious danger. Kane says it's inevitable that "bad apples will come out of the woodwork." Performer Lorelei Lee (who last year motioned to have her real name withheld from a federal obscenity trial out of concerns for her safety) told me by email, "The combination of volatile public reactions to sex work and an audience perception of performers as more accessible and/or less 'real' than other women makes us a target for hateful rhetoric, harassment, and too frequently for real violence," Lee says. She calls it "an ugly and inhumane act." Debates about the ethics and morality of the sex industry are rarely simple, but I suspect that is at least one argument most people can stand behind.
-Salon, The twisted world of Porn WikiLeaks

I'm even more angered that the wording on the site is so obviously racist, homophobic, and sex negative. I can't wait for them to get outed and for the courts to smack them down. I really don't know what possessed them to invade people's privacy to such an extent- I mean, it seems like it's fueled by a self-righteousness, especially as the guy accused of being one behind it has the only somewhat flattering entry:

"Donny Long is the last hetero man willing to stand up [sic] the Gay Mafia destroying porn. He is retired in the porn business in California because he sold his business but still tells the truth about the fag crossovers destroying straight porn as we know it."
-The Daily Beast, The Person Behind the Porn Wikileaks Website

I don't have much to say on this particular issue except to extend my sympathies and anger to the friends I have who are upset because of this asshole. I hope it gets sorted out and that whoever is behind this shit gets what they sorely deserve.

Also, definitely check out FurryGirl's blog on this topic- she also covers 2257 laws and privacy in porn, so good to look at if you think you might every go into the industry.


If you're worried you might be affected by this leak check out this database created by an ally, and view the README file first.

Trigger warning- explicit discussion of sexual assault.


I was reading Mollena's most recent entry in her excellent and often thought provoking blog. This entry is about violated consent, in this case in a BDSM setting. It was an important, if sad, eye opener:

I blamed myself for “letting” someone violate one of my strongest boundaries. And I sat on this alone and in reflexive revulsion, because clearly I was too stupid, weak and foolish to handle myself like a responsible adult.And because I had so much shame around this, because I was so afraid that others would look at me and think “What a fucking idiot. What kind of dummy lets something like them happen to them?” I didn’t tell anyone for months. Then it began to eat me alive, woke me up at night, freaked me out.I finally told several people close to me, And then a few more. And no one told me I was stupid. In fact, to my dismay, my story was common. Standard. Typical.
And that is horrifying. THAT is shameful.
So I am taking a deep breath and telling you today. Because? Consent COUNTS. And anyone can be taken advantage of. Anyone. And you aren’t stupid, you aren’t helpless, if someone pushes through your boundaries.

-The Perverted Negress, Consent [Violated] 

This was slightly triggering, because yeah. It is common. Read the comments and see how common it is, and wonder, like I do, that it's so infrequently talked about.

It happened to me, too. I had already tried the sex work thing and enjoyed it, but also realized I needed some time before I felt on top of my own sexuality. I went to a nightclub with some friends, a Goth club that had a little dungeon area. I met a guy there- tall, slender, long hair. He danced with me and I felt so pretty, desirable, sexy even. I was still somewhat awkward, having read endlessly about sexuality but not had much in the way of practice. Still, I knew the usual protocol, safecalls and safewords. I had taken self defense classes. I knew how to take care of myself.

Or at least I did if the attack was obvious. I was still hopelessly unguarded emotionally and didn't realize- at the time I identified as submissive, and while I had read a lot on how to protect yourself as a submissive, I began to trust him. Why wouldn't I? He drove me home. We exchanged numbers and AIM accounts, and spent days chatting. We met up again, and then again- I always made sure I had a safecall, just in case. We seemed to click, and I was so excited to have met a dominant who was as willing to dive into the darkness as I was.

Until the fourth date. That's when things changed, and got ugly. It was also the first time I didn't have a safecall. I trusted him. We had had several dates and they went fine, so why bother anymore, right?

It was a mistake I'm still reeling from today, years and many lifestyle changes later. I still shy away from submission, and it very likely was enough of a trigger to make me too wary to ever submit to a man again.

To make it simple- he ignored my safeword. And he violated my body, and my trust.

But none of that was the worst part, when all's said and done. Rape is terrible, and scary, and isolating.

The worst part was the way he threw a towel at me, so dismissively. The way he spoke to me the next day, telling me if I had been a proper slave I would've submitted to him. And how much I wanted to be that slave! I believed him. I kept quiet about it. I blamed myself, not only for not stopping him, but worse, for WANTING TO STOP HIM IN THE FIRST PLACE. Because I wanted to be pleasing. I wanted to be the best submissive I could be, and on some level, despite everything I had read, I couldn't shake the feeling I had disappointed my Dom. And to talk to anyone about it would be to admit that I had failed. I was certain it was my fault, and for my own good, and this sort of thing was ok.

Thank god for the internet, is all I have to say. Because hopefully, Mollena's post will stir many voices coming forward- it already has, and maybe it will continue to. This sort of thing is too common. And it can fuck someone up for life. Having desires that can so easily be turned against you, and trying to pick up the broken pieces while still knowing you have those desires, in spite of it all. It's awful, sometimes. It's shitty that it's so common, and it's something that needs to be addressed, out in the open.

It took me a long time to forgive myself. I'm still walking that path- it doesn't come up often, but when it does, it's still raw.

It didn't make me a Domme. I struggled for a while with the desire to be submissive and my terror of ever giving myself over to someone again. I'm sure it's part of why I struggle to let go, why I need that grip on everything. Realizing I preferred being a Domme was something that had come and gone my whole life, and something I've been settling into for a few years now. It also didn't drive me into sex work. In fact, I couldn't stand being a sex worker until my trauma had been healed fairly significantly. On some level I feel the work I do is part of my own healing- teaching negotiation, asking for what you want, exploring in safe ways, helping other people who have trauma histories. And it's sad I have to make a point of both those things, but I know that people like a tidy story with tidy explanations as to why people like the things they like.

Thank you, Mollena, for coming out and giving me the courage to come out too.

First of all, the boy owes me a new bottle of this Hathor Aphrodisia stuff we got from the awesome folks at Babeland.

Hear that, mister?

Cause we used an awful lot of it when we had our adventure with the Joque harness and the Mark dildo. Because this is a fucking fantastic lube. I have so many reasons why, but let's start at the beginning.

It's all natural. And vegan. That's a good start. No irritating scents, no glycerin, no parabens- so it's a great lubricant if you're sensitive to any of the above. It's made by a mother/daughter team who really care about sexual well-being, organic ingredients, and sustainable agriculture. Ecosexual awesomeness!

It's not a super thick lube, but also not super thin- we found it to be equally good for vaginal penetration as it was for anal. It has a slight bitter taste, though, so you might not want to use it if you're hankering for oral sex after. There's not really any scent to speak of, and it's water based, so condom and silicone safe. It has horny goat weed in it, which is said to be an aphrodisiac- I can't speak on whether or not it works independently, as I had gotten to fuck the boy's ass and so was pretty wet when we were reviewing it. It's a hard life, truly.

I love this lube. It's quickly become one of my favourites, though the flip top bottle is a little annoying. The annoyance is by far outweighed by the fact that it's not irritating to even the most sensitive play partner's bits, and the fact that it lasts forever while still being water based. The only reason we used so much of it was because the boy was nervous and wanted a lube enema basically- a little bit will go a long way (which is good, as it's kind of pricey). I've tried a good number of lubes now and this one is tops.

Try Hathor Aprodisia out for yourself at Babeland! Only a couple days left to take advantage of their March Madness offer, too.

Creampie the Klown isn't typically a religious sort.

But irreverence suits her just fine.

So when I got the opportunity to be Creampie for the Erotic Awards Semifinals, Chantilly Lace, I was kinda thrilled. Cause what would I be manning? A confessional, of course!

Time for Creampie to get into the habit. Hee!

And what better toy to review (and take on an outing!) than the Divine Interventions Jackhammer Jesus?

If you haven't seen the website, do. There's lots of hilarious (and functional) toys, mostly religiously-themed but not all- the Baby Jesus buttplug is amazing, as is the Grim Reaper and Buddha dildoes. But it had to be Jackhammer Jesus I got, because I knew he'd be perfect for my Holy Moly Confessional.

So, the Jackhammer Jesus. It is a fantastic sex toy for using on a lover, I have to say. I particularly love this one because it's got a relatively normal penetrative end, and the cross bit makes it easy to hold onto for fucking some poor sinner as they cry out "oh jesus christ oh god oh god oh god" or something to that effect. Plus, this one glows in the dark. And it's made of silicone, so even while you're making yourself filthy with impure thoughts and deeds, at least you can pop Jesus in the top rack of the dishwasher for easy cleanup.

It has an insertable length of 7 1/2″, with a 1 3/4 diameter- probably better for a whore than a virgin. It wouldn't be a proper crucifix without Jesus hanging out on the top,and I found his positioning to be interesting- not uncomfortable, but not likely to stimulate a clit either. The head on this thing is quite bulbous, which I love for inserting then pulling out for that feeling of being filled. And it's firm enough for g-spot stimulation- the ridges near the end of the cock are great for texture.


I haven't tried using this on the boy yet, but I think that the firmness of the silicone and the handle on the Jackhammer Jesus will make it a good bet for some 
Nun/choir boy roleplay. Of course, use holy water lubes, none of that satanic silicone for this toy, or it'll melt before your eyes. 

The other thing I like about this is that it's a bit heavy. The way it's shaped and the heaviness means you can also use it as an impact toy- a flexible but heavy smack. Since I like toys that fulfill multiple purposes, that was definitely a bonus! 


If you need something in your basket to get you through Easter with your family, I would recommend this for sure.


I'll post some photos of Jackhammer Jesus's first Holy Moly Outing after the performance on Wednesday, so stay tuned! Who knows what sort of dirty stuff he'll get up to..? 


Check out Divine Interventions for other awesome sex toys made by a really rad guy in my other hearthome, Oakland! And thanks so much for giving me a chance to review this toy.