I don’t know how to ask this without sounding judgemental, but I hope you take it as a serious question, not an attack. We all agree that rape is horrible and I’m glad that there’s a campaign to address how wrong society’s mentality is about it. Yet you have said you have rape fantasies. I know it’s a “fantasy” in an environment of trust and consent, but why would you, being so outspoken about this issue, fantasize with something as rape? I’m just trying to understand the logic behind it.



So what you’re basically telling me is I’m a hypocrite for being outspoken about rape when, in fact, I fantasize about and engage in consensual nonconsent. What I love about messages like this is you’re really not trying to get the logic behind it at all, because people far more articulate and established than I have certainly written quite a bit on the subject. What you’re trying to do is either make me feel guilty or corner me into a “gotcha” to try to take away my credibility. Or you’re trying to reveal some underlying Daddy issue or make me admit whether or not I’ve been raped so you can pathologize me. 

Let me start by saying that we live in a society where some of our most admired characters on television and in movies are drug lords, murderers and criminals. I highly doubt you would ever message someone who enjoyed The Godfather but who thought murder was unacceptable with this sort of message. I highly doubt you would accuse a teacher who would report statutory rape in a heartbeat but teaches Romeo and Juliet of being a hypocrite.

I like the term lived messiness. I am aware of my sexuality, I can problematize it, but I’m not going to crucify myself for it. Saying a feminist is a bad feminist for enjoying something is pretty damn anti-feminist.

It’s funny that you say “I know it’s a ‘fantasy’ in an environment of trust and consent” and still ask this question. Because, once again, you’re not really even asking a question here. If you acknowledge that I am behaving in an environment of trust an consent, how can you even call it rape? What I do in the privacy of my bedroom is so completely divorced from the act of rape it isn’t even funny. I don’t even call it a rape fantasy anymore, I call it consensual non-consent. 

Rape is not a sexual act as much as it is an act of violence, power and control. Why am I so outspoken about this issue? Because it’s wrong and it’s horrible and it’s PREVENTABLE and it’s happened to entirely too many people.

Consensual non-consent is something that I do with a partner that I trust and respect, who reciprocates those feelings. While rape is an act that attempts to rid the body of autonomy, I feel that consensual non-consent only confirms my autonomy over my body by allowing me to grant my partner the privilege of being rough with it. (And on the subject of roughness? I love it. I love the adrenaline.) While rape is an act of betrayal, consensual non-consent is an act of trust. And while rape is about misinformed entitlement, consensual non-consent is about giving someone the privilege to something. 

So, I could sit here and castigate myself and call myself a contradiction. Which is kind of exactly what the patriarchy wants me to do. Or I could continue to fight for the destruction of rape culture and the patriarchy while understanding the lived messiness of my sex life. My libido works a certain way, and I’m not going to suddenly drop this important cause just because I like my sex a little rough.

Oh, and by the way? “I don’t know how to ask this without sounding judgmental” falls under the same category of phrases like “I’m not trying to be racist/sexist/rude but…” 


It’s hard to enjoy fantasies about the objectification and possession of women when you know what happened yesterday in Isla Vista, and honestly, it fucking should be.

The man who murdered six people there did so because his culture had taught him that he was entitled to the bodies of women. When they weren’t offered to him, he believed he was justified in killing them. This is what the worthless garbage receptacles who talk about “men’s rights” teach and propagate, but they’re just a particularly violent boil on the underlying infection. The world we live in is sick, and it kills women.

I know that what I write here is fantasy. You know it too. But if we claim to hold ourselves to a high standard of informed consent, we have a responsibility to deal with it when the rhetoric of our fantasy veers uncomfortably close to real life.

I’m talking to (cis, het) men who run porn blogs and engage with male-dominant kink in particular: this week, and in fact all weeks, you should be listening to and amplifying the voices of women who are speaking up about the fear, assault and violence they’ve had to deal with. You should be conscious that the use of women’s bodies for your pleasure and validation—even in pictures, even in text—is a political act with consequences, and that you have work to do to balance that act against what you actually believe.

No matter how clean we try to keep our hands, we are neck-deep in polluted water. The world is constructed of patriarchy and reinforced by violence. None of us really gets the choice to disengage from that, but the least, the very least we can do is try to bring it to light.



If you consider yourself an MRA, please unfollow me now.

If you think the “friendzone” is a legitimate thing, please unfollow me now.

If you think that that murderer’s actions are in any way validated by what the women around him did or didn’t do, please unfollow me now.

If you can look at what happened and honestly tell yourself you agree with the same things he agreed with, I want nothing to do with you. Please unfollow me.


“I knew it was a bad idea to get HBO hooked up down here.”

Fantasy of the Minute



After watching A Dangerous Method, I started thinking about whether or not psychological/sexual studies were still being done by psychoanalysts. I really doubt it, but wouldn’t it be wonderful…

A six month study in which the subject must live on campus, constant surveillance, and hours of stimulation every day. Let’s say the purpose of this experiment is to monitor the mental reaction to teasing and orgasm denial. Perhaps one of the tests would be for the subject to evaluate the attractiveness of a list of men/women before the procedure begins. Then at the end of the six months, show her the same list and see if her opinion is different.

The subject would be free to leave the campus at any time, but a chastity belt MUST be worn. Of course, the subject would be compensated for her time, which would be great for me to have time to work on any writing projects.

Because of the implications of the subject developing an emotional connection with the psychologist or staff member, I suggest all pleasure items be mechanical and unable to penetrate a vagina. Perhaps a staff member would be able to restrain the subject, but physical contact with the genitals should be avoided.

My own personal preference for this scenario would be the unexplained holes in the walls of the subjects quarters. Once three months of teasing and denial has passed, the holes are filled with anonymous cocks for only one hour per week. This time would be irregular, and as a result, the subject would feel less inclined to leave the campus for fear that she might miss that hour per week.

If you like the stuff I write about, you should definitely, definitely be following sintrigue.


Mornings at the Institute. Dr. Kelling poured hot water over the Chemex, waiting for the bloom to rise, while Dr. Jackson rolled her eyes at him and sipped the double shot she’d picked up at Starbucks on the way in. “All right, weekly assessments,” she said, tapping a few keys and bringing up a six-camera multiview on the screens above them. “Let’s do the ones in fully automated treatment first. Case file… uh, 877? Hannah.”

Kelling swiped idly down his tablet, scanning the highlights of her case. “Right. Twenty-one, admitted back in January, initial response meters 2/7/6, A-cup. Under personal treatment for a month after intake, transitioned to partially automated care in February, encouraging results…” He squinted up at the screens. “She’s in a modified Jelenko rig, right?”

“Shows a surprising amount of tolerance for it, actually,” mused Jackson. “It reconfigures her stress position every few hours, but she’s been able to take sustained penetration and nipple stim at intensity level 7 for most of the day, most days.”


“One permitted every ten days, if she shows progress… huh, she’s a little overdue, actually.” Jackson leaned forward to a microphone and activated the remote address system. “The subject will identify herself.”

“S-subject 877!” Hannah just managed to choke out, whimpering as the machine continued to pound her cunt. “This subject is happy to be used as a wet hole! This subject is–nnngAAHH!” She arched and jerked as the nipple stimulators engaged their electrical mode. “Th-this subject is eager to comply with treatment! This subject is sorry for her l-loss of composuOH GOD!”

“What is the subject’s chief concern?”

“Service! Oh fuck, PLEASE allow this subject to be of service!”

Kelling made a wry face and leaned into the mic as well. “Is the subject just saying that because her needy cunt wants to come?”

“N-no! I mean–th-the subject means YES, doctor, her needy cunt wants to come, but NO doctor, she is telling the tru–”

Jackson cut the sound. “Eh, I don’t think she wants it bad enough. Let’s check in again next week. Maybe get somebody in to make sure the Jelenko is equipped to do DP as well.” She watched the screen a little longer, as Hannah babbled on in silence and Kelling tapped out some notes. “What was she originally admitted for, anyway?”

“Hmmm. Looks like… occasional attitude problems and possible attention deficit.”

Jackson let a little smile cross her face. “Well. I’d say she’s getting better all the time.”








I can think of a few evil uses for such an implant; what would you do? 😉 

Granted it’s for those who have difficulty with orgasms…but still…SO EVIL

Mmm… imagine if it were designed so you couldn’t cum without it.

Yeah. This. This thing. Yeah.

I can’t even begin to decide how I feel about it.

It’s not a remote control unless it has an off switch, now is it?


You don’t actually have to communicate voluntarily in any way for this assessment. In fact, your statements would be more likely to hinder the process. The goal is to derive directly from your bodily response the levels of stimulus at which you feel pleasure, at which pleasure starts to transition to pain, at which you achieve edge, and at which you are driven to orgasm regardless of preference. Even if you were able to do more than gasp and squeal, we trust the level of muscle tension and blood flow in your pussy more than your mouth.

That’s what the contact patches on your lower abdomen are for, you see: assessment of the tiniest change in reaction as our tech works you over. We can chart your growing arousal as we apply pressure and vibration, heat, cold, and pain. We can watch it spike when we control your breathing. We can see what it does to you when we chuckle at your helpless squirming, and which of our selection of degrading terms for you produce the strongest effect.

You’ll be glad to have completed the examination when it’s over, no matter how you may struggle while it’s in process. Trust us. With the plans we have for your next phase of treatment, knowing where to start stretching your limits will be helpful for all involved.