Educational Porn with Kenneth Play

A dear colleague has put together these fabulously instructive and slutty videos for folks looking to pleasure people with vulvas and vaginas. Kenneth Play has taken all of his sexy hacker science and figured out how to apply it very simply to learn how to incorporate some skill sets into your pleasure portfolio. I like Kenneth. Kenneth is a colleague and has also been a bodyworker of mine. It is a unique experience to work with someone who comes from a completely different process around arousal and bodies. We have had lots of juicy chats about bodies and pleasure and ethics and science. He has been a sought-after ‘side dish’ at Pamela Madsen’s Back to the Body retreats. He also has some real nice pics on his Instagram account (@kennethplay) if you’re looking to steam up your feed a little.

Check out Kenneth Play’s videos on:

Oral Sex



and of course, the Sex Hacker Bundle!

Surrogate Partner Therapy Training

Day 1: Our classroom is a plounge couch. The four of us sprawl while our generous and kind-hearted teacher imparts years of wisdom on us.

We take each other’s histories and only touch the surface of who we are, wishing we had more time.

We decorate our binders in stickers and eat popcorn while we watch a documentary. We learn the importance of calling ourselves “Surrogate Partners” not “Sex Surrogates” because it has very little to do with actual genital sex when it comes down to it (compared to the social, emotional, and intimate learning components).

The day ends and I call my partner back home and cry some more and do some things that need to get done, worrying about time and self-care amidst this intensive.

I go back downstairs to find dinner ready and everyone jubilantly drinking by a fire outside.

It is a very good group of humans.

Day 2: The simplicities and complexities of touch; how histories lie in our bodies and how to navigate trauma, fears, and shame within the surrogate partnership. How important it is to stay in your pleasure, otherwise this work will not work. I am in awe of the power of this process, the immense amount of love and presence that must come with it.

Day 3, 4 & 5: STC’s and contraception, anatomy & physiology. We recognize what relaxing feels like in the body and how to teach others to notice it.

We lightly drag our fingers around our partners faces for our own pleasure. It is to help them notice sensation and to model how to touch.

The next day we undress. A brave woman in her 60s runs our body image exercise. She is nervous but certain; she gives of herself generously and we are all captivated. Completely naked, we give the histories of our bodies.

We do more Touching For Our Pleasure and receive this Touch from others. In these exercises, we learn to feel touch that is not how we would touch. We learn to feel pleasure where we might not know to look.

The next day our relationships escalate. We are fully nude and fully body touching. The boundary between acquaintance and lover is crossed from long distances; but there is no insincerity, the relationship develops in the stages they have supplied. It is a dynamic with another person I have never had in my life and navigation is difficult and messy.

In between exercises we listen to stories. Stories upon stories upon stories. I am rapt with stories and what learning they contain. I begin to recognize that this work is for those who need it most. This work is not for easy pleasures or simple solutions. This work is for those who cannot touch. For those who it might take years to achieve a goal. For those whose pasts are dense and never knew how to move forward.

Day 6: Three men stare into the depths of my pussy to see a cervix up close and personal. It is my first time seeing my cervix, too. It looks, hysterically, like the head of a penis. I show my practice partner my vulva and go through the anatomy, the history, the feelings. I show him how I touch myself and invite him to explore. He does the same for me with his penis.

Day 7: It is a day off and we have a family outing to a nearby beach. It is overcast but warm. It is reflective but social. It is much needed and well used.

We live together, there is little separation. Each night we all eat together. Sometimes we watch a movie. I kind of feel like I’m on a Reality TV show but there are no cameras and the drama is pretty much non-existent; everyone is a lovely human.

Day 8: These weird little dynamics of our partnership are at pressure points. The time and place where we cross from the easy places of caressing, into the harder places of genital touch and arousal. We touch to touch, we touch for our pleasure, we touch for the other persons pleasure. A lot of feelings come up; feelings that we have to examine and dig into and “therapize” ourselves; the ultimate goal is to be as mindful and aware of our own reactions and the effect we are bringing to this dynamic. It is hard. It is reading my body, my brain, my feelings in ways I have never even considered. This person who is not chosen, this person who is not client, this person who is very close now all of a sudden. This is the work we seek out to do when we leave this training. How to be genuine, how to be in your pleasure, and be a sensitive partner.

Day 9: I realize that we have just undergone a very systematic training to be very good at sex – it is foreplay, but the concept of foreplay is silly, so it is sex, but with no penetration. We are allowed to create our own sessions with our partners based on everything we have done so far, the only rule is that we cannot go further. There are resistances, there are conversations, there are touches. This is a most fascinating and bizarre experience. My brain is expanding in directions I didn’t know existed.

Day 10: We discover and break down the concept of “mutuality” and what it means within the context of sensuality. Kissing, hand-holding, spooning, fucking; two-way street enjoyment. We do a simple exercise, dancing together with our eyes closed, and it is vulnerable and intimate and tentative; a wall is slowly coming down and I can choose to either lean into it to see how far it will fall, or try to cement it back together.

Day 11: Today we talk about Resistance and I learn something scary and vulnerable about myself. Resistance is an attempt to hold onto familiar patterns; the comfortable ways we have learned to relate to the world and your entire way of being is threatened. I sit out in the sun at lunch and feel my brain working out at high cardio rates and feel my heart becoming expansive; I feel light-headed, I feel nauseous. I see my own patterns: 9 times out of 10, sex has come before intimacy. And I see my own patterns of how intensely these two things are connected for me, and suddenly it dawns on me that I must practice intimacy before sex and that feels terrifying and completely nerve-racking. But if I want to do this work (and I really want to do this work), and if I want to be good at this work (and I really want to be good at this work), then I know what I need to practice.

Day 12: We practice Closure and we say Goodbye to each other. We acknowledge the relationship was always going to end, and consciously uncouple ourselves and review all that has happened, all we have done. “Don’t forget: this really happened. This was always supposed to end, but it was real, and it was meaningful.” I practice intimacy in ways that make my heart race, but the results will forever stay with me; it is the beginning.

“We will embark on a process of getting close.” 

Transformer from PicoBong

This thing is frickin’ magnificent.

  1. It’s “flexible, but firm form” with two wider vibrating ends —you can bend it into your desired shape and it will hold it. Firmly.
  2. I’ve been super into vibrations recently and boy oh boy is it a delightful feeling to feel vibes both inside your body and also outside your body.
  3. Because it holds so firmly you can use it as excellent leverage for self-penetration, with about 300% less of the work as using a dildo on yourself. My wrists have never been so care-free!
  4. Because it’s so thin and stays in place so well, no matter how much lube you have it is still easy to hold onto and nothing loses placement.
  5. Two-way fun!!
  6. You can use it as a cockring.
  7. I imagine it would be an excellent tool for people with physical disabilities — it’s long, strong and hard, you can bend it to attach it to a chair, and requires very minimal effort for a lot of movement for someone with limited mobility.
  8. It’s body safe, silicone, waterproof, rechargeable. All the good thing.

I had so much fun with this sucker — it’s called the “Transformer” (lolol but makes sense) and it’s from PicoBong (who I have never heard of but am now real into). Highly recommend. 10/10

#picobong #transformer #sextoys #selflove #masturbation #soloving #dildo #vibrator #masturbationmay #mindfulmasturbation #rabbit #cockring #clitstimulation #buttstuff #adulttoys #toyreview #sextoyreview #magic #sex #selflove #orgasm #gspot

Sex Object

*This post was inspired by Jessica Valenti’s ‘Sex Object’

I lie in bed with my partner one morning and we scroll through tumblr together… Thin, make-up drenched girls covered in cum. Their bodies filled with cocks. Bodiless penises with girls. Women that are acting like girls. Girls that are paid to act.

Peggy Orenstein writes “I used to say, when speaking publicly on college campuses or to groups of parents, that one could disentangle sexualization from sexuality by simply remembering that the first is foisted on girls from the outside, the other cultivated from within. I’m no longer sure it’s so simple.”

I watch nature documentaries with my partner, lying across his lap as he delicately and patiently paints images on my back with Non-Toxic markers he insisted I use instead of regular crayola’s. The male species on-screen is always trying to convince a female to mate with them. Later he will be loving and empathetic when I get pouty that he’s not in the mood for sex, a weird result of my vaguely anxious attachment style: If we don’t have sex then you don’t find me desirable, if I’m not desirable then I have no worth, and who would want to be with a partner that has no worth. I know it is illogical. It does not mean it isn’t there.

“[…] girls begun responding ‘to questions about how their bodies feel – questions about sexuality or arousal – by describing how they think they look. I have to remind them that looking good is not a feeling.’ Self-objectification has been associated with depression, reduced cognitive function, lower GPA, distorted body image, body monitoring, eating disorders, risky sexual behaviour, and reduced sexual pleasure.

In one study of eighth-graders, self-objectification accounted for half the differential in girls’ reports of depression and more than two-thirds of the variance in their self-esteem. Another study linked girls’ focus on appearance to heightened shame and anxiety about their bodies. A study of twelfth-graders connected self-objectification to more negative attitudes about sexuality, discomfort in talking about sex, and higher rates of sexual regret.

Self-objectification has also been correlated with lower political efficacy: the idea that you can have an impact in the public forum, that you can bring about change.”

His hands on the back of my neck make me melt into a pile of comfort, “you are mine” they say. And I wonder what part of me is turned on by his ownership; what is genuine and what is derived from cultural messages shoved down my throat ever since the first utterance of “you’ll never find a boyfriend if” – my entire personality and demeanour and habits based around my acquiring a heterosexual mate who finds me appealing.

We’re non-monogamous to a degree that doesn’t take up much extra energy. I see messages from other girls pop up on his phone about how they want to fuck him. I beat down the feelings that him wanting to fuck other people isn’t a commentary on how much he loves me or how good our sex is; I want to fuck other people, too, sometimes. I want to be able to fall in love with other people, too, sometimes.

Recalling one time years ago, when I was jealous and upset that a boy I was interested in wasn’t responding to my texts or giving me the attention I desired, I went to Guelph to consume too much alcohol with friends from high school.

“So she distracts herself with challenges. No longer any fun to kiss boys in bars, but boys behind bars; a sense of the unobtainable obtained.”

My finger gave the ‘come-hither’ signal to one of the cooks behind the burrito bar at 1 or 2 AM and I grabbed him by the collar, pulling our faces together for a soppy and tonguey kiss. “You made him all flustered.” As if this sexual assault did either of us any good.

A few days ago, a good friend and I are talking on a bench. It is rainy and dreary. She is wearing last nights makeup and I haven’t brushed my teeth yet. We are talking about men and how we are stuck in this loop of wanting their approval yet hating when it is given to us. We are cut from a similar fabric in that neither of us could go to a party and feel like it was a good party unless we hooked up with someone by the end of the night. The only way we could have a good time was if someone with a dick had validated us with their sloppy, drunk erections. I became so good at performing this character to be validated, I had numerous men whisper to me in shadows, alleyways and basements: You are magical. Their eyes heavy from drinking and their brains fire-working as their hands cup my tits. They have not exchanged a word with me beyond this.

Yes, that is me in the picture.

I was a cheerleader in high school; the reaction men have to this is far more exciting than it’s reality: I practiced throwing other humans into the air and then worried about catching them. But they also choreographed us spanking ourselves into our dance routine, just in case we thought for a second that we might be anything but objects to be consumed.

I am a rugby player in high school; this only gets a chuckle. I never really played in games anyways.

I wrote, at the age of 17, all about how sometimes we needed to give ourselves superpowers:

“They felt simultaneously that they actively chose a sexualized image- which was nobody’s damned business but their own- and that they had no choice.”

I go camping with my partner and don’t shower the entire 3 days. I leave my makeup bag at home and don’t look in a mirror at all. He reaches for me and holds me, we talk about our future together; he builds us a home in his mind and asks me questions about environmentally-friendly architecture every half hour. It is hard for me to articulate to him this part of myself that is object objecting to objectification yet demanding of it. It is difficult for me to swallow his gutteral reactions to beautiful women on the street because I am that woman and I hate it and I also hate that he is not giving that reaction to me.

“If, as bell hooks suggested, pop culture portrayals of women beg the question ‘Who has access to the female body?'”

I wasn’t given access to my body. I had to go looking for access to my body and I am still learning how to interact with it.

I’m interviewed for a Montreal CBC show and they ask me what’s the difference between mainstream porn and feminist porn. I thought about this after they left my apartment in a flurry of French. The difference is in my reaction. The difference is that one makes me feel nauseous, anxious and panicked; that I am not them, and that even though I have been dragged through the process of objectification to it’s entirety, I will never be them. I cannot act that long and remain whole.

The other makes me feel like there is a light at the end of the tunnel.

“If you are sick and want to be well, you need to relay the details of your symptoms: glossing over them ensures a lifetime of illness.” – Jessica Valenti, ‘Sex Object’



Categories SEX