Nov 042010
 

From the Greek Ephebos (one arrived at puberty) Zṓion (animal) and Philia (love for or obsession for, sexually), Ephebozoophilia is the sexual desire to have sex with very young animals; those around an age that we’d usually refer to them as puppies or kittens.

A form of bestiality, ephebozoophilia is illegal in most countries except for Denmark. In the UK, Section 63 of the Criminal Justice and Immigration Act 2008 (also known as the Extreme Pornography Act) outlaws images of a person performing or appearing to perform an act of intercourse or oral sex with an animal (whether dead or alive). Countries such as Belgium, Germany, and Russia are somewhere in between; they permit sexual activity with animals, but prohibit the promotion of animal-oriented pornography.

Until 2005 ephebozoophilia was still legal in the US state of Washington and the Canadian province of Newfoundland and Labrador. However, after an incident on July 2, 2005, when a man was pronounced dead in the emergency room of the Enumclaw community hospital after having been sodomized by a pony, the state legislature of the State of Washington, which had been one of the few states in the United States without a law against bestiality, within six months passed a bill making bestiality illegal and Newfoundland and Labrador followed suit.

Little has been written or researched about ephebozoophilia as ephebophilia (which denotes men who prefer adolescents around 15–19 years of age) is not recognised officially in human to human relationships. It has been concluded at a scholarly level that “few would want to label erotic interest in late or even mid adolescents as a psychopathology”; by implication proving, (what most people, including doctors and judges already know), that most men are actually turned on by teens1.

Today, in Hungary, where production faces no legal limitations, ephebozoosexual materials have become a substantial industry that produces numerous films and magazines and in Japan, animal pornography is used to bypass censorship laws, often featuring Japanese and Russian female models performing fellatio on young animals, because oral penetration of a non-human penis is not in the scope of Japanese mosaic censor.

A recent case study2 centred around Atika Kurī from Sapporo, (capital of the Hokkaidō Prefecture in Japan), a film producer renowned for ephebozoosexual movies. Rather than produce traditional zoosexual films where the male animal penetrates a human female in some way, Kurī-san used male porn stars to penetrate puppies, foals, kids (young goats) and in one film even a young llama.

Although technically not illegal in Japan and in his target market of Equatorial Guinea in Africa, Kurī-san made an error in his cargo routing and some of his freight landed on US soil and was seized by customs. Kurī-san was subsequently investigated by customs and due to the shocking nature of what they found they informed PETA.

PETA took an unusual step and with the Humane Society of America investigated Kurī-san on his home soil. What they found was that Kurī-san was puppy farming and actually part of an underground furry (one who has an interest in and sexual desire for anthropomorphic animals (animals who have a human qualities be it simply talking or having a human-like body) network interested in neoteny (the retention, by adults in a species, of traits previously seen only in juveniles)). These extreme furries (Babyfurs)3 had been experimenting with home-brew genetics on the animal’s thyroid glands looking to create a state of progenesis (the attainment of sexual maturity by an organism still in its juvenile stage and having a secondary result of never experiencing later developmental stages so never achieving the adult form experienced by it’s evolutionary ancestors).

Although Japan is tolerant of most things sexually except for pubic hair, non-governmentally sanctioned genetic research and manipulation carries severe penalties and Kurī-san was tried and imprisoned for these offences.

It is widely believed (there is official documentation stating) that the results of Kurī-san’s successful genetic experiments were destroyed humanely. However, conspiracy theorists have remarked that a) some people in Sapporo and the surrounding areas have been attacked by puppy Chihuahuas approaching the size of a large Spaniel and that b) the Japanese government have been trying to reverse engineer Kurī-san’s experiments in the hope of creating a virus capable of carrying and transmitting the gene responsible for progenesis to humans via water borne parasites. It is interesting to note that although Japan remains a peaceful country since WW2 it still bears a cultural grudge against all foreigners especially those from China and North Korea.

1 – No citation needed

2 – Only approximate dates known

3 – See link: Babyfurs

Oct 272010
 

From the Greek Arachno (spider) and Philia (love for or obsession for, sexually) arachnophilia isn’t, as some people think, a sexual desire for all things spidery (that particular kink falls under octophilia with other eight legged creatures) but a male sexual desire to be eaten by the female after sex.

Normally enjoyed as a role-play paraphilia this fetish is closely related to anthropophagy (the practise of cannibalism) and vorarephilia (the desire to eat someone or be eaten either alive or whole; in one mouthful). However arachnophilia differs in so much as sex or the act of procreation has to be enacted beforehand. As a role-play men will often seek out far larger women than themselves and wear a suit made out of ham or other easily stitched together meat that the female can eat off of him once orgasm has been reached. In safe sex circles rubber knives and forks are often used to prevent accidental cutting or stabbing of the victims real flesh.

It is very much a domination fetish and as such safe-words should be decided on beforehand to stop things from moving out of the sub’s comfort zone. The Webster’s dictionary actually describes it as an extreme fetish.

In it’s most extreme form arachnophilia is only ever acted out once by the male sub and there are rumoured to be underground forums where males can seek out large and willing females prepared to consume their flesh. This practise is illegal in all countries apart from Lithuania where cannibalism was never seen as a realistic enough1 crime to be noted in their statutory laws.

During the early 1990’s as the world wide web expanded and paraphiles realised that they could ply their wares there quite anonymously Lithuania saw a huge influx of immigrants eager to exist in a country where the standard of living was quite high, the scenery was beautiful and cannibalism was legal.

The most publicised account of arachnophilia centred around Heidi Alutnarat and Frau Redips, both originally from Germany when they set up residence in Czechoslovakia after they were both widowed.

Similar to the inspiration behind Eli Roth’s movie Hostel (an internet site offering humans for slaughter for cash) Alutnarat and Redips set up an underground website targeting arachnophiles.

Many men were taken for a spin as Frau’s Redips and Alutnarat’s web of deceit gained notoriety amongst arachnophiles world-wide. As many of these men with such a bizarre fetish lived in recluse and used pseudonyms online it has been difficult for the authorities to ascertain how many men the evil Frau’s got their fangs into but it has been estimated to be in the low hundreds2.

Although people with a purely vanilla outlook to sex would view arachnophilia as a tragic antic in itself, not only did Redips and Alutnarat offer death for sale, to the arachnophile they offered a service that was far less than they promised: Once the widows had lured the men into their lair they apparently butchered them without sex beforehand and then sold them on to the Czech meat market as cuts of pork, salami’s or meat pies.

The two women were arrested in October 2006 and after trial were sentenced to death by firing squad. Their execution was carried out in November 20083. Apparently their website remained online for a few months following their arrest but was taken down by the Czech authorities. A sound bite of the trial was available on a paraphile forum for a while but has not been seen or heard of for quite some time now.

1, 2 & 3 Citation needed.

Oct 182010
 

One of my most admired business models is that of Coffee Cake and Kink in London;

Coffee Cake and Kink online

Partly for the great coffee, partly for the great cake but mostly for their warm greetings, tolerant non-judgemental advice, great customer service, superior product lines, adult art and for creating in London a space where all of the above can be enjoyed by anyone of any gender, mix of gender or sexual persuasion.

Whilst I was still living in London there was nothing better than spending a sunny afternoon, drinking coffee, sat at one of their outside tables, watching the world go by or chatting to other customers about everything from Eastenders on TV the previous night to the best way to bind the breasts of a willing female slave and what rope to use.

If money were no object and I could open a business in Cornwall tomorrow I’d be phoning Alana and asking if I could either franchise or borrow their name and business model to open a similar shop to CCK down here in Cornwall. In fact, had my studio not closed it would have hopefully evolved into something very similar to CCK.

That would have, could have been the social enterprise aspect of my business; to promote safe and healthy sex and tolerance of all sexuality in Cornwall. (You have to remember that Cornwall often seems to lag a little behind the rest of the country and that Truro only held it’s second Gay Pride this year).

Cornwall, at least as far as the Cornwall I have seen, isn’t too big on sexual tolerance. Hence this post.

On the 11th of October this year, St Austell town councillors met to discuss the councils position should it receive an application for a sex shop, cinema or sexual entertainment venue. The result, pending approval by Cornwall Council was that a ‘zero tolerance’ policy should be implemented.

Apparently 90 streets were ‘blacklisted’ (those that contained any thoroughfare for children and stores that children or their parents may use, other entertainment venues or religious meeting places). Councillor John Stocker thought even more streets should have been included on the list.

The deputy Mayor Sandra Heyward (who was responsible for the groundwork prior to the meeting) insisted that the plan for zero tolerance was not decided on a ‘moral basis’.

During the meeting, examples were given citing why a zero tolerance plan was best, including; an Ann Summers store in Cardiff, six doors away from a Disney store, a sex shop in Truro having been granted a license next door to school uniform shop and the fact that a sex shop that opened in St Austell several years ago was forced to close after only six weeks because “concerned parents protested and it became a ‘bit of an embarrassing’ place to go”.

The above was taken from an article by Dominic Howell in the Cornish Guardian dated the 13th October 2010.

Zero tolerance huh? Well, it looks like my plans are scuppered! I wonder how old the councillors are, what businesses they personally represent and what the demographic of the shopping public of St Austell is?

I can (sort of) see the councillors point of view if they were objecting to the sort of sex shop that existed in the 1970’s that only appealed to the ‘dirty Mac’ brigade. But, since the internet that kind of shop has largely vanished. Firms that synonymised that kind of sex shop like ‘Private’ have moved online and there is no longer a need for blacked out windows and screens between the shop door and shop proper. Sex shops by today’s definition are often stores for women who want to experiment with their sexuality actually run by women.

Jacqueline Gold’s clever re-branding of the Ann Summers chain paved the way for this and brought sex to the high street although when they tried to open a shop in Tunbridge Wells they were accused of ‘degrading’ marriage. Perhaps it is fashionable to move to St Austell for retirement from Tunbridge Wells?

Firms like Sh! Harmony, Coco de Mar and Organic Pleasures took Ann Summer’s ball and ran with it, proving that women actually liked sex and that the problem with sex was (probably) the male’s perception of ‘sex’. This was largely typified by shops with blacked out windows, rows and rows of magazines and films featuring big breasted, vacant eyed never-to-be starlets on the covers and blow-up dolls in boxes with a lurid red, gaping hole where the mouth should be and legs akimbo held apart by hard plastic seams that grazed your skin. (Allegedly).

In an area like St Austell that has problems with it’s youth, with drug use and teenage pregnancy is zero tolerance the best policy?

I know for a fact that when I opened my studio for it’s short lived stint in St Austell that people in the LGBT community, the transgender community and the BDSM community were crying out for somewhere they could shop, drink coffee amongst their own and have somewhere to meet on a day-to-day basis.

I know of a schoolgirl lesbian that was bullied into leaving her school when she ‘came out’ even though it is fashionable to be bi-sexual in the same school.

A middle aged lesbian complained that nowhere in Cornwall was there anywhere she could turn to for advice on lesbian pornography or sex toys without being part of the ‘LGBT’ culture, something she felt she didn’t ever want to belong to. Her sexuality she explained, was her own private business and not a statement. She lived alone she told me.

I know that people in both the Transgender and BDSM communities in St Austell didn’t always want to have to travel to Truro for a monthly structured meeting (munch) or have to go to Truro’s ‘gay bar’ for a drink.

On Facebook, there are Ann Summers ‘groups’ (with plenty of members) based in all the major Cornish towns. Ann Summers parties are therefore big business locally which by association would imply that there was a need for sex toys and sexy lingerie. As my own modelling groups on Facebook and these Ann Summers groups often shared the same ‘friends’ I can safely say that the demographic for both was in the age range of 14 years old to around 22.

Councillors and parents in Cornwall. Wise-up! Your children are having sex! Your constituents and shoppers are having sex. Your children and constituents may be gay or not adverse to wearing a little latex while strapped to a St Andrews cross being flogged enthusiastically about the buttocks with a leather riding crop or bamboo cane.

One could argue that given the propensity of ‘online’ shopping there is no need for physical sex shops?

I would say that since the days of the ‘ivory white’, ribbed, nine inch plastic vibrator (sorry; massager) are (mostly) dead and that since sex toys now cost often into the region of hundreds of pounds that physical shopping and sensible, adult advice are completely warranted.

In my opinion a store running with a business model like Coffee Cake and Kink is almost a necessity in all major towns. Cornwall could benefit with a similar shop in Penzance, Truro and St Austell with Plymouth (pun intended) bring up the rear.

Where better for the coffee drinking, cake eating, youth and the sexually diverse to get sensible, non-judgemental advice? Are they going to get advice on safe experimentation in sex education lessons? The family planning clinic? The doctors or from a teenage mum that to supplement her minimum wage income is running Ann Summers parties for her mates? I think not.

Zero tolerance? I think that the councillors of St Austell need to re-think their policies or at the very least have someone on board to play devils advocate and help bring Cornwall (kicking and screaming probably) into the 21st Century.

Apr 092010
 

Hopefully you’ve read the ‘about me’ page? If not, I suggest you do so to make sense of and understand this post.

The studio in St Austell closed pretty much as soon as it opened. I was like a goldfish in a bowl where the only people coming in to swim in my waters were the drunks, the druggies, the morbidly curious (the rubberneckers) and friends. Everyone else just peered through the glass at the sad and lonely fish bouncing off the walls and the fetish furniture.

Over the period of three months I shot three models on a TFCD basis and had one paying customer that couldn’t afford the full amount so I let him have the shoot half price. It was for his girlfriend on her birthday; I’m a sucker for people doing good deeds.

It seemed that the local LGBT community was a closed group run out of a bar in Truro and the local BDSM community weren’t half as liberal as the communities I’d known in London. I was kicked off their forum as a few people disagreed with the religious aspects of my work and I later found out that in Plymouth, at a Torture Garden/Club Rub type affair the bouncers actually removed crops, whips and swatches from the customers prior to their entry to the club.

The models that I wanted to help promote didn’t show. There were lots of girls wanting to be shot but no-one seemed to make the effort to actually show up and be shot. To the girls in Plymouth, while seemingly wanting to work with me, obviously found the forty minute trip to St Austell to be similar to trekking across the Gobi desert on foot and un-supported. They never showed. Perhaps they wandered off, lured by a mirage somewhere near West Taphouse.

A depression that had been brewing since the beginning of the year took full hold of me and in October I shut the studio doors for the last time. I hung up my camera and immersed myself into an autopsy of a failed business.

In December, I was diagnosed with Type 2 diabetes. I had to give up sugar, lose weight and control my blood sugars with a daily round of tablets added to those I was already taking for the depression. Half of my family disowned me over money issues and having signed on to the electoral role when I moved to Cornwall all of my past debtors caught up with me in one fell swoop.

After a fairly dismal Christmas without the majority of my family and without money, I was struggling to deal with day-to-day issues and even those things I found pleasurable felt like chores. My bodyboard went into the same not-to-be-opened box as my camera and kites. I hung up my wetsuit and became reclusive. In January, when I thought things could get no worse I received court orders from the CSA and managed to spectacularly offend my last remaining close friends.

Our neighbours rallied around my partner and I and with them and our dog we managed to get by. As proud a man as I am I felt weak and humbled by their help. I hate to be seen as looking for sympathy and I hate being in a place where I need help rather than being able to offer it. I felt I’d made a bunch of lifestyle choices that were detrimental and that my rebellious nature far from defining me had been my undoing. At times I even envied those people stuck on the M25 on their way to sensible office jobs in the morning and similarly stuck on the M25 in the evening on their way home to their three bedroomed semi’s in suburbia with their 2.4 children and their doting stay at home but ultimately unsatisfied wives who were busy having affairs with their gym instructors.

I went for a psychiatric assessment. I became a 20 hour a day World of Warcraft playing hermit only venturing out of the house for shopping and cigarettes. If I wasn’t online then I was asleep in bed.

I had over four and half thousand ‘friends’ on my Facebook account and only twelve of them were friends. Of that twelve I missed most of their posts and updates and had upset over half of them into not talking to me.

Still, I had Jo and the dog… They stood by me and refused to give up on me. Still, I had my father who surprisingly was the one to rally round and support me of all my family. Still I had our neighbours who were there daily to chat, smoke and drink coffee with. Surprisingly I also had the Church I’d so royally offended but felt I was worth trying to convert and save.

More than that I had a dogged determination not to give up. I wanted a blog in which to vent and throw open ideas, I badgered my ISP into providing functionality which although they are one of the biggest and most professional ISP’s they didn’t offer unless one was paying a vast sum of money for hosting each year. I wanted a new slant on the business and I wanted my health back.

Sympathy can make one weak. It’s nice to receive in small doses and can make you feel loved and cared about but can ultimately leave you wanting more and losing the will to fight while wrapped in that cotton-wool ball of love.

It’s sometimes easier to shut yourself away in a room of your own and weather the crushing blows of your depression alone. It’s easier sometimes to sit alone and think and write and to measure your own failures and successes looking for that break in the weather to make you want to walk in the sunshine.

Alone you can make your own decisions and define your own future rather than being told how you’ve failed and how to avoid making the same mistakes over and over.

I’ve had to sell everything but my camera and one lens to survive since October. All the lights are gone, my car is gone and my DVD collection comprises only of those films I love and can truly watch over and over.

But… I have my blog now and I have a fresh slant on an old idea. I still have half a family and I have friends if only I show them love back. I have Jo and Sid my dog.

I’m not prepared to give up just yet and am tossing around an idea in my head that will not only be financially viable to myself but to any of the models that sign up for it. I was down but never completely out. I still have issues but I’m willing to iron them out. I still have faults but I’ll hold my hands up to them and try to overcome them.

I’m going to give it one more go. I might have a space in which to start a new studio, I might have an idea that will pay the bills but not satisfy my soul. If I have that space, hell, even without that space I might also have the idea that satisfies my soul and pays the bills.

Who’s willing to take a chance with me and step on-board?