Easter Eve & Kinky Passover in Bonoboville
Length 01:34:50 Date: April 15, 2017
Easter Bunnies and Passover Kinksters gather together in my Womb Room to celebrate the erotic, often pagan roots of the Judeo-Christian Rites of Spring.
Officiating in my priestly robes, tallit, cross (given to me by a devout Catholic sex therapy client), Star of David (woven for me by Twin Towers inmates from the threads of their prison uniforms), “Lox et Veritas” g-string, “Love Me, Kiss Me, Marry Me” thigh highs and Easter Bunny ears, I, the Irreverend Dr. Susan Block, channel the spirit of The Great Bonobo Spring Easter Bunny Alien Matzah Goddess.
Whereupon great miracles occur!
At least, we pull off a great show, balancing blasphemy with ecstasy. The bitter herbs and other herbs, chocolate eggs and Manischewitz converge with “sub space” and Dom power to hatch the egg of that “miraculous” feeling of personal passion and collective joy (with a hat tip to Barbara Ehrenrich).
Religious rituals, myths and symbols of our childhood take on new meanings that are really very old. Some are older than the religions themselves, such as the eggs of Eostre and the Resurrection of Persephone. The old Easter/Passover horrors of slavery, bondage, torture and pain are transformed into pleasure through consensual roleplay, as my guests take on the roles of Egyptian taskmaster and Hebrew slave, and the Res-Erection of Jesus as a woman wearing a giant strap-on screwing a nun into a frenzy.
Before we enter the sanctified sacrilegious haze of these Judeo-Christian-Pagan holidaze, we shout-out the all-American Carnival of Cash & Reckoning, April 15th, Tax Day, specifically the HYUGE (much bigger than Trump’s inauguration!) Tax Marches going on all over the country demanding that Trump show us his tax returns or, better yet, get out of town and take the whole damn Trump Family Empire, along with Pence and Ryan, out with him.
Our own Gypsy Bonobo, cute as an Easter button in overall shorts and pigtails like droopy bunny ears, and Clemmy Cockatoo actually attend a local Tax March, which, Gypsy reports, was filled with wonderful ladies. The Moral of this Story is: Guys (or Gals), if you want to meet hot “Nasty Women,” forget the bars and dating apps; just go to an anti-Trump protest. Make a clever sign – like “Trump Has No Tax Returns! Putin is claiming him as a dependent…”—and you’ll be sure to score some hot dates.
Trump himself, the quintessential big dickhead with small penis syndrome, looks like he could use a hot date, what with his lovely wife Melania rarely visiting him in the White House, and his vixen daughter Ivanka mercilessly teasing him down the hall. Then again, maybe he doesn’t care about all these women—nasty or nice—as caught up as he is with his new fetish for big bombs, and no that’s not a colorful term for big boobs. Odds are that Little Donnie probably always had this fetish, but he just couldn’t actualize it until the presidency gave him the “toys” and the power to finance and shoot off Tomahawks and other bombs whenever he feels like it (with his HYUGE defense budget, he can always use our tax dollars to buy new ones), including the mindboggling MOAB, aka the Massive Ordnance Air Blast, aka the Mother of All Bombs.
As a sex therapist, I’ve counseled many big dickheads with tiny penises who fetishize big dicks, big guns and big missiles. Let’s just say the fetishizing of the actual dicks, controversial and humiliating as it may be for many “straight” men, is much safer for all concerned than the fetishizing—and dropping—of actual bombs.
It’s funny and fitting that the MOAB of the Moment, our biggest non-nuclear bomb, is colored hazmat orange just like it’s made for the Cheeto-Colored Missile Fetishist in the Oval Orifice. Instead of letting him shoot off bombs like deadly premature ejaculations into random countries, killing a hundred terrorists and creating hundreds more at a massive cost to the American taxpayer, maybe we should collectively shove the thing up his orifice…
My professional guess is that he would really like that.
Bonoboville’s Trump, an actual big dick pillow with an appropriately-sized micropenis made from a straw, is sissied up for the holiday in an Easter frock of buttercup yellow and baby blue with a yarmulke and an Easter bonnet with bunny ears on his head, a piece of Matzah and The Bonobo Way between his balls and a golden egg stuffed in his mouth. Gypsy, my guests and I take turns torturing him throughout the show. Of course, it doesn’t change the crazy, racist, sexist and increasingly perilous situation being commandeered by the Big Orange Baby with the Big Orange Bombs, but it’s a lot of fun. I call it “Trumpocalypse Therapy.”
Since Trump refused to attend the White House Seder, we force him to attend ours… under gag-order with an egg.
Calendar-wise, we are a little late since the official Seder nights of 2017 fell on Monday and Tuesday, and we were way too swept up in enjoying our sterling 25th Wedding Anniversary Bacchanal—and then before we knew it we were rushing off for our private romantic getaway at the Marina del Rey Hotel (more on that coming soon in a future blog)—to hold a Seder on the proper days. But I’ve loved Pesach, the Seder, the stories and rituals since I was a little girl reciting the “Four Questions” and having my first tipsy sip of sweet 11% alcohol content Manischewitz. Besides, it’s still Pesach week, so we’re not totally off-calendar, and ours is a very kinky Passover. Basically, we “pass over” the usual theme of liberation from nonconsensual bondage and miserable slavery into a spectacular showcase of consensual bondage and slavish submission.
Like I’ve said before: Freedom is the greatest aphrodisiac. But restraint is a close second.
Sir Pent & His Happy Tribe
Our first guests are BDSM lifestylist and teacher, Sir Pent, and his slavegirls, Princess and Fire, all last seen in Bonoboville on our Pre-Lupercalia Flog-Fest. On this show, we learn a bit more about their fascinating “tribe” of BDSM lovers and friends, led by “the strong hand and outstretched arm,” fluid Florentine wrist action and mischievous smile of Sir Pent . Like a Mormon patriarch without the Mormonism, Sir Pent lives with his loving wife, Princess, a part-time submissive, as well as their friendly full-time submissive, Fire.
Then, let the whippings begin! Like an Egyptian taskmaster who honed his trade in the Pyramid “construction centers” (similar to Sean Spicer’s “holocaust centers,” but without the poison gas), Sir Pent skillfully whips, flogs, paddles, spanks and wallops Princess and Fire, together and separately, topless and panties flogged halfway down. They don’t get any pyramids constructed, but they do get smacked into “sub space,” that sublime, almost beatified trance state that many consensual submissives go into as they are beaten or tortured, endorphins rising in their bloodstreams as rapture rises in their souls. For this, they appear to be deeply, perhaps eternally, grateful.
And isn’t being “grateful” what Easter, Passover and the Res-Erection of Spring are all about?
So, what’s in it for the Dom? Sir Pent is, by his own exuberant admission, quite “sadistic.” The fact that he is able to channel his sadism into smacking the backs, boobs and behinds of various happy masochists and submissives, rather than bullying small countries with big bombs, is a credit to his creativity and bonoboësque morality.
Chocolate Easter eggs all around!
Mistress Liz & Her Big Dick
It’s always (well, almost always) fun to receive a surprise holiday guest, and ours is the vivacious Mistress Liz, a lifestyle mistress who is great fun, and might be as “sadistic” as Sir Pent, though she does it in her own, distinctly feminine, effervescent fashion. She is also a gal after Dr. Sigmund Freud’s heart, as she is a perfect example of a woman with “penis envy.” Dr. Freud might be somewhat shocked to see how Ms. Liz satiates her phallic desire by simply rocking one of her own, lifting her red latex skirt to reveal a 10-inch realistic strap-on dildo.
She’s only started wearing strap-ons this year, but feels she’s a “natural” and can’t wait to show off what she can do. In fact, throughout the first part of the show, she’s like a guy who can’t keep his dick in his pants, except…she’s a gal who can’t keep her dick under her skirt.
At various points throughout the show, her big silicon MOAB hovers over the helpless head of our Trump dick, portending… something ominous, though who knows what with Trumplethinskin the Missile Fetishist trying to shore up his sagging ratings.
Eventually Mistress Liz finds a “home” for her hot cock, first inside the worshipful mouth, and then (sheathed in a Glyde America Vegan Condom and lubed up with Astroglide) the very happy ass of a demonically devout nun, our own Sister Jacquie Blu, in shackles and chains reminiscent of Jesus’ bondage under the Roman centurions.
Sister Jacquie’s submission to Mistress Liz’s big dong is not exactly a miracle, but it is a sight to behold.
Though I suck the Jesus Jackhammer with some conviction, Sister Jacquie receives Ms. Liz’s rod like it’s the staff of God Almighty.
She moans and calls out his name, in prayers and curses, as the merciless (but consensual) Mistress Liz wallops and then reams her ass, thrusting violently enough to make most folks crack, but apparently just enough to make Sister Jacquie explode like a love bomb.
Yes indeed, fire that Mother of All Missiles between your legs. Make love not war.
Jesus Jackhammer Rising & Dayenu Flogging
Before this apocalyptic climax, we indulge in a few other rituals that some might call a divine sacrilege but we feel is simply divine, as well as fun and meaningful, such as roleplaying the Res-Erection with a Divine Interventions “Jesus Jackhammer” dildo rising up out of a Vulva Puppet. Amen and Awomen. Upon penetration, all sing, “Hallelujah! Jesus is in her now!”
We also interrupt the serious beatings with a little scallion flogging, a real Sephardic Jewish tradition that Orthodox Rabbi Shmuley Boteach taught Capt’n Max and me at his family Seder, as his seven kids, wife, dad, brother and sister-in-law sat around the Seder table smacking each other on the back with green onions during every chorus of “Dayenu.”
Then and now, the scallions break as we smack, simultaneously breaking everyone up into giggles of cathartic release, though Sephardic tradition tells us they are reminders of the whippings the Hebrew slaves endured from their Egyptian taskmasters.
It’s a different kind of “family-style” consensual whipping, if you ask me. In Rabbi Shmuley’s case, you could say the scallion smacking was an appetizer for the Seder meal. In Bonoboville’s case, it’s just a smellier kind of flogging. Here is a case in which something that appears sacrilegious is actually religious. Yet isn’t that often the case with religion? One person’s blasphemy is another’s voice of God.
Indeed, our intention in this Commedia Erotica celebration of perhaps the most profound Judeo-Christian holidays of the year, is not to offend, but to entertain, challenge, investigate, tickle your pickle and inspire your sapiosexual and yes, even your spiritual desire.
It certainly inspires the Captain’s desire as we more than dutifully fulfill the Jewish “mitzvah” (good deed) of having sex with your spouse on a holiday, whereupon Jesus rises again, my bunny gets hopping, and soon we’re the ones calling out to God.
Thanks to this week’s volunteers and staff: Camera Operator – Alan Smithee; Photographers – Rick Slick, JoeyxLA, OCSnaps; Intern –Maurice Plough; On-Campus Bonobos – Abe Perez, Del Rey, Gypsy Bonobo, Harry Sapien, Jacquie Blu, MarsFX, Johnny Jungle, Clemmy Cockatoo, Ana & Miguel.
© April 15, 2017. Susan Block, Ph.D., a.k.a. “Dr. Suzy,” is a world renowned LA sex therapist, author of The Bonobo Way: The Evolution of Peace through Pleasure and horny housewife, occasionally seen on HBO and other channels. For speaking engagements, call 310-568-0066.