Length 01:34:27 Date: Dec. 7th, 2019

by Dr. Susan Block.

Tis a dark and wet Krampusnacht weekend, when Krampus, the hornèd, horny Xmas devil of rich medieval Alpine folklore and cheap Hollywood horror movies, roams the earth, wreaking hornèd, horny havoc upon the “naughty.”

Bad Santa

Krampus is the dark side of jolly old Saint Nick. He also looks a lot like Pan, the ancient Greek, half-human/half-goat “God of the Wild” who lends his horns, hooves, long tongue and tail to the Christian “Satan” and his name to the Latin classification for bonobos, Pan paniscus.

But Krampus is a bad Pan, to say the least. While sweet Santa Claus brings joy and gifts to “nice” boys and girls, Krampus kidnaps, frightens, whips and spanks “naughty” children of all ages during the punishing yuletide lead-up to the big Xmas gift-gasm.

Dark Santa, bad Pan, Big Foot and Freddy Krueger all converge into an amusingly grotesque figure that the faithful called “The Krampus.”  Quite popular in the late 19^th and early 20 century, adults often sent each other’s children postcards featuring monstrous, child-beating Krampuses, accompanied by cheerful warnings that they’d better behave… or else the Krampus would get them.

To this day, young people of Alpine villages from Bavaria to Slovakia dress in Krampus “cosplay” and bang on drums to mock-terrorize the populace. Somewhat ironically, but in keeping with Krampusnacht tradition, it’s considered good luck and great fun to be terrorized by a Krampus.

Perhaps not surprisingly, the old Popes and the Nazis both expressly forbade Krampus depictions under penalty of Krampus-like punishments and, of course, much worse.

Apparently, they didn’t appreciate the Krampus mocking their serious cruelty.

Following World War II, the Krampus character went through a makeover, developing more of an interest in sexy ladies, rather than kids. That’s the Kinky Krampus I prefer.to represent here for Kinky Krampusnacht in Bonoboville in my horny horns, elfin evergreen, whips, holy and red “Orgasm Donor” button.

Red to my green, my assistant Sunshine McWane is “Krimpus” to my Krampus, her hair crimped like a wavy fashion plate.

Joining us in the little Love Church of the Bonobo Way to help us celebrate the Krampusnacht is a beautiful porn starlet named Gia Gelato and a homoflexible, rope-rigging leather man who calls himself Eagle Bear.

And doggie Maki makes five.

A nice little group, with just enough naughtiness for Krampus.

Krampus as Trumpus

But before I welcome my guests, I present the current incarnation of the Krampus haunting and tormenting the populace, the one who has kidnapped our psyches with his grabby little hands and poisonous serpentine tongue, is, of course, that demonic Swamp-Thing-in-Chief, the Orange Tyrannosaurus Rich, the anti-Santa, aka, The Trumpus. 

Through his bloated body and bombastic mind, the medieval Krampus folklore has sprung back to life in the modern Trumpus. While Krampus has long represented the dark foil to Santa that scares and punishes the naughty during the Xmas season, the Trumpus is a real-life holiday horror (and popular meme) in more ways than there are verses in The Twelve Days of Christmas.

Most disturbingly, whereas the Krampus is a fairy tale, the Trumpus really does kidnap, cage and punish children!

As Salon’s Andrew O’Hehir puts it, the Trumpus is “a ghoulish and unpredictable trickster. His gifts are never quite as they appear… Although he is an insignificant demon (in his home universe) he has the power to convince all of us, those who worship him and those who would cast him out, of his immense importance.”

Indeed. Like the ancient supernatural Krampus, mere mortals can’t outrun the Trumpus, at least not on the Internet where his ghoulish presence is everywhere, sucking up every molecule of air in the room, torturing us all… though some of us actually enjoy it (that’s one type of Post-Trump Sex Disorder).

While other Krampus incarnations around the world and over time have been worse, the Trumpus is the one who tortures us now, so his powers seem infinite, but they are not at all.

The Xmas “present” of the Trumpus is his presence, a Pandora’s Box for our times, a gaudy mirrored disco ball with a thousand reflections that show us how greedy, tacky, selfish, sexist, racist, ignorant, narcissistic and nasty we all can be.

Unlike Venus springing forth fully formed from the sea, the Trumpus has been spawned and nurtured by both Repugnicans and Democraps. The Repugs are decidedly the worst of the two proverbial evils, especially under the tiny thumb of the cancerous Trumpus, but we should not lose sight of the two American parties being, as Noam Chomsky put it, just two factions of one “business party,” which Gore Vidal similarly dubbed the “property party”… both of which showed their true, very bi-partisan colors by voting, with greed and perhaps a touch of sadism as their guide, to expand the range of the Trumpus’ terror with a Space Force (yes indeed, there’s no money for Bernie’s Medicare for All, but plenty of cash for a Space Force)!

So now it’s up to those of us who don’t have our heads fully up the Trumpus’ foul butthole to do what we can to rid the body politic of the devil, the disease and the devastation of the terrible Trumpus.

Unfortunately, there aren’t many options for doing that.

Therefore, we’re going with the least violent: In the immortal words of Congresswoman Rashida Tlaib: Let’s Impeach the MF!

10-15 Flushes

I really wish that Nancy Pelosi had had the cajones to impeach that other, arguably worse MF, George W. Pussy-Bush, along with his abidingly evil consigliere Dickface Cheney, for war crimes based on a pile of lies that murdered a million people and put us on the dreadful course of a Perma War that is good for nothing and no one except the top players in fossil fuels and the Military Industrial-Complex.

Well, at least, folksy Pelosi is finding it in her “heart full of love” to impeach this MF, and to that I say Amen. And AWOMEN. Go Bonobos for Nancy, swatting away “hate” like a boss with her manicured finger wag, white suit and black pearls. Impeach the MF!

Of course, the Senate is so far up the Trumpus arse, it’s unlikely they’ll convict the MF.

Speaking of which—trigger warning!—some of you might want to skip this paragraph because the Trumpus Rumpus seems to be as packed with rotting filth as old Krampus’ ghastly green 1000-year-old intestines. Yes, Brothers and Sisters, our precious Presidunce’s poops are so nasty, they take 10-15 flushes to go down and, “the chosen one” that he is, he felt the urge (ahem) to call a press conference about this.

From “locker room talk” to toilet training, it’s a slippery slope.

I’m a sex therapist, so it doesn’t bother me to hear about the Commander’s coprophilia fetish (well, not much). What’s disturbing, however, is that he’s presenting his feces fixation as evidence that more environment-friendly technology is dirty and useless, so we all might as well just eat hamberders, guzzle gas, burn coal, drop out of the Paris Accords, drop bombs and pollute our air and water in a massive deregulation orgy—which is a lot worse for climate change than ordinary orgies.

How does he get away with this? As stated, there are a lot of people—from U.S. Senators to ammosexual armies of “deplorables”—in addition to overcooked junk food, currently up the Trumpus ass. So, it’s no wonder he flushes his toilet more frequently than anyone in the world.

Unless he’s trying to shove his Depends down there.

Obviously, those people now kissing and virtually living in the Trumpus’ stinky ass, are likely to depend upon and defend their man, aka their asshole, no matter what either one say or do.

After all, even though that asshole stinks—I mean, really stinks—at least it’s warmer than being ejected into the frigid, unaffiliated waters of the toilet—not to mention subject to those punishing 10-15 flushes. Talk about water torture!

So it’s “crystal clear” that no matter what kind of shit comes down on them, those Trumpsters will stick with—or in—their asshole.

Impeachment may even strengthen their stubborn resolve and, horror of Trumpusian horrors, sweep the flushing fiend into a potentially catastrophic second term, and then there are his adorable “jokes” about never leaving office.

Nevertheless, with a Krampus like the Trumpus, impeachment is the right thing to do.

Even if we just narrow our focus to the Dems’ two measly little articles of Impeachment (and even though this puts me in agreement with the loathsome likes of Thomas Friedman), it’s clear that our Trumpus was trying his Trumpiest to get himself a bit of baksheesh, a golden bauble, a little quid pro quo, a personal bribe, an “errand,” a political favor in exchange for the release of U.S. aid, which is as impeachable as it gets. Of course, this is nowhere near the worst crime the terrible Trumpus has committed by far—not even close to caging migrant children, Trump Crime Family nepotism, emoluments, keeping America entangled in our perma wars, signing SESTA/FOSTA, inciting violence from the craziest of his crazed cult of Trumpsters, stoking racism, embodying sexism, denying Climate Change, lying every day, often many times a day, and the list goes on.

But his Personal Gain in Ukraine scam is pitch-perfect impeachable, not to mention bite-sized like those peach slices soaked in syrup, just made to go down easy.

Fresh, canned or infused into booze, I love me some juicy fruit.

Not that most members of the Cult of the Trumpus will swallow it.

But that doesn’t mean the rest of us shouldn’t serve up tasty Impeachment banquets anyway. Maybe we can entice a few vestigial taste buds to this delectable, potentially healing, sweet-to-eat, high fiber antidote to the draining and debilitating Trumpus virus afflicting the body politic.

Peaches are much easier on the toilet than all those hammy hamberders. Just two flushes max!

Besides, Eat a Peach was a great album.

So, we’re eating peaches for Impeachment at our 10^th peachy Impeachment Party.

Too bad we can’t get fresh peaches now. The canned variety are loaded with sugar and preservatives, but they’re yummy, juicy, sexy to lick, suck, bite and swallow, and they remind me of my canned-fruit childhood.

Best of all, they taste like Impeachment, a delicious antidote to the draining and debilitating Trumpus virus afflicting the body politic.

It takes a Krampus to beat the Trumpus!

Pearl Harbor & Saudi Mass Murder

Also, it’s the anniversary of Pearl Harbor when Japan surprise-attacked the US Pacific Fleet, bringing the U.S. into WW2. That was 78 years ago, but just the other day, a Navy Officer shot and killed two people, wounded a third and then killed himself right there in hallowed Pearl Harbor.

Of course, that’s what we train our noble “officers” to do. We don’t train them in the Bonobo Way; we train them to shoot to kill, so why are we surprised when they do it?

A day or two later, there was another Navy shooting in Pensacola. This gunman was a Saudi aviator in training (sound familiar?). The Trumpus assures us that his good friend, Mohammed Bin Bone Saw, is very sorry, “devastated” actually, but this is not the Saudi Way. If he’d done it himself, he’d have chopped them up with his bone saw or flown a plane into a building, but flailing about with a handgun while a fellow Saudi films it on his phone?

These are crazy times, Brothers and Sisters.

Golly Gia Gelato

But it’s the holidays! And we’ve got a sweet treat for you, creamier than eggnog ice cream on Christmas pudding, and her name is Gia Gelato.

About six months ago, this good Christian gal, “bored” with life in her hometown of Baltimore, entered the world of porn.

Now here she is: a porn star!

Most adult performers take it a step at a time, but young Gia, represented by Foxxx Models, jumped in the deep end first, having anal sex for the first time in her first porn scene.

No one should do this! It was so painful and uncomfortable, she called it “painal.” Though she blames herself for that, and she shouldn’t. It doesn’t sound like her scene partner or director (whose names she forgets) were very helpful or sensitive to her situation.

Nevertheless, Gia has survived and thrived.

She’s proud of some of the work she’s been doing, like a sexy, funny little film called “Cheerleaders: BFF.”

We play the trailer: what a hoot! Classic “cheerleader porn” featuring Gia looking sensational.

No anal surprise attacks in that one.

One thing that keeps Gia going strong is the support of her family. Though still rare in the adult industry, porn-positive family support is something I see more and more of, and that kind of care can make a world of difference in a young performer’s life.

Gia is such a down-to-earth gal; she even brings along her cute husky 12-week-old puppy, Maki, who captivates Bonoboville with his soulful eyes, long snout and soft fur.

He stays on set through the whole show!

Photos 1 & 5: Selfie. Photos 2-3: Francisco.  Photo 4: Bianca

But no, he doesn’t have sex with anyone, not even Betsy.

Though when he comes out from hiding, he steals the show, as well as our hearts.

Eagle Bear

Our other guest is also a DrSuzy.Tv “virgin,” though he’s a veteran in the gay kink scene.

Eagle Bear is a homoflexible “switch,” happy to play “Daddy Dom” or subbie, depending on the situation.

A friend of Joey Povanelli who was on our Fetus Nation show, Eagle Bear is the proud holder of the “Mr. Long Beach Leather 2019” title.

Photo 1: Francisco.  Photos 2-3: Bianca

He also loves puppy play—with human puppies as well as real ones like Maki… though there’s nothing sexual about his playing with Maki, so don’t even go there!

Animal play is a great, very therapeutic kink, in that you let down your “civilized” guard enough to behave as freely as nonhuman animals do.

I often encourage people to “release their inner bonobo,” but it’s fun and therapeutic to release your inner puppy, pussy, eagle, bear, cuck or cock of the walk.

We humans often forget that we’re animals, not angels, and animal play reminds us in an intimately evolutionary and ecosexual way.

Divine Interventions Nativity Scene

As the cold, wet Krampus winds blow through Bonoboville, out comes the Nativity Scene in a golden manger featuring a pink bonobo plushie toy as the Virgin Mary, and a Divine Interventions baby blue Baby Jesus Butt Plug as “the Holy Child” of Bonoboville who brings “Peace on Earth. Good Will to Men.”

It’s a joke and not intended to offend. Though a few billion well-placed butt plugs would cool off most of the world’s hotheads (the majority of whom are “men”), bringing “Peace on Earth. Pleasure for All.” After all, male well-being, along with female empowerment, is the Bonobo Way. 

Like Jesus, the Make-Love-Not-War bonobos are creatures of peace. They are humanity’s closest living great ape cousins, and they could be our simian “savior”—if we can learn from them how to make peace through pleasure.

Photos: Francisco

My divine mission (maybe if I seriously called it that, like Kanye and Joel Osteen, I could get “faith-based” tax breaks too) is to spread the Bonobo Gospel, to foment Bonobo RƎVO˩ution, to help save these highly endangered animals from extinction, as well as help deliver us humans from our own evil… incarnated—at the moment—by the terrible, toilet-mouthy Trumpus Krampus.

Even though he’s more appropriate for Easter than Xmas, I unwrap my latest Divine Interventions gift, a brand new cranberry-red Jesus Jackhammer dildo.

Naturally, I give him his first suck.

Photo 1: Francisco.  Photos 2-3: Bianca

Hallelujah! I have to open wide for the Jackhammer, but then I can say, “Jesus is in me now!”

Actually, I can’t talk with my mouth full.

Eagle Bear is salivating to suck Jesus too, so I have him washed off before offering him up to my guest’s hungry lips and tongue.

I also offer Jackhammer Jesus to Gia whose specialty is “oral,” but she politely declines.

Photos 2 & 3: Francisco.  Photos 2 & 4: Selfies

She has her limits. Remember, she’s a church-going porn star. And why not? Jesus loved the hookers.

Seasons Beatings from the Krampus

In the spirit of Krampus and having wet his whistle on Jesus, Eagle Bear requests that I smack his bare back with my magic fantastic Krampus-green neon whip.

The close quarters are perfect for cramped Krampus flogging.

Keeping Jesus in mind—and heart—the whipping is a light—very light—evocation of his epic scourging.

Photos 1-3: Bianca. Photo 4: Francisco

No doubt, according to all the Gospels and all the rumors, Jesus is kinky. The problem is that the consent issue is pretty vague.

Certainly, the 12 Stations of the Cross are willing sacrifice, with a heavy dose of masochism, but not “enthusiastic consent.”

“Jesus is King” of Kanye’s tax returns, but consent is king and queen in the kink world.

Always has been, always will be.

And Amen and Awomen to that.

Krampus Bondage

Then I ask Eagle Bear to assume the position of Daddy Dom Krampus and tie up our two lovely, naughty damsels.

Fully clothed for our PG platforms, Gia and Sunshine sit back to back on our tiger print sheepskin rug with Maki huddled underneath.

Then Eagle Bear ties them to each other, wrist to wrist.

Why would a mostly gay guy enjoy playing with ladies? It just goes to show you that kink can stretch beyond sexual desire into the realms of artistic collaboration and spiritual communion.

Not that there’s anything wrong with good old-fashioned sexual desire.

But you don’t have to feel it to enjoy power exchange play with someone you like and trust.

When I ask Eagle Bear if he’s utilizing Shibari or Kinbaku rope bondage, he shrugs and says he’s just “tying up people.”

Spoken like a true Mr. Long Beach Leather Man.

And what a fun Perils of Pauline Scene for Krampus.

I confess to having my own Krampus fantasies as I order our sexy, naughty, helplessly bound captives to stand up and turn around awkwardly and rather comically, menacing them with my sparkling stingy whip.

Not exactly Krampus the Horror Movie Villain; just good clean scary-sex fun.

Gia’s Motorbunny Ride

Now it’s time to turn the PG cameras off and turn up the heat on kinky Krampus.

Before the show, I’d asked Gia if she wanted to ride the Motorbunny, and though she didn’t seem to know what the device was exactly, she was game.

Though she apologizes for not being a highly skilled striptease artist, it’s what she reveals—a tall, sleek, slender, graceful beauty—that’s a “work of art.”

Then she mounts the Motorbunny, and Krampus turns up the vibration.

I also give her a little Krampus-style spanking with the poison ivy-colored neon whip to get her motor going.

Gia looks great, but after a minute or two, it’s clear that she’s not feeling great.

Don’t get me wrong; she’s laughing, but not moaning in pleasure.

 “It’s vibrating me everywhere except my pussy!” she giggles.

I suggest she shift her position, but that doesn’t help.

I consider a few other ideas, but this is a TV show, not a therapy session, and if she’s not feeling it, why push it?

The Motorbunny has a lot of fans; in fact, this is the first time we’ve had someone ride it but really not like it.

Maybe Gia feels funny on the ‘Bunny because Maki is sitting behind her.

He does look kind of odd—but adorable. And utterly innocent!

Nevertheless, I don’t want this to be like Gia’s first anal scene: a bad experience. So I declare it over. She looks relieved to hop off that Bunny.

Hey, at least, you know Gia is genuine and DrSuzy.Tv isn’t scripted when you see this type of real-life reaction.

Naked Hooping

Now for something completely different: Naked and half-naked hula-hooping!

At this, none of us are skilled at all.

When I’m the one who keeps the hula going the longest, you know you’ve got an unskilled hoop group.

But we have fun!

And Gia looks fantastic.

So does Sunshine.

Eagle Bear is adorable.

But Krampus conquers on hooping.

And the Impeachment Party continues.

Feast of the Krampus

Before we can say “Krampus Trumpus Rumpus,” it’s time to wind up the live broadcast.

But the Impeachment Party continues as we “eat a peach,” kicking up our heels on the Trumpus Voodoo Doll, gagged on a pine cone, as a foot stool.

Animal lovers that we are, we have fun communing with soulful Miko.

Then we follow the Bonobo Way into a banquet of bubbly and spectacular sauces, courtesy of Chefs Max and Ana.

It’s another great feast in Bonoboville.

Speaking of sexy food or edible sex and just making a big erotic holiday mess, get the perfect stocking stuffing: Splosh ‘n’ Art.

Gia and her friend Tony do a little romantic splosh as they eat one of Max’s al dente noodles from one end to the middle of a juicy French kiss.

And speaking of kissing, check out our new Sex Calls clip, “Why Won’t She Kiss Me?”

Don’t be caught with no kisses under the Mistletoe!

Thanks to Sunshine, we have creamy gelato for Gia Gelato.

From Pelosi to Gelato, kisses to Krampus, horned to horny goats, ashes to orgasms, dust to lust, surprise sex with enthusiastic consent, and hopefully impeachment, and then to Bernie as the nominee and Cougar Liz Warren as veep, with a little more socialism and even more orgasms, with saving the bonobos, with peace on earth, pleasure for all, and a no-more-Trumpus chaser.

These are the dreams I drift past in the arms of My handsome Captain, falling into dark, steroid-laced (still fighting that climate change-induced congestions), post-orgasmic bliss as the sun rises without a trace (thank you blackout curtains), through flesh, blood and breath, into delicious sleep.

© December 7, 2019. 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 213-291-9497.