Master D’s SchoolGirl LapDance Spectacular @ Dr. Suzy’s College of Carnal Knowledge: Class of 2012. Photo: JuxLii

Length: 85:16 minutes        Date: 07/28/2012

Check out the Free PGish Pix Page… X Pix and Video at  DrSusanBlock.tv!

The “sexy schoolgirl” look is one of the world’s most ubiquitous and beloved clothing-oriented fetishes.  Oh, those little plaid skirts, crisp white blouses, flirty sailor bloomers, restrictive ties, childlike knee socks and other school uniform accoutrements! How they stir feelings of arousal, nostalgia, innocence, sweet frustration (aka “tease and denial”) and titillating naughtiness in the uniform wearer (who could be female, male or transgender) and the partner (who might “play” a teacher, dominant disciplinarian or other school authority), as well as the schoolgirl uniform-loving voyeur.

Our dear friend Master D, prominent dominant in LA’s BDSM scene and grandson of Australia’s late legendary nightclub king, Abe “Mr. Sin” Saffron, has been a passionate fan of the schoolgirl look since he himself was a schoolboy.  So on the occasion of his 40th birthday, I dressed up as a sexy “head mistress” schoolteacher (complete with short houndstooth plaid skirt, professorial sweater, Sex Week at Yale hat and thong) and transformed the Womb Room into a College of Carnal Knowledge filled with a dizzying array of short plaid skirts, Spongebob shirts, raging hormones, various corporal punishments and lessons in love.  Tonight’s standardized test: LAPDANCING.  Pay attention or get spanking detention!

Note: Though there are indeed actual “schoolgirls” in attendance for the festivities, they are all college or post-graduate students over the age of 18.  By putting on this schoolgirl-themed show and party, we are in no way trying to encourage or “play into” society’s eroticization of underage girls. We are just responding to it—since we can’t help but be affected by it—by outfitting grown women (and men) in the titillating garb that so many twisted cultures around the world encourage us to desire but forbid us to (more…)

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by Dr. Susan Block

This year marks the golden anniversary of Deep Throat—the erotic, ironic, iconic 1972 movie that, for many, personified the Sexual Revolution in America.

Deep Throat gave the world a taste of Porno Chic with a Big Gulp of Free Speech, followed by a bubbly chaser of U.S. politics mixed with presidential scandal, spiced with make-love-not-war fervor, spliced with sex-positive feminism and diced with pungent controversies; leaving a complex aftertaste that still lingers five decades later.

It’s all shaken up into a flavorful 50th anniversary tasting tour courtesy of Gerard Damiano, Jr. and Christar Damiano, devoted son and daughter of Deep Throat auteur/director Gerard Damiano. The world tour honors their father’s seminal (in every sense of the word), cinematic creation-cum-pop culture sensation that shocked and seduced the nation—not always in that order.

Director’s cut screenings have been playing throughout this golden anniversary in theaters, festivals, clubs and other venues around the globe.  All of Deep Throat’s quirky scenarios, jingle-happy soundtrack and explicit, unexpurgated sex scenes in their full-on, glorious, notorious, 4K-restored clarity and color can be seen on the big screen once again.

Down the hatch!                            

Not that it all goes down easy or creamy. Some aspects of Deep Throat are tough to swallow.

This is, after all, the movie that launched a thousand protests—ranging from the raging Religious Right to the anti-porn feminist “Left,”  from Chicago Sun-Times film critic Roger Ebert to Memphis, Tennessee’s “smut”-smiting prosecutor Larry Parrish, from “liberal” New York City Mayor John Lindsay to “conservative” U.S. President Richard M. Nixon, as well as the FBI, the NYPD, Charles Keating, the Meese Commission and many more. Over the years, a myriad of people, organizations and political movements have tried to shut down, shut up and choke off Deep Throat.

Talkback or Pushback

That’s one reason why the Damianos arranged post-screening “talkback” panels at every venue, featuring experts of different kinds from Golden Age adult stars to leading-edge “intimacy coordinators.”

I was honored to accept their invitation to moderate the panels at the two Los Angeles venues, though moderating a discussion about something so immoderate as Deep Throat has its challenges. I brought my riding crop just in case I needed to discipline a panel member (kidding—I just brought it for fun).

Having broadcasted shows live from “The Deep Throat Sex Scandal” (the play) and “Harry Reems Tribute” in 2013, and having been interviewed for the E! True Hollywood Story’s “Linda Lovelace” episode in 2000—AND having actually seen the movie in a theater circa 1978—I felt prepared. Little did I know how deeply we would go into the sometimes bizarre, controversial and socially significant qualities of Deep Throat.

The first LA screening was held at the venerable, old Laemmle Royal Theater in West LA, and the second at the kink-positive, new 910 WeHo center in West Hollywood, owned and operated by the courageous and congenial Tom Hoffman.

There was supposed to be a third, the Frida Cinema in Santa Ana. However, controversy reared its scandalous head as the Frida canceled its scheduled screening just over a week prior to showtime due to outrage expressed by anonymous “community” members. The reaction was so “swift and severe” that no amount of “talkback” would moderate the “pushback.” Or so said Management—that is, the same person who had originally, and quite enthusiastically, scheduled the screening—as they apologetically but resolutely canceled it.

Funny how censorship, bans, complaints, deactivations and cancellations are so often based on anonymous outrage.

However, the show must go on, and on it went at the two remaining So Cal venues, with flash and panache, as befits the subject. Swinging Seventies nostalgia was in the air. Golden Age porn stars, most of whom had worked with Damiano and all of whom adored him, strutted across the red carpets, including Nina Hartley, Veronica Hart, Amber Lynn, Christy Canyon, Keisha, porn power couple Luc Wylder and Alexandra Silk (who are also making a film about the tour), “Naked John,”  Golden Age porn star/director Gloria Leonard’s granddaughter Nai’a, and the legendary Herschel Savage.

Sadly, though Mr. Savage seemed ageless at this event, he passed away suddenly just four months later. Star of another classic, Debbie Does Dallas, (graphic descriptions of which helped make Ronald Reagan’s “Meese Commission” Report a best-seller), as well as the lesser-known Satisfiers of Alpha Blue, directed by Gerard Damiano, Herschel was a trained Broadway actor who studied with renowned Stanislavski “method” teachers, Uta Hagen and Stella Adler, before doing Debbie, and he went on to become one of the world’s first and biggest porn stars.

RIP Herschel Savage, née Harvey Cohen, November 25, 1952 – October 8, 2023. 

However, that night a very much alive and wisecracking Herschel joined the rest of us to commemorate one of the most groundbreaking American films ever made… which happened to be about blowjobs.

Of course, Deep Throat was (and still is) not just “about” blowjobs. It also actually showed these blowjobs, as well as cunnilingus, doggy-style, reverse cowgirl, orgies and more—close-up!—on the big screens of major movie theaters throughout the greater U.S. of A.

Talk about a cinematic sexual revolution!

Many audiences were thrilled to partake in an adults-only group sex–watching experience that—with the right crowd—was like a rock concert, love-in and midnight screening of The Rocky Horror Picture Show (to be released a few years later in 1975) combined, creating a palpable sense of “communal ecstasy”… with a hat tip to the late great Barbara Ehrenreich’s not-so-kinky concept of “collective joy.”

No, Deep Throat wasn’t as spiritual as Woodstock (1969), though you could say they were both “dirty”… in different ways.

Of course, other Deep Throat audience members (perhaps with the wrong crowd) were more shell-shocked than thrilled, wondering what in hell they were watching… genitalia as big as a house?!?

Well, a tiny house; but still, this was big-screen, wide open-to-the-public entertainment, and the public ate it up like ice cream after a tonsillectomy.

Make Porn Not War

From the movie’s initial release in 1972 to its vast dissemination in ’73, through Watergate and the socially liberal Jimmy Carter years, right up until the invention of the VCR in the late seventies that led porn out of the big theaters (and even most small theaters) and into private bedrooms, the 1970s was the decade of Deep Throat.

It was “the film that brought the country to its knees.”  Whether you loved it or hated it, even if you’d never seen it, everyone knew—and still knows—“Deep Throat.”

It was so popular, so catchy and so outrageous, “Deep Throat” became a household term. Whether or not the people in these respectable, middle-class households actually saw the flick or practiced the act is unknown. What is known is that the words “Deep Throat” penetrated their consciousness via their trusted late-night companion Johnny Carson’s winking wisecracks, the insider patter of Truman Capote and breathless glimpses of Jackie O, not to mention Martin Scorsese, Barbara Walters and Frank Sinatra (not-so-discreetly) slipping in and out of a Pussycat Theater for an afternoon screening. Rowan and Martin’s Laugh-in laughed about it. Ralph Blumenthal of the New York Times dubbed it “porno chic,” and “Deep Throat” became a part of the lexicon. Everyone wanted to experience it, wear it, practice it, or at least see what it was.

Whether or not it was the flagship film of the Sexual Revolution, Deep Throat was a cinematic symbol of erotic liberation. Americans were coming out of their fallout shelters as well as their closets. People—especially young people—wanted to make love, not war.

“It was the Age of Aquarius,” Herschel recalled on our Laemmle panel, “People wanted to be free, and Deep Throat was a part of being free.”

How’s that “freedom” going these days?  “Well,” Herschel confessed, “as fast as we moved forward, we’re now being pulled back, so people really can’t be free.”

Watergate’s “Deep Throat” swallows Tricky Dick

It wasn’t just Free Lovers and hipsters who made this little low-budget skin flick a sensation. Even cranky conservatives like Bob Hope joked about it: “I thought ‘Deep Throat’ was a movie about a giraffe.” Cue the eyeroll.

And then, most historically, there was politics. In an effort to court and spark his precious “silent majority,” U.S. President Richard M. Nixon—as conservative as Bob Hope with an equally extravagant nose for “smut” (rhymes with slut)—vowed to go after the scourge of pornography, embodied by Deep Throat.

However, Nixon’s anti-porn crusade didn’t kick off as planned. In fact, his own Presidential Study on Obscenity and Pornography found that smut actually didn’t do much harm to adults. So, Tricky Dick declared the report “fake news” (or its 1970s equivalent) and pronounced the committee (mostly Lyndon B. Johnson appointees) “morally bankrupt.” He chose a new committee leader: prominent Catholic, pro-censorship, anti-smut crusader and “Citizens for Decent Literature” founder Charles Keating—his reputation as a censor to be later eclipsed by his conviction as a swindler.  

Then, in a sublime stroke of cultural karma, Washington Post managing editor Howards Simmons is said to have chosen “Deep Throat” as the codename for the Watergate informant who provided “deep background,” later revealed to be Assistant FBI Director Mark Felt. As described in All the President’s Men, Watergate’s “Deep Throat” exposed Nixon for being a common criminal (in addition to being a war criminal, like most U.S. Presidents), forcing him to resign in disgrace.

More than a few holes have been poked into Bob Woodward and Carl Bernstein’s made-for-Hollywood Watergate story, but one fact remains:

Tricky Dick tried hard to shut down Deep Throat, but “Deep Throat” shut down Tricky Dick.

Or you could say, it swallowed him up.

Sexual Freedom Song

No doubt, Deep Throat was as integral to early 1970s American pop culture as tie dyed bell bottoms, peace signs, The Joy of Sex, hippies, Yippies and Andy Warhol. But it was deeper than that. Out of Deep Throat arose a voice of sexual freedom, ringing like the Liberty Bell through the conformist, conservative, Eisenhower era fog, a clarion call to sexual revolution, revelation, exploration, recreation (as opposed to procreation), sharing, healing, fun and love—in the midst of a blatantly horrible war. Through movie theaters, courtrooms, bedrooms, ballrooms, backrooms and in the highest halls of American justice, it rang and sang its make-love-not-war freedom song.

For 50 years (and counting), that song of sexual freedom has been celebrated, followed, employed and enjoyed, as well as challenged, strangled, suppressed and repressed, but it was never completely silenced.

Other Damiano films, like The Devil in Miss Jones (which Roger Ebert actually liked) may be more artistically refined, but Deep Throat was a zeitgeist phenomenon. It was also a porno miracle. Here was a little $24,000 shoe-string skin flick made at Miami’s Voyager Inn Motel playing to packed houses in some of the biggest theaters in the country, grossing $400-600 million. Its exact profits (of which the Damianos barely saw a dime) are shrouded in mob-imposed mystery, but in a capitalism-driven movie industry where bigger is better, Deep Throat was HUGE.

Deep Inside Deep Throat

Deep Throat’s surprise success made an overnight sensation out of its leading lady, Linda Lovelace. The original “girl next door,” Linda played a sexually liberated, but orgasmically frustrated, woman whose psychiatrist—the great and hilarious Harry Reems as the quintessential white-coat parody, “Dr. Young”—discovers that her clitoris is located in her throat.

The good doctor then helps her to pinpoint it—in the interests of medical science and his patient’s relief, of course—with his dick. Like I said, it’s all about blowjobs.

It’s also a comedy. Linda’s oral technique may have been gag-free, but the film spouts more silly gags than a second-string Catskills comic. The running joke of Deep Throat is that a conventional male sexual fantasy that absurdly distorts women’s physiology in service of the ultimate male climax is actually real… at least in this one amazing woman.

The Kinsey Report, it wasn’t.

Nevertheless, Deep Throat did teach a lot of sexually clueless adults that women are capable of experiencing big, bell-ringing orgasms, usually via stimulation of the clitoris—which is never in the throat, but which can be difficult for the uneducated male novice—or even sometimes the female herself—to locate.

Moreover, for a film called “Deep Throat,” it certainly features a lot of cunnilingus, much more than most porn in the 1970’s… or in the 2020s for that matter. You can tell director Damiano had a real taste for the hitherto barely seen mysteries of the vulva.

Back then, porn was almost all made by “a handful of white men… for other men,” Gerard Damiano, Jr. pointed out on our 910 WeHo panel. Nowadays, adult material is far more diverse, much of it made by women, LGBT folks, people of color and all ethnicities and from many religious backgrounds (though most are “lapsed”), and across the full political spectrum.

Porn is watched by an even more diverse audience—from the amorous atheist to the devoutly religious, from the erotically educated to the sexually ignorant. Since Deep Throat opened, porn has become ubiquitous.

On the surface, Deep Throat was a movie about blowjobs—almost a “how to.” As Harry Reems’ Dr. Young patiently instructs, “Relax your muscles… Regulate your breathing to the movement of your head. “ But when you delve a little deeper (so to speak), it’s also about honoring recreational—as opposed to procreational—pleasure; your own, as well as the pleasure of others.

Consider the fact that the title activity—one of the more popular and “intimate”  recreational-not-procreational pleasures—was illegal in many states, even in private (until Lawrence vs. Texas in 2003), let alone on the big screen.

The growing Religious Right considered oral sex  to be “sodomy,” forbidden by God, even though 20 years before Deep Throat, the Kinsey Reports had found that about half of married women and over 60% of men had experienced oral sex (giving or receiving), and the great majority said they enjoyed it. By the 2010s, according to the National Survey of Family Growth, that number rose to 83% of men and 82% of women (married or single). 

Erotic historian Camille Paglia attributed the 1970s rise in oral activities to seeing Deep Throat. “They saw it demonstrated on the screen, and all of a sudden it was on the map,” says Paglia. “Next thing you knew, it was in Cosmo with rules about how to do it.”

It’s also perfectly natural; our bonobo ape cousins love oral pleasures—maybe more than PIV (penis-in-vagina) sex—and so do many other nonhuman animals, such as dogs, cats or really any creature with a tongue.

Spoiler Alert: One of the film’s most memorable oral sex jokes is uttered by Linda’s roommate, played by Dolly Sharp, aka Helen Wood, another Broadway performer moonlighting in porn. Dolly lights a cigarette while perched on the back of a couch with a young man’s head bobbing between her open legs. She then looks down and inquires, “Mind if I smoke while you’re eating?”

But Deep Throat is more just than a mouthful; it’s about the sexual healing needed by all of the characters: patients, nurse and doctor. A new spin on the age-old medical fetish, the film implies that sexual healing reduces tension and violence in humans—just as it actually does among bonobos.  

Deep Throat also played a pivotal role in defining and defending America’s kinkiest founding principle, “the pursuit of happiness.” Indeed, the story of Deep Throat is that of a woman’s pursuit of her own erotic happiness.

Of course, that happiness is seen through the “male gaze.” Besides its auteur/director and mobster producers, Deep Throat was also shot by a man: Brazilian-born, crossover cinematographer, João Fernandes, aka “Harry Flecks.” However, from Linda’s opening drive (in Damiano’s own 1970 Fleetwood El Dorado Cadillac that Harry Reems drove from New York to Miami for the shoot) to her climactic ending, Damiano tried to present a woman’s point of view, which was rare in porn at the time. He even hoped women might want to watch his film—which was also rare. In that endeavor, he succeeded beyond his wildest celluloid dreams.

Not only did women watch Deep Throat, it was considered a hot “date movie” that many couples enjoyed together, breaking or at least bending the old sexist porno patterns… and other patterns.

In its own way, Deep Throat undermined misogyny, violence, hypocrisy, humorlessness, slut-shaming and other kinds of sexual shaming. It supported sex-positive feminism (before that was even a term), and the lovely and talented Linda Lovelace was its poster girl.

Linda Lovelace: Feminist or Victim?

But alas, all was not as it seemed (is it ever?). Years later, Linda published a book (her third) entitled Ordeal. It was 1980. Rhinestone Cowboy Ronald Reagan was riding his reactionary Republican horse into the White House, and the integration of Church and State, along with the repeal of the Sexual Revolution and (eventually) the rollback of Vietnam Syndrome (that glorious natural aversion to war) was underway.

Times had changed. Porno was not so chic.

In her seemingly unassuming way, Linda assumed the position at the forefront of the anti-porn movement. Through Ordeal, she revealed that she suffered traumatic physical and emotional abuse, first from her mother, and then more severely at the hands of her ex-husband Chuck Trayner. Also acting as her “manager,” Chuck sounds like he was a cuckold who liked the race but couldn’t handle the pace… or his own jealousy.

According to some, Chuck the Cuck craved the cash and excitement of pimping his wife out in porn (having already done so in other, far less savory venues), but he also resented the star power and freedom from his control that Deep Throat gave her.

After Linda Traynor became Linda Lovelace, she divorced Chuck and got involved with choreographer David Winters who produced the parody Linda Lovelace for President (1975) with X and R-rated versions. It has some so-bad-its-good moments that try to satirize America’s post-Vietnam political system, but it was critically panned and bombed at the box office.

Her crossover dreams crushed, Linda tried to slip out of the limelight. She metamorphosed into Linda Marchiano, marrying cable TV installer Larry Marchiano, had two children and became a Born-Again Christian. It was years later, after her divorce from Larry the Cable Guy, that Linda revealed Chuck’s abuse.

As soon as she asserted her victimhood, Linda became a star again, but a totally different kind. Anti-porn feminists—most notably Gloria Steinem, Catherine McKinnon and Andrea Dworkin—jumped at the chance to cast blame upon the fledgling adult industry for Linda’s suffering, and *helped* her to express her grievances to larger audiences.

At the time, a struggle was re-emerging between opposing schools of feminism. There were the sex-positive feminists, like my mentor, the late great Dr. Betty Dodson, as well as journalist Ellen Willis and former ACLU president Nadine Strossen. And there were the anti-sex feminists like McKinnon, Dworkin, Steinem and Women Against Pornography, a.k.a. WAP, which, ironically, was pretty much the opposite of Cardi B’s WAP.

Taking Linda Lovelace (now Linda Boreman) under their wing, WAP rebranded this former poster girl for the Sexual Revolution into a poster girl for the dangers of porn. What better way to prove your righteous cause than by converting the leading lady of the most famous adult movie ever, Deep Throat, to your anti-porn crusade? The mainstream media ate it up, this being their favorite kind of sex story—one accompanied by a hefty dose of horror.

Suddenly Linda was famous again. But this time, no one called her a slut or a whore (at least not openly). They called her a victim of porn.

Of course, Reagan’s neo-Puritan posse jumped on the new “Linda Lovelace: Porn Victim” bandwagon. Indeed, they took the reins. In 1986, Reagan’s Attorney General Edward Meese brought Linda before Congress to testify about the evils of porn for his Meese Commission on Pornography. The Meese Report itself was criticized greatly for its shoddy research, lurid quality and reactionary recommendations.

Nevertheless, Linda’s apotheosis as the anti-porn avenging angel was complete.

Was Linda Abused On Set of Deep Throat?

Linda never said she was abused on the set of Deep Throat, but she did say Chuck privately abused her off-set. Thanks to McKinnon and Dworkin’s (and Meese’s) spin on her tragic story, it looked—and still looks—to many who don’t know the full, complex tale, as if Deep Throat was responsible for the abuse of Linda Lovelace Boreman.

According to Gerard, Jr., who spoke at length on this subject at both of our panels, the opposite was true. Linda was a victim of “domestic violence” at the hands of her husband, including at least one harrowing night in their room at the Voyager. “From all accounts,” says Gerard, “he was a real asshole.” Chuck even admitted to hitting Linda, and both said they were in a consensual BDSM relationship (though it doesn’t seem to have been “affirmative enthusiastic consent” on Linda’s part). Chuck had also arranged for Linda to perform in some extreme film loops that included illegal acts long before the couple had even met Gerard Damiano.

However you spin it, asserts Gerard, Jr., Linda was not abused on the set of Deep Throat, and no witness has ever said that she was. He and his sister Christar should know as they were actually at the Voyager Motel during the filming, though they were never on set; they were just kids.

Based on what they did know, the Damianos feel that Linda found freedom, along with a big bounce in self-esteem, in making Deep Throat. There was no “intimacy coordinator” on set; they didn’t even have a makeup artist. Nevertheless, Linda was treated like a star with a special “talent” by the cast, crew and eventually millions around the world.

But fame is often double-edged. At the Laemmle, Gerard mused that due to Linda’s tremendous and rather sudden Deep Throat success notoriety, she was sexually shamed, even as she was showered with honors. So, she longed for a post-porn “normal” life… which turned into an anti-porn life.

Soon enough, however, her love affairs with anti-porn feminism and Born-Again Christianity cooled down. On a side note, it’s always interesting (and infuriating) to see the ways in which these two seemingly opposite movements manage to find so much in common when it comes to sex.

No longer courted or controlled by Reaganites or feminists, Linda revisited her abandoned adult entertainment career on her own terms (or tried to), posing as an erotic model and selling her signed posters at porn memorabilia shows. In our 910 WeHo panel discussion, Veronica Hart recalled that Linda’s agent called an adult video company where she worked, attempting to arrange for Linda to star in more XXX films. “Thank you, but we’re not interested,” Veronica remembered responding. “I could just see down the line that there would be a book about us. I feel bad about saying this, but some people just have to be the victims… consistently.”

Shortly after that, Linda Lovelace Boreman was killed in a terrible car accident.

Bouncing through life from abused child to battered wife to celebrated porn star to anti-porn feminist/Christian and then back to “porn-lite” modeling just before her tragic sudden death, Linda’s true story is quite complex. It deserves and receives our panels’ careful consideration during the Deep Throat talkbacks, but it does not lend itself to soundbites or memes. As a result, many people (most of whom have never seen Deep Throat) are under the erroneous impression that Linda Lovelace was abused on set and forced to perform nonconsensual sex acts in the film.

Odd and inflammatory details, like a visible bruise on Linda’s leg in a non-sex scene, seem to be smoking guns. And then there’s the actual fake “gun.” Linda alluded to Chuck pointing a “.45 automatic eight shot” at her as she talked on the phone. Based on that, some have extrapolated that he forced her at gunpoint to make Deep Throat, though the Damianos and other witnesses say that is a “baldfaced lie.”

Unfortunately, the fact that the film contains a scene where one of Dr. Young’s psychiatry patients pretends to be a “burglar,” breaks into Linda’s apartment and holds a prop gun to her head (before they fall in bed and in love), has added to this morally panicked perception. “There it is!” the conspiratorially inclined might deduce, “the gun they used to force Linda Lovelace to do Deep Throat!”

“It’s a toy gun!” exclaimed Gerard, Jr., when asked about it at 910 WeHo.

“Nowadays they would never allow a gun, even a prop gun, on a porn set,” Nina Hartley pointed out on our Laemmle panel.

Other porn star memories emerged at 910 WeHo which complicate Chuck’s role as the villain of the story. Amber Lynn recalled that shortly after Linda divorced Chuck, he married and managed the career of the second most popular porn star of the early 70s, and its most famous crossover, Marilyn Chambers. Best known as the “Ivory Snow Girl”—pictured angelically holding a baby on a detergent box, captioned “99 & 44/100s % pure”—Marilyn shocked the clean laundry-lovers when she “crossed over” to star in Behind the Green Door (released shortly after Deep Throat) and Insatiable, among many other X-rated films.

“He was a bossy, kind of ball-buster guy,” remembered Amber, “and he always seemed to have the ability to hook up with the famous legendary superstars of the day.”

“When Marilyn came to shoot with us at VCA (Video Company of America),” recalled Veronica, “the first thing she did was call up Chuck. And the first day of shooting, Chuck was on the shoot to make sure that she was treated well.”

Most #MeToo activists would say that just because a guy treated one woman well doesn’t mean he didn’t abuse another, and they wouldn’t be wrong about that. As Erin Tillman the intimacy coordinator pointed out on our WeHo panel, “people have a right to change their mind.”

“Yes, you can change your mind, but you cannot change the truth of what happened,” Amber replied. “What that person [Linda] did was reckless and it was wrong… and shame on her for doing it.”

In porn or out, relationships are never as simple as a soundbite.

Fetish performer Lux Lives reflected on how “Deep Throat and Linda’s whole journey mirrors the journey of feminism in the second half of the twentieth century…  This is a social problem, from which porn is not exempt. It’s not a porn problem. By blaming porn, you erase all of the domestic violence and consent issues happening in other areas of society, particularly in areas such as politics.”

Now, well into the 21st century, the “social problem(s)” of feminism and sexuality, domestic violence and consent show no signs of letting up.

Uncovering *the truth* about Deep Throat is like trying to pinpoint the meaning of the universe. There are a few facts and factoids, but there are many truths, some of which conflict, which is another reason why this controversial and quirky little porno-that-could is such a durable piece of history.

When Hollywood Supported Porn

Years before I saw the movie, I heard Mike Nichols and Truman Capote joke with Johnny Carson about Warren Beatty and Jack Nicholson defending Harry Reems, the star of Deep Throat, on trial in Tennessee for obscenity.

Obscenity?

Ha! The American War in Vietnam, nuclear weapons and cops killing protestors were the real obscenities to me. In comparison, a pop porno flick seemed harmless, if not chic.

Honestly, that’s how I still feel.

At the 910 WeHo screening, I reconnected with an old friend, Tony-award-winning actor Barry Miller who played Ralph in Fame and Bobby who fell (or jumped?) off the Brooklyn Bridge in Saturday Night Fever, among other great roles. Barry had just turned 18 when he talked his way into Beatty and Nicholson’s famous fundraising party for Harry Reems.

Whether they liked porn or not (and most of them liked at least some of it), Beatty, Nicholson, Miller and friends—such as Gregory Peck, Colleen Dewhurst, Mike Nichols and Ben Gazzara—were eager to defend a fellow actor, figuring it was a slippery slope, and they could be next.

After all, movies were movies. They involved actors performing roles on film, whether it was Deep Throat or Splendor in the Grass—the Oscar-winning Warren Beatty film debut that triggered another unforgettable Damiano title, Splendor in the Ass—starring Nina Hartley!

It was an odd, exciting and rather brief moment in cinematic history when porn was no longer hidden away in an adult “bookstore” and not yet banished to the bedroom, only to be watched in private on a VCR. Deep Throat and a handful of other X-rated films were playing in regular theaters, just like regular Hollywood movies. And if its star could be busted, so could they.

After all, it wasn’t long ago that all actors were considered prostitutes, at least metaphorically, if not in reality.

“Deep Throat was a monumental breakthrough in terms of censorship and sexual freedom,” recalled Herschel Savage.

Meanwhile, its all-too-shallow detractors were determined to make an example of Deep Throat that would shut everyone else’s big mouth. “This is one throat that deserves to be cut,” declared New York Judge Giudice Tyler (presaging Republican Presidential candidate Ron DeSantis’ vow to “start slitting throats” in federal bureaucracy on his first day in power), as he found the defendant guilty.

Judge Tyler’s Throat-slitting decision was soon overturned, however, and Mayor Lindsay’s foiled fantasy plan to “Clean Up Time Square” metamorphosed into fantastic free PR for Deep Throat—not just in New York, but all over the USA.

Inch by inch and town by horny town, Deep Throat began to swallow up the country. It was a family affair… the Columbo Crime Family, that is, along with its offshoot, the shadowy, shady, deadly and remarkably proficient Perraino Gang.

Then it was the FBI’s turn to step in and legally choke off Deep Throat, busting everyone from the Perrainos to the projectionist to Harry Reems, and charging almost 120 people with “conspiracy,” though later giving Damiano and Lovelace immunity in exchange for testimony.

Memphis, Tennessee’s federal prosecutor and Harry Reems sadistic persecutor, Larry Parrish, also happened to be a Born-Again preacher. Parrish cast Reems as an “evil…demon” and scared his congregation—I mean, jury—into giving him a guilty verdict. For the first time in U.S. history, an actor was convicted for playing a role on camera. Lenny Bruce had been prosecuted in the 1960s for live performances by local authorities, but this was the U.S. federal government imprisoning an actor for acting in a film.

With the otherwise odious Alan Dershowitz representing him on appeal, poor, tormented, courageous, fun-loving Harry Reems was eventually acquitted of all crimes. However, his “ordeal” took a tremendous toll on his life and career.

But the film itself had a life of its own. Legal battles were fought all the way to the Supreme Court, even as multiple raids, arrests, theater closings and bans occurred. As soon as one theater was raided, another in the next town would show the film, and the people would line up for blocks to see it.

My First Time

Almost anyone who joined those lines to see Deep Throat in a big theater in the Swinging Seventies has a tale to tell about it.  I was a little too young to see it (legally) when it was released, but thanks to the famed “Deep Throat” Watergate connection, I associated this forbidden film with the celebrated fall of Nixon and the end of the Vietnam War. Mix in my teen crushes on Nicholson, Beatty, Che Guevara and Abbie Hoffman in my maleable mind, and Deep Throat seemed to me to be a vivid part of the “make love” half of the Make-Love-Not-War demonstrations that pushed Tricky Dick into pulling out—albeit messily—from a foreign country that we had no business penetrating.

How exactly “making love” related to making peace, I wasn’t sure. Over a decade later, I found some answers from humanity’s kissing cousins, the bonobo apes, who swing through the trees as well as with each other, and have never been seen killing each other in the wild or captivity. Quite a difference from our war-making common chimpanzee cousins or infanticidal gorillas… or us militant human apes. No wonder they call bonobos the “hippie chimps.”

Bonobos would show me “the Bonobo Way” of making peace through pleasure, female empowerment, male well-being, sharing resources and a kind of ecosexuality that some human hippies were exploring back in the ‘70s. Deep Throat was no hippie movie, but it was definitely in the making love (not war) camp.

So, it was circa 1977 or 78. At the time, I didn’t know bonobos from bananas, but having just managed to graduate from that splendid, gilded jail called Yale, I yearned to swing free—erotically, psychedelically, politically and theatrically. I joined New England Commedia, a troupe of former Yalies and dropouts performing San Francisco Mime Troupe-influenced, anti-nuke, anti-capitalism takeoffs on Molière plays in parks and festivals; sometimes (depending on the festival), wearing nothing but body paint, inspired by the Living Theater. As a “day job,” I taught mime, art and revolution to “inner city” high schoolers, as part of President Jimmy Carter’s CETA jobs program (thanks Jimmy!).

Meanwhile, Vietnam Syndrome was in full flower, AIDs was as yet unknown and the sexual revolution was still swinging, when my date and I took our place in the long line snaking down Broadway and around York Street all the way to the Yale Law School from the local movie theater (the same one where we’d just seen Saturday Night Fever and Star Wars), now playing Deep Throat.

It looked like a fun date movie… and it was! Though not right away. At first, I was shocked. I’d heard about “porno movies,” but never actually viewed one before, though I’d seen some explicit scenes in an “Underground Film” class. I’d also experienced public nudity, from streaking through Freshman Campus to protest the War to acting in our local version of The Bacchae, as well as a fair amount of private sex, but that was usually in the dark, under the covers. Never before had my eyeballs been exposed to such well-lit genitalia filling a giant movie screen. And they were so hairy (except for the shaved Lovelace) and so wet—like something coming out of a jungle in a monster movie! I was flabbergasted that such beasts existed—let alone between my legs.

Soon enough, I relaxed. Some of the dialogue was funny, and the acting wasn’t horrible. The wet, hairy “beasts” turned out to be friendly, natural, human body parts enjoying themselves, and before long, I found myself enjoying this movie with its raw, *shocking* close-up sex, but also characters, jokes, a woman’s search for fulfillment and the enchanting concept of mutual sexual healing.

It wasn’t Saturday Night Fever, or Full Metal Jacket, or even the Rocky Horror Picture Show, but it was better than Star Wars, and it was kinky foreplay for my date—“shock and awe” with collateral orgasms.

And then there was the communal ecstasy. Some screenings might even include audience members spontaneously engaging in sex acts in their seats or the aisles. Lauren Boebert would have been right at home! It sounds corny if you’ve never experienced it (and even if you have), but making out with my date at Deep Throat, as other audience members made out with their dates felt like we were making a euphoric connection with our pre-Neolithic hunter/gatherer ancestors who probably shared this kind of relatively shame-free, bacchanalian activity on a regular (probably seasonal) basis, surrounded by fire-lit cave paintings that seemed to move, a precursor to motion pictures.

Devolution of Erotic Entertainment

Before Deep Throat, almost all X-rated materials were drenched in shame, consumed by the testosterone-soaked “raincoat crowd” stealthily slipping in and out of seedy “bookstores” to sneak a peek at stag films, blue movies, loops and the like.

Deep Throat brought porn out in the open for “the people,” including women and couples, to enjoy, almost shamelessly, in a big room—all together now—with popcorn!

The communal ecstasy was short-lived, however. Within a few years, almost all X-rated content was pushed out of the cinemas and onto VHS tapes, then DVDs, then the Internet. The smartphone took porn out of the public theater—the cultural “commons”—and tucked it under the covers into spaces so private, they’re like solitary confinement (physically and emotionally) and even more steeped in shame.

No more communal ecstasy for you and your neighbors to share. Also, no more art.

Soon, bare profits took precedence over artistic aims, as porn’s stories and characters receded, and the genitalia—now shaved, waxed, tattooed or bejeweled—turned into the real stars of the show.  The physical sex became more extreme, as a hot clip is easier to make and generally sells more than a well-made movie where explicit sex is just part of a larger story. Though it could always come back, Porno Cinema has become a lost art.

As time goes on, fewer of us can remember those “Golden Years” when you could go to a big neighborhood theater to see an X-rated film, and possibly run into your co-workers, your neighbors, your boss or your mother-in-law, and it would be, for the most part, okay. Even sort of cool.

The coolness factor was an issue in both of our panels. On the Deep Throat credits, Gerard Damiano called himself “Jerry Gerard” because he thought that sounded more Hollywood-cool. When Deep Throat became cooler than Hollywood, he used his real name again.

Damiano sincerely believed erotica would get cooler, that porn was part of the revolution, that society would evolve to be more open-minded and loving, and it would become less taboo to see a naked body, to see sex as it is in life—more or less—in the cinema. He felt that eventually porn (as a separate genre) would become obsolete as all adult movies with romantic themes would contain an explicit sex scene or two, kind of like real life.

Of course, that’s not how it turned out; at least, not so far.

“My father would be shocked and amazed to see where we are today,” mused Gerard, Jr. Not only is porn itself not so “cool,” let alone revolutionary; porn isn’t even movies anymore. Capitalism killed porn movies because it’s so much cheaper to slap together what Gerard called “the one-day wonders, three in a weekend, cash in and go home,” making movies which are strictly sex acts, barely movies at all.

Moreover, all sexually explicit material—whether low-budget porn or high erotic art or life-saving sex education—is increasingly demonized by the Religious Right and the Politically Correct Left. Just before the screenings, META deactivated my own Facebook and Instagram accounts without warning, reason or recourse. This is happening to more and more of us every day. I’m taking Zuck the META cuck making mega bucks off our exploitation to arbitration (stay tuned), but the fact is censorship is on the rise again.

At the Deep Throat screening in Vancouver’s Rio Theater, protestors threatened to behead the Damianos and “burn down the theater with us inside of it,” said Gerard, Jr. “Some thought it was some kind of snuff film… and none had actually seen the film.”  This is what you’re up against when you’re born into porn, and you don’t reject your porn-producing parents as Satanic.

Fortunately, the Rio Theater stood firm behind the Damianos, no one was hurt, and the show went on. Ironically, just as the original Deep Throat protests generated media interest and free publicity, so do the current protests.  

Nevertheless, the coolness factor is in remission.

Neo-Puritan Erotophobia

Repression is on the rise. Social media is censoring more and more—and it’s not just pornographic images, but also erotic words, provocative phrases, “fake news” that disturbs the corporatocracy, anything pro-Palestine, controversial opinions and whatever gets you flagged, tips the algorithms or tickles a censor-bot. Books are being banned and burned. Sex educators are being fired and defamed as “groomers.” Sex therapists are being stigmatized and suppressed. Trans people are marginalized, threatened and harmed.  Sex workers are slandered and murdered.  

On the political “other” side, the #MeToo movement, which has done a tremendous amount of good for many women—and men!—has also, in some cases, magnified the anti-porn feminists’ toxic demonization of male desire, including the kind which is depicted so juicily in Deep Throat.

“They’ve been after that movie and everything it stands for, for 50 years,” Nina Hartley observed on our Laemmle panel. “It was just too much for them… it’s called ‘erotophobia’.”  

Now “erotophobia”—an irrational obsessive fear of sex—is again in the vanguard, especially when it comes to playful, recreational sex such as we see in Deep Throat, as opposed to dutiful and even coercive procreational sex like that of The Handmaid’s Tale and Matt Walsh’s wet-nurse dreams. Meanwhile, ammosexual Christian Nationalist House Speaker Mike Johnson’s “Covenant Eyes” are watching you.

As repression rises, so go our rights, especially women’s rights. Less than a year after Deep Throat premiered, the U.S. Supreme Court’s Roe vs. Wade ruling protected Americans’ right to abortion in every state of the union. Last year, the new, “forced breeding” fetish-obsessed Supremes stole that right from us. Now American women are being imprisoned for having abortions.

Clarence Thomas & the Coke Can

Speaking of those slutty-for-the-money Supremes, there’s a scene in Deep Throat that sheds light on an odd allegation against one of America’s most corrupt and hypocritical justices; and, in a broader sense, this country’s swing to the neo-Puritanical right.

Upon my recent viewing of Deep Throat (my first time in almost 45 years), I noticed a peculiar scene where the dark, bubbly contents of a Coca Cola can are poured onto (or into) a rather hairy pubic region, and then sucked up through a long rubber tube. As I observed this bizarre, rather kinky and supremely silly activity, accompanied by a musical soundtrack very close to the actual Coke jingle—used without licensing, yet with no “cease and desist” from Coca Cola (that’s how cool Deep Throat was)—it occurred to me that U.S. Supreme Court Justice Clarence Thomas’ notorious obsession with “pubic hair on a Coke can” (as recounted by Anita Hill from her time working for Clarence in 1981-83), may well have arisen from deep within his libidinous loins upon seeing this scene in Deep Throat!

Indeed, I bet that silly vignette has tormented Clarence “Long Dong Silver” Thomas all these past 50 years; and now he and his bitter erotophobic brethren are getting their neo-Puritanical revenge.

In a sense, they’re all are taking revenge (especially the younger ones now learning history from PragerU) on Deep Throat, sex-positive feminism, the Joy of Sex, contraception, the Hippies, the Yippies, the draft-dodgers, the Flower Children, the Love-Ins, the Streakers for Peace, the Earth Day swingers, the No Nukes marchers and the whole Make-Love-Not-War Countercultural Sexual Revolution that bewildered their parents (and grandparents), enraged their priests and upset their capitalist owners who wanted them to get the hell out of bed and back to work.

And Deep Throat to You All

Damiano almost called it The Sword Swallower, and everything would have been different if he had. But it was Deep Throat that opened 50 years ago, at a time that seems so different from ours; but in basic ways, we’re just the same. We’re still human apes, we still obsess over sex, and we still need love (not war). Though now we’ve got perma war, genocide in Gaza, over 400 million guns in America, and going by the Internet, a lot more hate than love.

When Deep Throat parted its celluloid lips, America was engaged in a personal, sexual revolution that seemed—to some—intrinsically linked to the political, civil rights and anti-war revolution, when a day of protesting against the war in Vietnam might be followed by a night of erotic adventure, perhaps with fellow protesters, endeavoring to practice what we preached, to make love not war.

To paraphrase the meme misattributed to sex-positive feminist, anarchist Emma Goldman, this was a revolution we could dance to.

“Make Love Not War” may no longer be chic, but I still believe in it, as well as try to practice it. I sometimes go with one of my favorite variants like “Make Kink Not War,” “Drop Bras Not Bombs” or “Make Like Bonobos, Not Baboons.” Or, to quote the movie’s happy ending: “Deep Throat to You All.”

Chic, bleak or magnifique, Deep Throat was part of American cinematic, political and sexual history. In a world beset by perma war, murder, mayhem, apartheid and climate catastrophes, sexual history might seem trivial to some. Then again, perhaps if we had found a way to follow through on our natural human impulse to make love not war, we’d be in a very different, more livable world.

© November 22, 2023. Susan Block, Ph.D., a.k.a. “Dr. Suzy,” is a world renowned LA sexologist, author of The Bonobo Way: The Evolution of Peace through Pleasure and horny housewife, occasionally seen on HBO and other channels. For information, call 626-461-5950. Email her at [email protected] and you will get a reply.

Deep Throat Does the Laemmle
PHOTO GALLERY
PHOTOS: JUX LII, RICKEY MORGAN, ABRAHAM PEREZ, MOSE DE PENA, SUSAN BLOCK

Deep Throat Does 910 WeHo
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PHOTOS: JUX LII, RICKEY MORGAN, ABRAHAM PEREZ, MOSE DE PENA, LUIS MENDEL, SUSAN BLOCK

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Length 01:38:59 Date: Nov. 23rd, 2019

by Dr. Susan Block.

With a drum roll of smacks on a Pilgrim’s bottom, we ring in the sacred Week of Spanksgiving 2019 at the little Love Church of the Bonobo Way in the village of Bonoboville.

It’s Our Duty to Spank Booty on Spanksgiving! Photo: Gideon Grayson

Season’s Beatings, Brothers and Sisters, Lovers and Sinners, Puritans and Libertines!

As it’s Thanksgiving, we also chow down.

Bless this Meal! Amen & AWOMEN! Photo: Bianca

This is a very oral show.

Though instead of the traditional turkey and indigestible corn, we lick funfetti frosting off perky nipples in an orgy of sugar, warm flesh and bold, flavorful ideas.

After all, what’s a holiday feast without a little provocative conversation?

So it’s also a very aural show, exploring juicy ideas about sex, religion, abortion, cinema, satire, the Supreme Court, the impeachable Presidunce and the Bonobo Way.

The FemDom & the Filmmakers

We are blessed with a fantastic array of guests, including the return to DrSuzy.Tv of the marvelous Madam Raven Rae, celebrating her birthday and defending her title as “Sexiest Domme” in the SUZY awards, with her new partner/switch/sub, the amiable Kit.

Madam Raven Rae holds her “Sexiest Domme” SUZY award & The Bonobo Way. Photo: Slick Rick

Also joining us for his virgin voyage on the Good Ship Bonoboville is Drew Dammron, the director and star of “Fetus Nation,” a new short fantasy satire film that’s making the rounds of film festivals, and Ella Glabicki, the actress who plays “the mother” in “Fetus Nation,” along with Ella’s boyfriend, Joey Povinelli.

Selfie-ing it up with the “Fetus Nation” gang. Photo: Bianca

Our very own Sunshine is also in “Fetus Nation,” playing a dirt-encrusted hillbilly with a fetus fetish.

In keeping with our Spanksgiving theme on this show, Sunshine is dressed as a pilgrim.

Photo 1: Sunshine McWane. Photo 2: Slick Rick.  Photo 3: Bianca.  Photo 4: Stuart Becker

A very sexy pilgrim.

I personally do not go full pilgrim for this show. But I don a black pilgrim’s hat with a buckle in the front.

Pilgrims, Kinksters & Filmmakers, Oh My! Photo: Slick Rick

Between the hat, the pilgrim-ish platform boots with stiletto heels and buckle-under-the-boobs black slip, I feel like a cross between a BDSM Mistress and a leprechaun.

Is that a fetus in your pocket or are you happy to see me?  Photo: Bianca

It helps me to rise above my Climate Change-generated congestion and deliver my opening like William Branford of Plymouth Colony signing a soon-to-be-broken peace treaty with Massasoit of the Wampanoags.

And did I mention spanking?

Puritan Punishments

Yes indeed, Brothers and Sisters, Lovers and Sinners, on Thanksgiving, let us give thanks, and on Spanksgiving, let us give spanks. Let us spank away the hate, the greed and the fear that divide us, and let us practice the Bonobo Way of peace through pleasure… with a little spanking (consensual adults only, of course).  And let us spank our hands together across a nice warm willing bottom, singing “Oh God!” or “Goddess!” or “Bringing in the Sheaves” in rapture. And let us say Amen and Awomen. Praise be to the power and glory of spanking.

Spanking Pilgrim Booty. Photo: Harry Sapien

It’s our duty to spank booty on Spanksgiving!

Don’t spank helpless children. Do spank consenting adults.

Consent aside, it’s much more likely that our Pilgrim ancestors practiced Spanksgiving than the mythical love-in with cordial Native Americans that we call Thanksgiving. Those Pilgrims and the Puritans who came after them were into Punishment with a capital P.

The pious Puritans relished punishing the Native Americans and each other.

First Spanksgiving, Plymouth Rock. Photo: Bianca

They were especially keen on punishments for sexual sins, and they often punished each other in sadistic, sexually humiliating ways, like publicly flogging transgressors while they were shackled in stocks as passersby threw rotten fruit at them.

This was more than just a low point in American punitive history; it’s the basis for the so-called “Puritanical” attitude that flows from those first settlers on Plymouth rock right up to the sexual hypocrites of modern Evangelism.

Trump Turkey & Nunes Cow

Speaking of punishment, it’s been another long, punishing week of Impeachment Hearings, every witness proving that Trump was trying his Trumpiest to get a personal bribe, a little “baksheesh,” a tip, a political favor, in exchange for the release of U.S. aid.

Spanking the Presidunce’s balls for Spanksgiving while keeping him under gag order with an ear of corn. Photo: Bianca

This is not the worst thing he’s done by far. It’s not even close to caging migrant children, Trump Crime Family nepotism and emoluments, signing SESTA/FOSTA, inciting violence from the craziest of his crazed cult of Trumpsters, denying Climate Change, making the 1% richer than rich with insane tax cuts, lying as often as he opens his big mackerel-like mouth.

This is why we keep our tRump Voodoo Doll under gag order with a dildo or, in the case of this show, an ear of corn.

Madam Raven Rae forcefeeds the Trumpus his Thanksgiving Corn. Photo: Selfie

So no, it’s nowhere near the worst of tRump, but it’s a microcosm of his malignant narcissism and venal criminality.

Moreover, it’s impeachable. It’s also, despite the tedium, occasionally quite comical, especially with tRump’s sourpussed henchman Devin Nunes the Cow chewing the Republican cud getting caught with his udders out in Ukraine, spending $57,000 of taxpayers’ money while trying to dig up dirt on the Bidens for the Trumpus.

Devin “The Cow” Nunes caught with his udders out in Ukraine. Phoro: Bianca

It’s a shitstorm—or a methane cow fart storm.

Between Nunes Cow and Trump Turkey, it’ll give a caring citizen a heart attack.

Or Post-Trump Sex Disorder.

But there’s hope in the hearings, as I say at the opening of this show. The problem is that most Trumpsters don’t watch the hearings. They’re too busy Keeping Up with the Kardashians and Wrestle Mania.

So we don’t know where impeachment will go.

It’s just seems like the right thing to do.

It’s Our 8th Peachy Impeachment Party. Photo: Slick Rick

And that makes it something to celebrate!

So this “Spanksgiving Appetizer” does double-duty as our eighth great Impeachment Party.

I can’t believe she’s swallowing the whole peach!  Photo: Bianca

It’s another excuse to feed each other sweet peaches, dripping with hope.

Not that the Democrats are heroes; most are corporate shills and military fetishists allergic to socialism, sexual freedom or anything that actually helps regular people.

Nevertheless, it’s great that they’re finally holding a hearing into one of Trump’s multiple crimes.

Though the Republicans aren’t treating it like a hearing. They’re not listening—nor are they actually hearing anything—except to game the witness. Indeed, the whole process is more like a football game (or a Gym Jordan wrestling match) than a “hearing,” and they’ll fight for their team to win even if its plays are criminal.

Yalies Storm Football to Protest Climate Change

Speaking of football, the boring old pre-Thanksgiving Yale/Harvard football game has suddenly become exciting—for this non-football fan anyway—as the day of this show, a coalition of Yale and Harvard students stormed the halftime field to protest Ivy League complicity in Climate Catastrophe.

Yalies and their Harvard cohorts storm the . football field. Photo: Bianca

In solidarity, I wear my Yale Bulldog thong on this show, proud of my alma mater’s new social consciousness.

It must be lucky because Yale won the game!

Yale Pilgim Panties for ImPEACHment! Photo: Bianca

Go Bulldogs! Go Bonobos for Climate Change ACTION.

Wonder if they’ll get results and Yale will divest of fossil fuel assets.

Yale Unveiled. Photo: Slick Rick

It’s an important issue for Election 2020; will we piss away these last few years that we could possibly destroy human life on Earth… or not?

America’s Fetus Fetish

In the midst of impending Climate Catastrophe, while some are working to reduce our carbon footprint, others work to increase it with more babies, more consumers, more polluters, more war, more gas-guzzling activity and more restrictions on sexuality, especially female sexuality.

#GoBonobos for wild, uncensored, unrepressed female sexuality! Photo: Bianca

With states passing near-total bans on abortion and a conservative Supreme Court majority poised to ravage Roe v. Wade, reproductive rights are a major issue in the 2020 campaign.

 In Alabama, after a pregnant woman was shot in the stomach during an argument, she was charged with manslaughter of the fetus!

Kinksters and filmmakers. Photo: Bianca

I’m an Anybody-But-Trump Gal (well, I better amend that to not Kanye or Joel Osteen either), but it would be nice to have someone fighting enthusiastically for women’s sexual rights.

And that’s exactly what Bernie Sanders is doing. “If there’s ever a time in American history where the men of this country must stand with the women, this is the moment,” he said at the debate. “And I get very tired of hearing the hypocrisy from conservatives who say, ‘Get the government off our backs, we want small government.’ Well, if you want to get the government out of the backs of the American people, then understand that it is women who control their own bodies, not politicians.” 

Which brings up the questions: Is it “life” that “pro-life” supporters really care about… or something else? They don’t seem to care about children once they’re born: starving children, abused children, caged children or dead children killed in mass shootings.

They care about fetuses!

They also care about their big guns, compensating for their small hands and tiny penises, in that ammosexual way.

But do some of them have a “fetus fetish”?

Many are just cynical hypocritical opportunists, of course. Here’s looking at you, Kanye and Joel. Jesus is King of the Tax Cuts.

“Fetus Nation” Watch Party. Photo: Slick Rick

But some Pro-Lifers—the wild-eyed faithful living on opioids, meth and Chick Fil-A bigot sandwiches— do appear to have a Fetus Fetish; that is, an erotic obsession with the unborn.  It’s like they’re so repressed when it comes to good old honest sex, that they get aroused by the fetus.

I’m not just talking about people who are turned on by pregnant or lactating women, though that’s certainly a distinct genre of the “mommy” fetish.

This is more of a Puritanical passion combined with intense erotic adoration of the unborn and a willful disregard of the pregnant woman as anything but a vessel for the sacred fetishized fetus.

“Fetus Nation,” the Movie

It’s a disturbing and fascinating subject which we explore on this show with the “Fetus Nation” filmmakers.

“Fetus Nation” poster

Drew got the idea to make “Fetus Nation” during the infamous Kavanaugh hearings.

Though Drew’s personal politics are pro-choice, his highly stylized short film explores the complexities involved in getting an abortion, sending up stereotypes from both pro-choice and the pro-life points of view.

Drew Dammron talks about the making of “Fetus Nation.” Photo: Slick Rick

We play an excerpt that begins as our heroine, “The Mother,” played by Ella Glabicki, is recovering from a late-term back alley abortion given to her by a goofy, greedy Groucho Marx-ish doctor, played by Edward Mehler, who leaves the overgrown “fetus” on the table before being whacked by a Bible-thumping Puritan.

Ella Glabicki as the Mother in “Fetus Nation,” having second thoughts about her abortion. Photo: Bianca

We also see a tour de force performance by our own Sunshine McWane as a fetus-fetishizing hillbilly woman, marching around in a trance with other fetus cultists, singing “We love fetuses, we love fetuses, derp-de-derp-de-derp! Derp-de-derp-de-derp!” as she clutches the bloody plastic fetus prop with maternal ardor.

Sunshine clutches a fetus in her breakout role as a dirty hillbilly fetus fetishist in “Fetus Nation.” Photo: Bianca

Considering the fact that “Fetus Nation” is currently not available for viewing anywhere and there is no trailer(!), this excerpt is the only chance you have to see a portion of the film; listen above or watch below.

Drew brings his fetus to Bonoboville, and I try feeding it an Impeachment Party peach. Photo: Selfie

Drew brings the fetus in-studio, and yes, it’s kind of gross, but no, it’s not a real fetus. It’s a prop he picked it up at fetus adoption agency, that is, the aptly named fake body part outlet of Dapper Cadaver.

Sunshine gets that other-worldly look in her eyes as she cradles the dapper little fetus cadaver, with its long, ropey, umbilical cord, in her arms.

Photos 1-2: Slick Rick.  Photo 3: Selfie.  Photo 4: Bianca

To put things into some artistic, historic, perverse context, I show the cover of “Forbidden Photographs” by Charles Gatewood (Capt’n Max published the original first edition) featuring a striking black and white photograph of a real fetus sporting a “heart” tattooed by the notorious Spider Web, 1970s tattoo artist to the stars.

Sunshine holds the Dapper Cadaver Fetus as I show “Forbidden Photographs” featuring Gatewood’s notorious photo of a real fetus(!) tattooed by Spider Web. Photo: Bianca

 After we show the excerpt, Ella talks about how much she enjoyed playing the Mother in “Fetus Nation,” her first cinematic starring role.

Though it didn’t change her already pro-choice politics, it did make her more aware of the emotional complexities and “second thoughts” that can be involved in getting an abortion.

Photos 1-2: Stu Becker. Photo 3: Selfie

Her boyfriend Joey says being in the film had the extra benefit of making her slightly more active in bed.

No doubt, acting is usually an aphrodisiac.

After a day of ardent emoting, the body, mind and soul are often primed for orgasmic release, something spouses and lovers would do well to take advantage of!

Ella likes being child-free at the moment, but acknowledges that she might change her mind in 10 years, when she’s 35.

Different women have different opinions on this very personal, complex issue of if or when to have children. Photo: Bianca

That idea strikes Madam Raven Rae as too old to start having kids.

Different women are ready for biological motherhood at different times, and some are never “ready” (thinking of myself right now); all the more reason they shouldn’t be forced by the state to give birth to unwanted little consumer/polluters.

Both Drew and Ella grew up around Amish people in rural Pennsylvania. The Amish are so strict in most regards, and yet they let their children run around barefoot until they’re ten or twelve, so in some ways, they’re more free, organic and in touch with the Earth.

Drew not only wrote, directed and produced “Fetus Nation”; he co-stars as the “grown” fetus with a shaved head and a very bad attitude.

Hovering Drew. Photo: Bianca

Even though we’re pretty much all pro-choice (unless there’s a pro-lifer lurking on set, not saying anything), we get into a lively discussion about abortion politics and Puritanism, especially appropriate to the Thanksgiving/Spanksgiving spirit.

Happy Birthday Madam Raven Rae!

We’re also catching up with the stunning, striking, commanding and charming Madam Raven Rae, three-time Suzy Award winner for “Sexiest Domme,” here to defend her title, and perhaps pick up another category.

I love Madam Raven Rae. Photo: Slick Rick

Besides being a MILF and a world-class FemDom, Madam Raven Rae is also an artist, photographer, foot fetish queen, spanking mistress and leading DomCon FemDom.

AND she is featured in our new SPANK ‘n’ ART Speakeasy Journal in a scene from two Spanksgivings ago when we spanked and dildo-stuffed the Trump turkey.

Showing Madam Raven Rae stuffing the Trump Turkey two Spanksgivings ago, featured in SPANK ‘n’ ART. Photo: Bianca

She’s been through a lot over the past year or so, between being evacuated from her home in the midst of raging fires of So Cal (for which she, along with thousands, is suing PG&E) and losing a lot of her possessions to smoke damage.

But she looks sexier than ever, as well as happy with her new friend/submissive/switch Kit whose shoulder serves as my boot rest while he rubs his Mistress’ pretty French-pedicured feet.

Resting My Boots on Madam RR’s new beau Kit’s shoulder as he rubs her feet. Photo: Bianca

It’s her birthday, after all, but any day’s a good day to spoil the “Queen of Everything.”

Kit seems cool, and he’s been a fan of the show since our HBO days, so we know he’s got good taste.

Kit has the good taste to feed Capt’n Max’s pasta to Madam Raven Rae. Photo: Harry Sapien

We’re all having so much fun with each other, we forget (again) to invite people to call, but a call comes in from our old friend, political activist and three-time SUZY award winner Chris Gagliardi who catches us up on his life, including a tragic death in his family, his progress at school and his anti-Trump political endeavors, including developing an online manifesto for his fellow travelers on the autism spectrum.

Chris is busy!

Photo 1: Slick Rick.  Photos 2-4: Bianca

As we’re chatting with Chris, in walks Pilgrim Sunshine with Madam Raven Rae’s birthday cake, the candles flickering festively on a collection of rainbow-sprinkled funfetti cupcakes.

“Funfetti” isn’t just fun; it’s Madam’s favorite flavor.

Happy Birthday Madam Raven Rae! Photo: Slick Rick

Like a pro, Chris warbles “Happy Birthday” right over the phone in his very melodious baritone.

Then, with panache, Madam Raven Rae puts her luscious lips together and blows.

Blow Madam Blow! Photo: Slick Rick

Happy Birthday Dear Madam, Happy Birthday to Yoooou!

Birthday Spanksgiving

But this is not *just* a birthday; it’s almost Spanksgiving.

Pilgrim Sunshine takes Madam’s Birthday Spanking. Photo: Slick Rick

Both occasions are actually good opportunities to give spankings.

Of course, Madam RR will give *her* birthday spanking to someone else.

And who better to spank for Spanksgiving than a naughty Pilgrim?

First, Madam Raven Rae lifts Sunshine’s voluminous faux Pilgrim skirt.

Madam Raven Rae’s got rhythm, and Sunshine’s got the red buns to prove it! Photo: Gideon Grayson

Then she plays butt-bongo on her bottom.

Sunshine’s fellow “Fetish Nation” cast members look on with avid curiosity.

However, when I offer them the opportunity to spank or be spanked for Spanksgiving, they politely decline.  

Like most Pilgrims, they prefer to be voyeurs!

Just a Spanksgiving Appetizer for a hard ass like Kit. Photo: Bianca

Though Kit volunteers to be spanked, and he likes it “hard.”

Kit has a tougher ass than our sensitive Pilgrim Sunshine, plus he keeps his pants on.

Madam Raven Rae wallops him with a SPANK ‘n’ ART, then a riding crop and a paddle, but it’s no more than a tickle to Kit.

Funfetti Frosted Nips

Then it’s time for a different kind of licking.

Pilgrim’s Progress. Photo: Slick Rick

Let them eat cake!

The Birthday Madam gets the first bite, of course… or first licks.

Photos 1-2: Slick Rick.  Photo 3: Bianca

Because this is Bonoboville, she eats her cake from Sunshine’s nipples.

Both nipples. No skimping for our Madam.

Finger Fetish? Photo: Bianca

Sunshine exclaims that Madam Raven Rae is the “best nipple licker” yet, and between other birthdays and Bonoboville Communion, she’s had a few.

We might have to give our “Sexiest Domme” another SUZY award.

Lust at First Lick. Photo: Bianca

She certainly does a thorough job of licking up every funfetti rainbow sprinkle.

Then it’s time to wind up the show, though we extend the Impeachment Party.

Photo 1: Slick Rick. Photo 2: Selfie.  Photo 3-4: Bianca.

After the live broadcast, the Birthday Queen opens her presents.

Perfect Domme Gift: 100 Ways to Get Revenge. Photo: Bianca

Being a true Domme, she especially appreciates a little “Revenge” game I give her.

From what I know she’s been through this past year, it’s seems the perfect gift.

Ella eats a peach. Photo Bianca

Peaches all around!

Birthday Splosh

Then it’s time for champagne and Capt’n Max’s perfect pasta.

Spanksgiving Pasta & Peaches for Impeachment. Photo: Selfie

Everybody wants the recipe, though no one can make it like Max.

But what about birthday cake for me and Sunshine?

Photos 1, 4, 5: Harry Sapien.  Photo 2: Sunshine McWane.  Photo 3: Selfie

Upon hearing that the people are hungry, the benevolent Birthday Queen and Goddess of Spanksgiving luxuriously leans back on the tiger print sheepskin rug, thereby turning it from a punishment platform to an altar for worshiping her sacred flesh, with frosting.

Photos: Harry Sapien

Yum!

She stretches out her long, athletic, bare legs, hovering magisterially over her birthday cupcakes.

Photos: Harry Sapien

Then she graciously doffs her top to reveal her perky boobs.

Feeling like a pastry chef, I apply the famed funfetti frosting from the cupcakes to both delectable nipples.

Pasty Chef or Pastry Chef, I’m taking a taste! Photo: Harry Sapien

Actually, I guess I’m more of a “Pasty Chef” than a Pastry Chef.

Splosh!

Then Sunshine and I each take a frosted breast of Madam, and we chow down like starved Pilgrims at the first Thanksgiving.

We do this in the most sensual, worshipful and—dare I say—thankful way.

Thanksgiving Banquet. Photo: Harry Sapien

Yum, Yum, Yum!

Sunshine is so inspired, she ties her Pilgrim bonnet around Madam Raven Rae’s head.

Then Madam really is a human Thanksgiving.

Pilgrim’s Pleasure. Photo: Harry Sapien

It’s certainly delicious foreplay for my private Spanksgiving with Capt’n Max.

That and the steroids (prescribed to combat the congestion, but also make me a little horny) make for great holiday conjugal relations.

Pilgrims in Lust. Photo: Selfie

Happy Thanksgiving Brothers and Sisters!

Don’t overeat, and don’t skimp on the orgasms.

See you on Spanksgiving and Impeachment Party #9 next Saturday.

Have a Rosy-Cheeked Spanksgiving! Photo: Selfie

© November 24, 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.

Need to talk? Sext? Webcam? Do it here. Have you watched the show? No? Feel the sex. Don’t miss the Forbidden Photographs—Hot Stuff, look at them closely here. Join our private social media Society. Join us live in studio 😊. Go shopping. Gift shop or The Market Place. DrSusanBlock.tv, real sex TV at your toe tips. Sex Clips Anyone? FASHION, we have fashion! We also have politics. Politics? Have you Read the book? No? How about the Speakeasy Journal? Click here. Ok, how about some free sex advice?

Kink Month 2 in Bonoboville. Selfie

Length 1:36:14 Date: October 8, 2016

 by Dr. Susan Block

On the 8th night of Kink Month in Bonoboville, we up the ante in the art of pain.

My special guests are kinky artist/dominas Sheree Rose and Rhiannon Aarons and dazzling pro-domme Mistress Porcelain Midnight, all specialists in erotic pain infliction and management.

It’s a FemDom fiesta of Bonobo Way book–spankings, boobalicious Bonoboville Communion, hot medical play talk, sadism, masochism, domination, submission, erotic politics and performance art. It’s also a female-empowered response to Trump’s latest dump that’s set off a stink bomb in an already noxious election season with this pumpkin-headed man-baby’s pride in nonconsensually groping women “like a magnet…I don’t even wait… I just… grab ‘em by the pussy.”

Demonstrating Trump’s short fingers “grab[bing] ’em by the pussy” on the Wondrous Vulva Puppet. Photo: Zane Bono

Blech! And ouch. Just the thought of Trump’s tiny hands grabbing an unwilling vulva like a rat snatching somebody’s sandwich makes folks on both sides of the aisle want to vomit. Calling it “locker room talk” insults locker rooms. Not only does it brag about disgusting, borderline criminal behavior, it—along with Trump’s diehard supporters—represents the desperate, dangerous and, yes, “deplorable” backlash to pro-sex feminism. It’s as if he’s saying, “If you ladies want to enjoy sex and look hot, then alpha assholes like me will assault you.” Taking it to the next level, I can just imagine Trump’s veep, the sanctimonious Mike Pence, using this gross gaffe as an excuse to take away women’s rights in the name of “protecting” our “virtue” from rabid gropers like his running mate.

FemDoms and lovers of Kink Month II 2016 on DrSuzy.Tv. Photo: Jux Lii

A far superior response to Trumpishness (now synonymous with oafishness) is the FemDom movement, which is older and somewhat wiser than the Feminist movement, ancient as Mother Earth Herself, yet just now coming out from underground in an explosion of female-empowered erotic art and sheer sexual shamelessness. All of this is well-represented by my guests on this show, as well as recent revelations about the deeply FemDom culture of our close genetic cousins, the bonobos apes.

Kinkstars #GoBonobos for Kink Month ! Photo: Heberto Ferrer

Tying it all together with a nice kinky bow, all of my FemDom guests go bonobos in the Womb Room, each in Her own special way.

Kink Month II crew. Photo: Abe

Ms. Sheree Rose

It’s a special treat to welcome renowned kinky performance artist Sheree Rose back to DrSuzy.Tv after almost 20 years.  Our connection goes back even farther, to somewhere around 1987, when I produced “The Heart & Dagger Poetry Show” at Scott Kelman’s Pipeline Theater. One of the featured poets was the late great Bob Flanagan, Sheree’s partner, creative collaborator and beloved slave. I remember our publicity photo with all the poets smiling or brooding, as per their persona, except Bob who wore a ball gag.  I’d never seen anyone in a ball gag before, but he made wearing one seem perfectly normal and fun. Plus, he was genuinely nice, much nicer than the other poets (no offense, guys!), maybe because of the ball gag, not to mention his ongoing battle with cystic fibrosis, the disease that doctors predicted would kill him in his teens, but strengthened him to be one of the twentieth century’s greatest masochistic performance artists.

Renowned Artist and Mistress Sheree Rose visits Bonoboville. Photo: Abe

Then about 10 years later, just after Bob passed away at age 40, Sheree made her first appearance on DrSuzy.Tv. It was kind of a strange show for me because my mother was in the studio audience that night. Mom, goddess bless her soul, was not very kinky, at least not to my knowledge. And Sheree showed some seriously kinky BDSM imagery of her incredible work with Bob. I guess I was nervous that Mom would either walk out or pass out but, to my pleasant surprise, she enjoyed the show. After all, Mom was an artist, and even though the kinkiest thing she ever painted was a reclining nude, she related to Sheree as a fellow artist. Who knows, maybe Mom had an interest in medical play. She certainly loved doctors.

Sheree the medical player/artist is active as ever, doing performance pieces from London to LA, connecting the dots between sex and art, pain and pleasure, poison and medicine, male submission and FemDom power. “Trump’s just the kind of guy who secretly craves being shit on,” she observes, also likening him to Bill Cosby.

Ms. Rhiannon Aarons

Sheree is accompanied by one of her current collaborators, kinky artist/FemDom Rhiannon Aarons. You may recall our great Presidential Debate between Female Supremacy Party candidate Mistress Tara Indiana and the artist Jeffrey Vallance which was, of course, much more fun, honest and informative than the Dollary Clump Debates. The showdown in Bonoboville was actually their second round, the first occurring spontaneously during Sheree and Rhiannon’s 24-hour art piece, “Philosophy in the Bedroom,” in which the two U.S. Presidential candidates got to live out their fantasy of debating each other while Rhiannon moderated.

Rhiannon Aarons celebrates Kink Month on DrSuzy.Tv. Photo: Heberto Ferrer

In a way, Rhiannon and I go farther back than that… to when she was a high school teenager sneaking out of bed to watch me in “Real Sex” and “Radio Sex TV” on HBO.

Capt’n Max and I always enjoy meeting one of the grown-up “children we helped raise,” and we’re happy to be one of the forces that influenced Rhiannon to explore the wonderful world of erotic art and sexual healing. Among other projects, she and Sheree are launching a Hatchfund campaign for their “Book of Medicine.” Almost half-way through reading The Bonobo Way, Rhiannon is now a fan. She also takes a liking to my cucumber (left over from yesterday’s whirlwind shoot with Mel Magazine), placed provocatively between her bounteous 36Gs. More on them in a minute…

Ms. Porcelain Midnight

The fabulous FemDom sticks my cucumber between Rhiannon’s gorgeous gazangas, first giving the tip a seductive lick, is none other than Mistress Porcelain Midnight, dominant since she was a feisty seven-year-old ordering the neighbor boy to brush his teeth with sewer water.

Mistress Porcelain Midnight. Photo: Heberto Ferrer

Though she got punished for that by her Greek Orthodox church-going elders, she remembers relishing the power of making someone do something, and she knew she wanted more. She got much more, and now she is one of the top dominas in the board of directors of DomCon and in the world.

Licking Mistress Porcelain’s boots. Photo: Zane Bono

To celebrate Kink Month on her first appearance on DrSuzy.Tv, Ms. Porcelain is resplendent in shiny black and red latex, the perfect complement to her truly porcelain complexion, full crimson lips and menacingly studded military cap.

I ask her to model her outfit and high-heeled, lace-up boots as that addictively catchy, Bonobo Way-inspired ditty, “The Kinkster,” by Carmina Formosa, aka [ai], rings through the Womb Room. Modeling turns into boot-licking and then spanking Jacquie Blu, whose butt is already pretty blue from last Saturday’s Kink Month Kick-Off.

T-Back Book Frame. Photo: Heberto Ferrer

Mistress Porcelain gives Jacquie one of the most vigorous and creative Bonobo Way book–spankings given on DrSuzy.Tv (and that’s saying something!), using the paddle-like paperback in all sorts of stimulating and sadistic ways. Read it or get red by it!

Later I sign it for this great bonoboësque FemDom who then uses it to spank another bare bottom, her personal subbie Steven.

Baruch Atah Bonoboville Communion

Of course, Kink Month wouldn’t be kinky without a round of Bonoboville Communion with sweet green Agwa di Bolivia Coca Leaf Liqueur. Though we only have time for one round, it’s a good one, featuring Sheree sucking the sacred salt from Rhiannon’s pendulous yet perky, all-natural mama titties. Yes, she’s a MILF, and Sheree is a one hell of a GILF.

Since we’re smack in the middle of the Jewish High Holidays, a kinky time of year with all that shofar-blowing and suffering for our sins on the “Day of Atonement,” I sing the Hebrew prayer as I sprinkle the salt religiously: “Baruch Atah Adonai Elohenu Melech Ha Titties…” Though we really don’t intend to offend (we’re just grappling with our religious indoctrinations and inhibitions), one blasphemy leads to another, and soon we’re honoring Christ as the ultimate masochist, bringing forth the Jesus Jackhammer Dildo, whereupon Rhiannon quips, “Why did Jesus die on the Cross?… He forgot his safe word.” Ba-da-boom.

Ikkor, Sarah & Capt’n Max

Into this FemDom playground steps hunky Ikkor the Wolf, free-styling his praises of the Goddess. “If I bled as much as you women do every month, I’d be dead,” he admits.

Foot play inspired by Mel. Photo: Heberto Ferrer

More erotic politics ensue with Sarah Bella’s personal Vote No on Prop 60 pitch and Capt’n Max holding forth on the importance of beating Trump (remember, vulgarities aside, the big difference between Hillary and the Donald is whom they would pick for the Supreme Court) and the Trump Bro mentality.

We also give another spanking hot salute to Kink Month and cheers to letting your kink flag fly (and that does not mean nonconsensual pussy-grabbing, Donnie), an aspect of releasing your inner bonobo, as well as supporting the candidates and policies that uphold your rights to do so.

Kink Married People. Selfie

 ADDENDUM:

Thank You, Mistress Porcelain Midnight!, for these Kink Month ROSES … almost as beautiful as You!

© October 9, 2016. 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.

Need to talk? Sext? Webcam? Do it here. Have you watched the show? No? Feel the sex. Don’t miss the Forbidden Photographs—Hot Stuff, look at them closely here. Join our private social media Society. Join us live in studio 😊. Go shopping. Gift shop or The Market Place. DrSusanBlock.tv, real sex TV at your toe tips. Sex Clips Anyone? FASHION, we have fashion! We also have politics. Politics? Have you Read the book? No? How about the Speakeasy Journal? Click here. Ok, how about some free sex advice?

Length 1:26:46 Date: May 9, 2020

by Dr. Susan Block.

Mother’s Day is MILF Day on DrSuzy.Tv, as we continue celebrating Masturbation Month 2020 with two sexy guest MILFs—one of whom lactates and squirts for us—and we say farewell to the great Little Richard, Father of Rock ‘n’ Roll and sex revolutionary for our “Tutti Frutti” times.

Masked up and physical-distancing in the Womb Room. Photo: Harry Sapien

It’s our seventh Bedside Chat of the Coronapocalypse. Inspired by FDR’s Fireside Chats, our goal is to warm you up in times of hardship… as well as heat you up in times of hardness—or wetness.

No partner? No problem!

Remember, it’s the “M” Month.

Hands down (and between your legs); in self-isolation, the best sex is masturbation.

Photo 1: Selfie. Photos 2-5: Harry Sapien

And you know you need an erotic outlet during these bored, frightening, dazed and confusing times.

So quit yapping and get fapping!

Mom and Masturbation

It’s also Mother’s Day—technically Mother’s Day Eve—if you’re tuned in live.

How Mom reacts to our first forays into self-pleasure—whether she punishes, encourages, inhibits or ignores you—has a big influence on our developing sexuality.

I’ve often wondered: How can these apparently opposite celebrations—chaste and wholesome Mother’s Day and wild and whacky Masturbation Month—coexist in the same moon cycle?

It just doesn’t seem right.

Then again, solo sex is almost always the very first erotic activity of our lives. Even in utero, some of us touch ourselves. As babies, if we’re healthy, we play with any part of our bodies we can reach, but our genitals are especially exciting, because of the intensity of sensation.

For better and for worse, our beloved mothers are the ones who often “catch” us at this common pastime—which is really very innocent, albeit freighted with fears and concerns for many people.

Capt’n Max, Capt’n Mom and Me back in 1993. Photo: Steve Block

How Mom reacts to our first forays into self-pleasure—whether she punishes, encourages, inhibits or ignores you—has a big influence on our developing sexuality.

Like most kids, I started playing with myself at around the time I started playing. Fortunately, my own Dr. Spock-influenced mom didn’t punish or even inhibit me for masturbating. But she didn’t exactly encourage me, nor did she ignore my early efforts at muffin-buffin’.

She did warn me to cool it in public–like when she caught me holding the sprinkler under my crotch on the front lawn, or sliding my hand under my skirt during the boring parts of the Passover Seder.

Most likely, she was just trying to keep me from getting arrested, raped, chastised by other adults or thrown in the looney bin (nympho wing). At the very least, Mom’s pragmatic attitude didn’t denigrate my budding sexuality.

She was also, even in those golden olden days, decades before Coronavirus made hand-washing hip, concerned about hygiene.

“Suzy,” she chided, “Your hands are dirty, and it’s clean down there.”

She was right about my hands—probably sticky with peanut butter and jelly, playbox sand or something I’d pulled out of my nose.

More important to my sexual development, I will always appreciate her designation of my ladyparts as “clean.”

She wasn’t George Carlin (“If God had intended us not to masturbate, He—or She—would have made our arms shorter”) or even Truman Capote (“The good thing about masturbation is you don’t have to dress up for it”), but at least Mom had an oddly sex-positive way of attempting to regulate my masturbatory passions. I suppose that’s one reason I’ve taken such great joy in self-pleasure and felt so little shame about it all these years.

If you missed getting Mom a Hitachi this year, there’s always next Mother’s Day. Photo: Jux Lii (taken from his monitor while physical-distancing)

Thank you and Happy Mother’s Day, Mom in Heaven!

 So maybe May being shared by both Mother’s Day and Masturbation Month isn’t really so incongruous.

Then why not take it to the next level and give your Mom a Motorbunny or at least a Hitachi Magic Wand for a Mother’s Day present? One reason that the Hitachi is called a “massager” is so you can give one to your Mom, saying it’s for her back. Rest assured, she’ll know how to use it.

There’s also the even naughtier gift of getting your Mom laid by your best friend (or some reasonable facsimile). Though Barbara Scott, as played by Kay Parker, in Taboo, might appreciate that, it’s more likely to spring from the erotic theater of the mind of a son with a Mom fetish. Like Justin Timberlake and Andy Samberg in Motherlover, but serious… or at least, seriously fantasizing.

Lots of guys, some gals (but mostly guys) and many gender-fluid people, have erotic fantasies about their mothers. Freud even came up with a name for the syndrome: the Oedipus Complex. If their ardor is not for their real mothers, perhaps a fantasy mom, an aunt, a special teacher, one of mom’s friends, a “mature” female celebrity or the sexy MILF next door.

Everyone loves MILFs!

National MILF Day is even a thing (though I think it should be international since MILF appreciation is certainly global)!

It’s the Bonobo Way!

Bonobos are not *just* great lovers; they’re also great mothers. And great MILFs (for their girlfriends’ sons).

Speaking of motherhood, May is also National Teen Pregnancy Prevention Month. And what better safe sex method is there for pregnancy prevention than the old five-finger knuckle shuffle?

Another good reason to make love to someone you love this month, and every month, especially if that someone is you.

And don’t forget to wash your hands before you do. Remember what my mama said!

My Mom (before she was a mom).

 Then you can lick your fingers…

 Mother Earth & Her Problem Children

In terms of the Coronapocalypse, the good news is that Quarantine is giving our Great Mother of us all, Mother Earth, a much needed break from the stinky, rotten, massively lethal messes made by her “smartest” and worst problem children.

Let’s chat about our Great Mother who is spanking us all with COVID-19 for making such a mess of her beautiful home (which is also our home)! Photo: Harry Sapien

The forefathers of various religions might punish you for “onanism” (even though the Biblical Onan wasn’t even masturbating; he was just practicing coitus interruptus), but Mother Earth doesn’t mind.

In fact, She blesses us for practicing self-pleasure with easy orgasms.

And who knows… an orgasm a day might keep the Coronavirus away!

The bad news (well, some of the bad news) is that COVID-19 can be transmitted via semen, which experts said wasn’t true a few weeks ago, but now they say it is.

It’s all so confusing!

Not that you could easily have sex in person anyway—unless your dick is six feet long, or you’re using a sex toy on the end of a broomstick.

Masturbation is Ecosexual. We do it with Mother Earth’s blessings. Photo: Selfie

Or you could just masturbate!

Make it interpersonal by having phone sex, camming or sexting.

Want to know more about all of that?

Of course, you do. It’s looking more and more like the future of sex.

Look into my crystal ball… tune into Marabelle Blue’s excellent interview with me on KEM Top Talk radio, where we delve into the ins and outs of masturbation, phone sex and other kinds of virtual sex as well as phone sex therapy and healing your sexual shame…

More good news for Mother Earth: The Trumpus’ poll numbers are plummeting!

More bad news: He’s still our Presidunce, and the American death count is rising, even as this Tyrannical Toddler and his mostly Caucasian cult followers insist on “opening” the country prematurely, bringing back noxious pollution, hurting Mother Earth and sending thousands of “essential” workers (most notoriously in the meat-packing industry) and their family members to their deaths.

Photos: Harry Sapien

Talk about a problem child. This Big Baby-in-Chief definitely has Mommy Issues.

RIP Little Richard, Tutti Frutti Sex Revolutionary

READ IT ON COUNTERPUNCH

Before we open up our Bedside Chat to our fabulous guests, we say farewell to the one and only Little Richard who just left Mother Earth on his way to Rock ‘n’ Roll Heaven.

Not *just* the Father of Rock ‘n’ Roll, Little Richard was also an erotic pioneer for the Sexual Revolution and Gay Liberation… paving the way for many people to embrace their own not-so-straight sexuality.

It was cancer, not the coronavirus, that took the life of the 87-year-old rock music pioneer known to the world as Little Richard.

But Good Golly Miss Molly, it’s still hard to lose such a blessing to our culture, especially when gifted ground-breakers like Little Richard seem to be rarer than ever.

In fact, there was nobody like Richard Wayne Penniman, the dirt-poor dishwasher who transformed himself into the self-dubbed “Architect of Rock ‘n’ Roll.” Yes, his ego was big as his towering hairdo, but he deserved that honor and many more, profoundly influencing the Beatles, the Stones, Elvis, Hendrix, Bowie, Patti Smith, Prince, MJ, everybody!

Not only did he inspire future generations of rock, Little Richard was also an erotic pioneer for the Sexual Revolution and Gay Liberation. I’m no music critic, but as a sexologist, I’d like to credit him with paving the way for many people to embrace their own not-so-straight sexuality.

He called himself “omnisexual” which is pretty much the same as “pansexual,” aka bonoboesque. In other words, he liked everybody. He was married, dated women and loved it when the ladies in his audience threw their panties at him as he performed, but he was also very much into guys. An avid cuckold, he enjoyed watching his girlfriends have sex with other men (which got him busted for “lewd conduct” in Macon, Georgia). Other times, he’d just get it on with the men himself; no girlfriend necessary.

However, Little Richard was a devout Christian whose father kicked him out of the family home for being “gay,” so he struggled with his desires for men throughout his life. He often denied or proclaimed that he’d “conquered” those feelings. Then, a few years or minutes later, he’d confess that he always was and always would be attracted to men.

Interestingly, he never seemed to struggle with what we call “crossdressing”—even making it an aspect of being a successful “crossover” musician in such segregated times. He later opined that his effeminate manner made him seem less of a threat to insecure white men who gave him easier access to “whites only” venues.

Little Richard was the King and the Queen of Rock ‘n’ Roll. His style was aggressively feminine: the bouffant pompadour, pancake makeup, mascara, powder like his beautiful mother used, lots of glitter and flamboyant fashions during a very grey-flannel-suited time when flamboyance was not “in” for any man but Liberace.  Indeed, this was years before Ziggy Stardust touched Earth and decades before Sir Elton donned his sequin shades or RuPaul’s Drag Race was even warming up.

Then there was Little Richard’s first major hit, “Tutti Frutti.” Sounds sweet as candy, but what is it?

When I first heard the song, I felt he was singing about me, “Got a gal named Sue / She knows just what to do.”

Though I had no clue what to do.

“A-wop-bop, a-loo-mop, a-lop-bam-boom” was, apparently, the answer, but what was that?

Years later, I learned the true meaning of the mysteriously tasty Tutti Frutti: anal sex.

The original lyrics he couldn’t record in-studio were “Tutti Frutti, good booty / If it’s tight, it’s all right / If it don’t fit, don’t force it / You can grease it, make it easy…”

So Little Richard was a sex educator too, teaching us how to make sweet backdoor love without force and with a lot of lube.

He wasn’t shy about the centrality of his libido, though he usually framed it with a disarming rhyme. When asked about rockabilly music, Little Richard didn’t miss a beat, “I don’t know about rockabilly, but I been rockin’ willy for years.”

Last but not at all least, Little Richard was a great integrator, bringing black and white people together from their strictly segregated sections of the club, sock hop or concert hall and into the aisles to dance. It was revolutionary, it was very bonobo and it’s the type of revolution we as a society need again and again and right now.

We love you, Little Richard, and we are grateful for all you have done for our sexuality, our culture and to heal the wounds of our bigotry.

Little Richard Rising from the Fire.

Go get that Tutti Frutti Booty in Rock ‘n’ Roll Heaven, Baby!

READ IT ON COUNTERPUNCH

Mom & Domme

Our first guest joining us via Zoom from San Francisco is Avarice Noir, a MILF who also happens to be a FemDom.

Interviewing Avarice Noir, Mom and Domme.

We chat about the challenges of balancing motherhood and sex work in a society that generally doesn’t *see* mothers as sex workers or vice versa.

Fortunately, the Coronapocalypse isn’t hurting Avarice too much.

Even though the John-in-Chief refuses to acknowledge that sex work is work and send COVID-19 relief checks to sex workers, Avarice did receive a check thanks to her “other” job in the food industry.

Of course, one measly $1200 check doesn’t make a dent in a San Franciscan’s expenses, but it’s $1200 more than most American sex workers are getting.

Lusty Ladies Sunshine and Avarice

Avarice Noir met Sunshine (rocking her “Happy MILF Day” tank top) when they were both strippers at the Lusty Lady in San Francisco.

At that point, Avarice’s child was just two, so she was lactating. She even let Sunshine suckle some of the milk from her breast, an experience that Sunshine has never forgotten.

Avarice isn’t lactating anymore, but our lactation conversation leads us to examining the rather erotic depictions of “The Lactation of St. Bernard.”

No, this has nothing to do with big shaggy Alpine dogs.

It’s the tale of a Catholic saint who had a “vision” (which, as a sex therapist, I would call a “fantasy”) that the Virgin Mother Mary squirted her divine breast milk into his open mouth. Some versions have her squirting it into his eye, instantly curing him of some sort of ancient eye infection.

Apparently, this story had a profound effect on Sunshine when she was an art student and studied paintings of the piety-laced lactation-fetish “miracle” in her art history class.

Some depictions show Mary taking a break from nursing the future Savior of Humanity, squeezing her Holy Bosom, a long shimmering arc of Virgin Mother’s Milk flowing forth in lucky Bernie’s direction.

Avarice isn’t currently lactating, but she does show us some of the bondage toys she uses to discipline her clients, including a shiny, sinister-looking cock cage that acts as a chastity device.

It’s kind of an “anti-masturbation” device, she explains, as we discuss Masturbation Month, for those who have a fetish for being frustrated.

Though many submissive men fantasize about a dominant mother or “Domme-y Mommy,” Avarice doesn’t get such requests. Maybe she will when she’s a little older.

When I ask her why she chose the name “Avarice,” which would make a great name for a FinDom (financial dominatrix) as it means “greedy,” she explains that she is not just greedy for money, but for many other good things in life.

Happy Mother’s Day, Avarice!

Avarice shows off her “anti-masturbation” cock cage.

And to all Moms who are Dommes or other types of sex workers: We love and appreciate you all.

TRIGGER WARNING
The following section contains explicit images of beautiful female nudity and uncensored sexuality. Proceed at your own risk (you’ll be glad you did).

Meet The Lebowskis: Bunnie & the Dude

Next up via Zoom is porno couple Bunnie and the Dude.

Bedside Chat with the loving, camming Lebowskis, Bunnie and the Dude, on DrSuzy.Tv

If you like the Coen Brothers’ irreverent cinematic ode to bowling and pedicures, The Big Lebowski, you’ll love The Lebowskis.

In fact when Bunnie met the Dude, one of the many things that drew them together was their love for the 1998 cult comedy.

Bunnie is just as sexy as “Bunny” (no, that’s not a typo; they spell it differently), The Big Lebowski’s title character’s resident sex worker/trophy wife (played by Tara Reid), though a lot more down to earth.

“Will you suck cock for $1000?” I ask Bunnie, referencing one of Bunny’s great lines.

“I’ll just go find a cash machine,” deadpans the Dude, referencing the response of the original Dude (Jeff Bridges).

Momma Mammaries.

While Bunny and the Dude in the movie have an inherently problematic relationship, to say the least, this Bunnie and Dude seem made for each other.

They are the perfect porno couple; exuberant, exhibitionistic, affectionate, caring, in love and in lust.

They’re also funny enough to be a comedy team, but they like Bunnie sex and Dude-ishness too much to derail their home-based porno project.

AND they just had a baby!

This is why Bunnie’s a little late to our interview; she was feeding the kid.

Which means, yes, she’s lactating.

When the Dude confesses to sharing the other Dude’s preference for White Russians, I have to ask if he drinks them with breast milk.

Yes, El Duderino affirms, he most certainly does.

Wow! Lactating Mother on Mother’s Day

Then Bunnie pulls out one of her gorgeous, gigantic (36G), all-natural boobs, squeezing her right nipple until a pearl of breast milk emerges.

His Dudeness licks that sweet stuff up: the perfect White Russian, minus the vodka and Kahlua.

Boobalicious Bunnie and the Abiding Dude also revel in being “hairy,” a burgeoning fetish among fans who prefer their porn stars to be au naturel rather than shaved and hairless.

To start the Lebowski Hairy Tour, Bunnie makes a point of showing off her hirsute armpit hair which His Dudeness makes a point of licking.

Of course, like the original Duderino, this Dude has a bushy beard, even bushier than the original. Or maybe just being a new dad means no time for trimming.

Then again, maybe his trichophile fans prefer it that way, along with his hairy chest, of course.

No manscaping for this Dude!

But it’s Bunnie’s luxuriant bush that beckons us.

Does that make us pubephiles?

Political animal that I am, I feel moved to differentiate Bunnie’s “good bush” from the Bad Bush who occupied the White House from 2001-2008, lied and cheated America into two horrific and fruitless Perma Wars, botched his response to the Katrina disaster and, despite his recent attempts at rehabilitation, will never live down being America’s worst Presidunce… besides tRump.

Not only is Bunnie’s vulva bushy, it’s ginger! This is a delightful surprise since her head hair is a medium brown.

Happy MILF Day Kiss

Bunnie’s bush inspires Sunshine’s to come out from under her panties.

My own wondrous vulva isn’t very bushy, but it comes out anyway.

I haven’t seen this many pussies since Labia Day!

Thanks to our requests and her exhibitionism, soon Bunnie is completely naked, legs spread, balancing on her toes, reminding us that she’s an amateur gymnast.

The Dude then begins his expert fingering (aka masturbating her), and before we can say, “It’s Holy Water, Brothers and Sisters,” she’s squirting.

What a beautiful baptism for MILF Day!

What a beautiful, versatile couple. They even did “pregnancy porn” when Bunnie was expecting.

The one thing they have yet to do is anal sex. No “Tutti Frutti” for the Lebowskis… yet.

With their fans clamoring for it, they are prudently saving Bunnie’s virgin butthole for “later.”

Meanwhile, they share numerous other sexual activities, and they are thriving in the Coronapocalypse.

Even though she’s a brand new mom, Bunnie loves sex and couldn’t wait to get back into camming as soon as she healed from giving birth.

What true sex performers!

We appreciate them both and look forward to having them back on the show, maybe in-person when they’re in LA, post-Coronapocalypse.

Meanwhile… Happy MILF, MILF-lovers and Mother’s Day to the Lebowskis and all the sexy parents and child-free “parent figures” out there!

Happy Mother’s Day and Merry Masturbation Month to the Godmother of Masturbation, Dr. Betty Dodson. Photo: Harry Sapien

A special shout-out to my own child-free masturbation “mom,” actually the “Godmother of Masturbation,” who taught me things my biological mother never would in her seminal book, Sex for One (then called Liberating Masturbation), Dr. Betty Dodson.

She Bop, We Bop, A-Wop-Bop, a-Loo-Mop, a-Lop-Bam-Boom!

“Social Distancing” is an inherently misleading phrase for what we’re doing in the Coronapocalypse since many of us are as social as ever; we’re just connecting through social media.

Bonoboville Banditos. Photo: Jux Lii (taken from his monitor while watching DrSuzy.Tv from his quarantine)

COVID-19 isn’t social; you can’t catch it through Twitter (though all those Trending Topics can drive you insane).

You catch it through physical proximity to someone who has it, especially if they’re coughing and sneezing all over you, or even just exhaling near you.

That’s why we need physical distancing.

Still, it’s not an exact science, and even our most esteemed scientists, along with our sleazy politicians, are giving us mixed messages about how to maintain physical distance as American “opens” for work and play.

Photo 1: Harry Sapien.  Photos 2 & 3: Sunshine McWane.  Photos 3 & 5: Selfies

My way of handling physical distancing is to mask up as we set up and start the show.

Then, with the crew at a distance, Sunshine and I, keeping our six-foot-apart distance (more or less) take off our masks to interview our guests on Zoom.

Post-show, we put the masks back on to pose for a few post-show photos with Capt’n Max, Ana (another great Mom and MILF) and Miguel.

Speaking of Moms and masturbation, Sunshine says her mom never discussed the subject, except to let her daughter know (as an adult) that her favorite Cyndi Lauper song from her childhood, “She-Bop,” is all about it.

That explains Uncle Siggy’s Master Bingo and the self-service station.

Indeed, she bop, he bop, we bop.

And in the words of the immortal Francois de la Brioskee, “Everybody bops” (especially in quarantine).

Technically, Capt’n Max and I could have any type of sex, since we are sheltering together, but we bop too.

At least, mutual bopping is a favorite sexual activity of ours, as it is for so many couples.

Photos: Selfies

Thus, we bop our way into “a-wop-bop, a-loo-mop, a-lop-bam-boom” heaven.

READ “RIP LITTLE RICHARD, TUTTI FRUTTI SEX REVOLUTIONARY” ON COUNTERPUNCH

© May 9, 2020 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.

Need to talk? Sext? Webcam? Do it here. Have you watched the show? No? Feel the sex. Don’t miss the Forbidden Photographs—Hot Stuff, look at them closely here. Join our private social media Society. Join us live in studio 😊. Go shopping. Gift shop or The Market Place. DrSusanBlock.tv, real sex TV at your toe tips. Sex Clips Anyone? FASHION, we have fashion! We also have politics. Politics? Have you Read the book? No? How about the Speakeasy Journal? Click here. Ok, how about some free sex advice?

https://drsusanblock.com/wp-content/uploads/2023/13/20230304_fdr_92_edit_2.mp4

by Dr. Susan Block.     

The Love Train roars into March Madness, but where is it taking us? Into the madness of perma war, corporate poisons, the mounting mayhem at home, and maddeningly unjust censorship (looking at you YouTube) or the merry, trippy, holiday-horny, revolutionary, madcap March Hare madness that takes us through the Tunnel of Love, from the dark, murderous, money-crazed, cop-and-bot-controlled, sex buzz-killing Capitalocene into the light of the peaceful, sexy, lefty, female-empowered, male-nurtured, pussy-cookie-eating goodness of the Bonobocene?

Then again, maybe all this March Madness is just another hoop fest. Not big sports fans, Capt’n Max and I are mad about Women’s Month, Sex Worker’s Day and Purim (the Jewish Halloween of masks, wine and hamantaschen, aka Pussy Cookies)—all of which are related as Purim is the only Jewish holiday centered around a woman who also happens to be a high-end (royal), high-risk (execution looms) sex worker.

Speaking of “Da Jews,” we commend the current protests in Israel—the biggest demonstrations ever of Israelis against their own increasingly fascist government. Scary but necessary, these protests are mostly against Binyamin Netanyahu’s yahoo government and brazen judicial coup, but it’s good to see a few brave Jews for Palestine in the crowds and many more marching in solidarity with Huwara (the Palestinian town recently attacked by paramilitary Zionist settlers), carrying signs saying “Palestinian Lives Matter.”

Our Callin callers are less interested in Israel’s Mad March to Justice than in Pussy Cookies, and who can blame them? Callin regular Brady calls in for an explanation and, after a bit of teasing (Esther’s signature style), I give my Purimschpiel, that is, I tell my quickie version of the Story of Purim, the Feast of Queen Esther, the teenage beauty contest winner who stops a genocide with nothing but her Weapons of Mass Seduction.

Warning: This is not your Bubbe’s Purim. In my midrash (Biblical interpretation), the lovely young Esther (Hebrew name: Hadassah) is brought before the Persian King Ahasuerus (probably based on the historic King Xerxes) by her “Pimpin’ Cousin Mordecai” (my name for him), a “righteous man,” as the Bible says, who virtually pimps out his cousin to a lecherous, alcoholic and volatile King—though “payment” isn’t made until the payoff at the story’s climax. As the tall tale unfolds, through alternately teasing and pleasing the king (and his long phallic scepter), Esther wins his fickle favor as he grants her bold request to spare her people (Da Jews!) from annihilation.  In a time when power was almost always gained through brute force and cold gold—a time much like our own—this was, and still is, a human miracle. Yes, Esther Shtups for peace, which is, of course, very bonoboesque. And you can get more complete, dramatic, erotic-exotic, masked and wild Purimschpiels at our Purim Bacchanal, Purim Masquerade, Queen Esther Commedia Erotica, Porny Purim, Porny Purim with DAD and Purim Rising.

Most Jewish holidays have a special, symbolic food and on Purim, we eat hamantaschen, triangular pastries that I learned in Sunday school were shaped like the hat of Haman, the king’s advisor and the chief villain of the story—kind of an ancient Persian Hitler or Nick Fuentes—who draws up the Jewish genocide plan. Even though I’m a hat fetishist, I always thought that was a rather pat and silly, not to mention unappetizing explanation. Then, a few years ago, at one of my earlier Purim orgies, in between bites of hamantasch (singular for hamantaschen) and licks of a female guest’s lovely labia, I had an epiphany that hamantaschen have nothing to do with hats, but are really shaped like an open vulva, complete with a jelly or cherry-filled vagina hole in the middle.

So, since hardly anyone besides traditional Jews and Germans can pronounce “hamantaschen,” I started calling them “pussy cookies.” I believe that these iconic Purim pastries honor “the power of the pussy” and the triumph of Queen Esther. In a violent patriarchal world that more often exhibits contempt for that which is feminine and “soft,” they symbolize love and respect for strong female power, and in these crazy times marked by mass murder and perma-war, the “pussy cookie” message of peace through pleasure is more vital than ever.

See why I call Hamantaschen “Pussy Cookies”?

Brady agrees, and probes even deeper into pussy power—including Redwings “magic” and Red Hot Chili Peppers’ “Blood Sugar Sex Magik”—painkiller orgasms (my kind of natural “sex magic”), and once again, the prickly topic of circumcision rears its sensitive head.

As we extol Queen Esther’s striptease and belly dancing abilities,

Shardoll calls in to ask if belly dancing—for which he seems to have a fetish—should be considered sex work or fun for the whole family? Answer: Kind of like Drag, it depends on many factors, from style to venue, outfit to audience.

Kdot chimes in on the Purim story with his more traditional, somewhat patriarchal view, which is good for balance, but it’s Women’s Month, so my sex-positive, female-empowering pussy cookies get more airtime.  

For Women’s Month, we honor Erin Brockovich, the sexy environmentalist now organizing East Palestine residents to challenge Norfolk Southern railway for poisoning their town, whom Ohio police now claim has potential for “special interest terrorism”—more unwarranted criminalizing, censoring and termination of Free Speech. Having been called “the Erin Brockovitch of the Bonobos” in Salon (thanks Deirdre Guthrie),  have special fondness for her, and we’re on the Love Train here, so we’re sensitive to train trouble. We also shoutout another interesting woman running for President: Marianne Williamson.

Disturbing news: Apparently the “cop orgies” we applauded a few weeks ago were not not consensual, says former officer Maegan Hill, the young female cop at the center of the scandal. It’s terrible, but when we talked about the story, all the news outlets implied it was all consensual. Interestingly, that was the last YouTube show we posted before we got terminated, “Cop Orgies & Toxic Royalty.” Did YouTube bots consider our discussion of this news story to be “harassment,” even though we were just commenting on news stories about Maegan Hill, a public figure? Unless it was the Royal Family that complained that we harassed them by calling them “toxic royalty.” It could be so many things—or nothing at all! Talk about maddening. The Mad March Hare has nothing on YouTube censor bots (though “March Madness” was stolen from Lewis Carroll by college basketball).

In the last few minutes, Marco, aka Socialist Pizza, calls in to talk about bonobos, our common ancestors living in trees, polyamory and lube.

If you missed my State of the Sexual Union 2023 live (and unless you live in New England, you probably did), catch it now. And thanks for the nice review, Xbiz!

And did I mention that the way to many a woman’s heart is through her feet?

For Women’s Month, treat a woman who’d appreciate it to a foot massage… even if that woman is YOU!

© March 4,  2023 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 626-461-5950.

Need to talk? Sext? Webcam? Do it here. Have you watched the show? No? Feel the sex. Don’t miss the Forbidden Photographs—Hot Stuff, look at them closely here. Join our private social media Society. Join us live in studio 😊. Go shopping. Gift shop or The Market Place. DrSusanBlock.tv, real sex TV at your toe tips. Sex Clips Anyone? FASHION, we have fashion! We also have politics. Politics? Have you Read the book? No? How about the Speakeasy Journal? Click here. Ok, how about some free sex advice?

The SUZY Awards: Amor Hilton, Anthony Winn with Agwa, Jack Nice, Goddess Maya (holding Award and The Bonobo Way), Snake Eve, Dr. Susan Block with more Agwa, Dark Phoenix with Unlicensed Professionals’ “Buttload O’ Months” Calender, Chelsea Demoiselle with Bonzo in Bonobo Designs T-shirt. Photo: BW

Length 1:52:26:00   Date: Dec. 27, 2014

Three’s the charm, whether it’s a hot threesome or the third annual DrSusanBlock.Tv awards honoring show guests who charmed, challenged, inspired and aroused us over the course of this erotic adventure-filled year. Now officially nicknamed “The SUZYs,” these very special awards pay tribute to “excellence in broadcast artistry and exhibitionism,” venerating the pursuit and cultivation of peace through pleasure, better sex education, more entertaining erotica, a more sex-positive ethos and more bonoboësque Weapons of Mass Seduction. To win, you must have been a guest on The Dr. Susan Block Show sometime during the year 2014.

Our awards shows are always intimate and festive, bubbling up between the holidays like champagne. This one celebrates the season, The Bonobo Way and the winners with Agwa-infused, breast–baring, “Nipple-Freeing” Bonoboville Communion as we watch some of the award-winning clips. We also toast the birthdays of two of our favorite people (who also happen to win awards), the “Most Adorable” Amor-able Amor “Baby Block” Hilton, skyping into the show live from an undisclosed Walgreens (or is that CVS?) and “Drink & Draw” winner, Stripperella artist Anthony Winn. We also have naughty fun with the actual SUZY award, this being the first year we have a physical trophy, a lovely, phallic, golden Oscar replica with shimmering wings and a white hat (or is that a halo?) made from a Condomania condom, rendering the SUZY award trophy Measure B-compliant.

Now that the ballots are in and the envelopes open, I’d like to congratulate the winners, console the losers (though one “loser”—actually Luzer, is a winner!), and present (all rise for a standing erection—I mean, ovation!), in no particular order, The DrSusanBlock.Tv 2014 AWARD WINNERS…

“Most Bonobo” – Chase Ryder

“Kinkiest Committed Couple” – Goddess Soma & “Fat” Mike

“Best Sex Advice” – Ed Asner

“Most Acrobatic Sex” – Haley Sweet & Dark Phoenix

“Most Sex-Positive Political Candidate” – U.S. Congressional Candidate Rose Izzo

“Most Adorable” – Amor Hilton

“Best Leather” – Jux Lii of Jux Leather

“Most Congenial Revolutionary” – Polly Superstar

“Most Poignant Erotic Memory” – Danny Glover

“Mother Teresa of Sex” – Alexandra Silk

“Best Pick-Up Artist” – Luzer Twersky

“Hottest Pharmacist” – Dr. Sarah Russo

“Classiest Porn Star” – Tera Patrick

“Life of The Party” – Charlotte Stokely

“Most Political Sex Act” – Chelsea Demoiselle and Jack Nice

“Most Intelligent-Sounding Porn Star” – Nina Hartley for the Woodhull Sexual Freedom Alliance

“Most Intelligent Sounding Porn Star” (male) – Tyler Knight

“Best Musical Sex Parody” – 50 Shades: The Musical

“Best Networker” – Luc Wylder

“Most Copious Female Ejaculator” – Vicky Vixen

“Most Copious Male Ejaculator” – Isiah King James IV

“Sweetest Blowjob” – Amanda Blow

“Most Cunning Cunnilingus” – Dane Cross with Emma Snow

“Sexiest Author” – Anka Radakovich

“Sexiest Swinger” – Lulu

“Soundest Spanking” – Mistress Tara Indiana

“Sexiest Cake” Jamaica’s Cakes

“Best-Dressed Guest” – Emily Marilyn

“Most Edifying Sex Educator” – Sheri Winston

“Most Sustainable Sex Advice” – Stefanie Iris Weiss

“Sweetest Sinner” – Selma Sins

“Soundest Sleeper” – Ron Jeremy

“Mayor of Bonoboville” – Ron Jeremy

“Most Orgasmic Sybian Rider” – Tina Romantica with Hercules Liotard

“Wildest Sex Toy” – InJoyUs

“Handiest Sex Toy” – Doc Johnson iRocket

“Best Condoms” – Condomania (President: Nicole Donnelly)

“Best Edible Aphrodisiac” – Cannabelly

“Most Bonobo-Knowledgeable Mainstream Star” – Dan Haggarty

“Best Twerking” – Harley Dean

“Still-Sexiest Sex Symbol” – Christopher Atkins

“Sexiest Chauffeur” – Tammie Parrott

“Most Enthusiastic” – “Love Boat” Captain Gavin McLeod

“Wildest Exhibitionist” – Shay Lynn

“Best Elvis Impersonator” – Smokey Binion Jr

“Rottenest Guest” – Robert “Corpsy” Rhine

“Most Poly-Handy” – Dark Phoenix

“Most Cosmic” – Neil Degrasse Tyson

“Most Erudite Flatulence Fetishist” – Kelsey Obsession

“Best Drink ‘n’ Drawer” – Anthony Winn

“Most Nonconsensual Torture Fetishists” – The CIA

“Coolest Blast from the Past” – Ginger Lynn

“Most Dynamic Duo” –   Catherine Imperio & Samantha Fairley

“Best Hair” – Catherine Imperio & Samantha Fairley

“Sexiest Promoter” – Catherine Imperio

“Best Buttload” – Samantha Fairley

Speaking of “Buttloads”… HAPPY NUDE REAR !!! By this show’s end, we bare Chelsea’s end (see photo), proclaiming our Nude Rear/New Year’s Resolution to make 2015 “The Year of the Bonobo.”

Happy Nude Rear from Bonoboville! Featuring Maya, Dr. Suzy, Chelsea’s Nude Rear, Agwa, The Bonobo Way, Dark Phoenix. Photo: L’erotique

Again, “three’s the charm,” and there are three parts to this resolution: 1) learning The Bonobo Way of peace through pleasure and female empowerment, 2) releasing your “inner bonobo” in the bedroom and beyond, and 3) saving the real bonobos from extinction in the wild. We can’t do it without you! So have a Happy Nude Rear! Free the Nipple! Stop Police Brutality! Drop-Bras-Not-Bombs! And get ready to GO BONOBOS in 2015!

Need to talk? Sext? Webcam? Do it here. Have you watched the show? No? Feel the sex. Don’t miss the Forbidden Photographs—Hot Stuff, look at them closely here. Join our private social media Society. Join us live in studio 😊. Go shopping. Gift shop or The Market Place. DrSusanBlock.tv, real sex TV at your toe tips. Sex Clips Anyone? FASHION, we have fashion! We also have politics. Politics? Have you Read the book? No? How about the Speakeasy Journal? Click here. Ok, how about some free sex advice?

Sharin’ Shannon on DrSuzy.Tv, 9/11 Eve. Photo: TeddyBoy French

Length 1:41:54 Date: September 10, 2016

by Dr. Susan Block

It’s 9/11 Eve in Bonoboville, the night before the 15th anniversary of that most horrific and outrageous of terrorist attacks that shocked the world and triggered the Perma Wars in which we are still enmeshed.

Where were you on 9/11? I remember watching, mouth open and brain stretched to point of disbelief, as two passenger planes flew headlong into the world’s tallest buildings. Not only was it a terrible atrocity, murdering over 3000 innocents, it was an attack on America’s psyche, cutting down our biggest architectural phallic symbols, Dick 1 and Dick 2, a catastrophe that castrated those towering icons of World Trade and American corporatocracy in a breathtakingly cruel, low-tech conflagration of box-cutters, billowing smoke, fire and fury. It was totally surreal for most of us watching what looked like a special-effects-laden science fiction film broadcasting LIVE on an otherwise typical Tuesday morning, and then replayed in slow-motion and from different angles, over and over again. Yet it was also very real, and it changed our world. In its fiery, furious wake came the freedom-trimming Patriot Act, the gulags of Guantanamo and Abu Ghraib, and the Perma-War that we now live, breathe and pay for every day.

In those dizzying days and mournful candlelit nights immediately following 9/11, when we weren’t sure what America’s response would be, I asked my viewers and readers to join me in imagining “if our President, instead of calling for war (against whom?), called for peace. Just imagine if he exhorted us to follow the Bonobo Way instead of acting like baboons. Just imagine if he reminded us that the best revenge is living well. Just imagine if he told us that we mustn’t be afraid, that we mustn’t let sheer terror guide our hearts or our missiles. Some of us would feel frustrated. But America would prove itself to be a greater Beacon of Hope than ever.”

9/11/01

A few short weeks later, it was clear that our President, George W. Chickenhawk Bush was not going to take my advice. Instead that overgrown frat-boy (an embarrassment to our mutual alma mater) invaded Afghanistan, carpet-bombing thousands of innocents, without finding Osama bin Laden. Then he invaded Iraq with Shock & Awe, killing many thousands more, even though Iraq and its dictator had nothing whatsoever to do with the 9/11 attacks nor did they have any working Weapons of Mass Destruction. Bush, Dick and Rummy did this for no discernible reason other than that they just felt like it. Oh, and also to enrich their old cronies at Halliburton, Bechtel and other international Defense Industry conglomerates. Thus here we are, 15 years later, still embroiled in Bush’s Perma War, though Obama did nail Osama. Barry also prefers drones, which give the perpetrator the illusion that war is just a video game, except for the real people who are being killed and the real PTSD suffered by the killers.

Meanwhile, the terrorists have multiplied, mutating and spreading like viruses, moving from box cutters to pipe bombs, as well as the usual guns, axes and butcher knives, using social media with as much contemptible skill as it took for those 9/11 hijackers to pilot passenger planes into floors 93-99. Mass-murder now appears to be all the rage on the street and in the desert, with refugees streaming in every direction like blood from a terrible wound.

To say we have been acting like baboons (not bonobos) is insulting to baboons. America leads the world in war, death and destruction, our biggest export, and we reap the consequent terror that we sow.

9/11 Eve in Bonoboville. Photo: TeddyBoy French

Not many politicians can stand up to the War Machine that has grown so big and fat on our fears. Certainly, neither of the two major party U.S. Presidential candidates is about to stop the Perma-War triggered by the trauma of that shocking day 15 years ago when terrorists castrated our big dick buildings. This is why, for the office of Commander in Chief of America’s armed forces, I support a dominatrix, someone who knows how to handle terrorizing men with HUUUGE penis-size anxieties. And not just any dominatrix, but U.S. Presidential Candidate Mistress Tara Indiana, who happens to be my first guest on this show.

U.S. Presidential Candidate Mistress Tara Indiana, dressed down for “clearing brush,” on DrSuzy.Tv. Photo: TeddyBoy French

Candidate Indiana is dressed down for this rather impromptu appearance. Lovely as always, even without makeup and pearls, She wears jeans, a T-shirt and a denim jacket, as if She’s just been out on the ranch “clearing brush,” like that old Presidential Perma War-starter, in a clever bid for the Good Ol’ Boy vote. On previous shows, Ms. Tara has shown us exactly how She will beat Trump—with a paddle, a gag and a firm yet bonoboësque hand (actually She has small hands, perfect for fisting!). On this show, Trump is MIA, so She beats Jacquie Blu, giving her a book–spanking with The Bonobo Way, rendering Jacquie’s butt red as the stripes on Old Glory and her smile as broad as a billboard.

Then Madam Candidate takes Bonoboville Communion from subbie Jacquie’s perky pierced nipples—Oh my, call Wonkette!—followed by Waterboarding the Bonobo Way with Agwa di Bolivia Coca Leaf Liqueur.

Pouring the magical green stuff is the one and only Shannon Coronado, resplendent in post-Labor Day white, creating Shock & Awe in the Womb Room just by standing up. Her Weapons of Mass Seduction include a see-through, nipple-poking halter top, Betsy Johnson hose wrapped around her endless gams, cute off-white booties and a tight white miniskirt barely covering her amazing boo-tay.

One good Bonoboville Communion leads to another, and our next round features Sarah Bella as the Altar Girl, freeing the nipple for her First Communion with androgynous Jay Toriko. They are a cute match, with Jay picking up the butch theme in a slinky latex catsuit, pigtails and hip-wonky glasses, while Sarah is ever-so femme in a coquettish corset and fishnet cutout pantyhose. Their Communion is quite sensuous and, dare I say, rather meaningful, considering the close nature of their friendship. It even launches a volley of Weapons of Mass Discussion on trans boob sensitivity before and during hormone treatments, after which several of us show that we can suck our own boobs, or moobs, as in the case of Jay.

This segues into auto-fellatrix Jay unzipping his latex to show off his sexual specialty: Shock & Awe with no casualties! It’s also a nice moment to chat about the organic natural beauty of the uncircumcised penis. Props to Sarah for lending a hand.

Post 0/11 Enhanced Interrogation: Waterboarding Jay, the Bonobo Way. Photo: TeddyBoy French

Our third Bonoboville Communion altar girl glides up like a Goddess into the Womb Room from the Speakeasy bar: Rachel Majenta, standing almost 5‘11” in her bare feet (even taller than Shannon, those two are like the Twin Towers of feminine pulchritude), is a graphic designer and international adventurer. In the Bible (Genesis), Rachel was the most beloved of all four of Jacob’s wives, and this Rachel certainly wins the hearts and minds of the Womb Room.  Daughter of a Jewish dad who worked with her Christian mom as hippie missionaries in South Africa, the statuesque Rachel is ripe for Communion. With a generous smile and laughing eyes, she bares her all natural 34Bs as an altar for longtime bonobo sapien and U.S. Air Force veteran (not in that order) Nori Carter.  Taking his Communion with extra licks, Nori seems happy to be relieved of his military duties in America’s Perma-Wars, settling into the lap of Rachel’s luxury as he gets waterboarded like he never got in Air Force training camp. A peace-through-pleasure alternative to “enhanced interrogation techniques,” Bonoboville Communion gets its *victims* to tell the truth at least as the CIA.

As we cross over the midnight hour, from 9/11 Eve to the day itself, it seems only right to call upon our beloved buddy Ikkor the Wolf, who winds up our plea for peace through pleasure with a rap-turous reminder that “We Are One.” It’s the Bonobo Way.

Speaking of bonobos, our first shout-out of the night goes to Natalie Angier, who I interviewed way back before 9/11 about her book Woman: An Intimate Geography, for her newest NY Times article on bonobo female power which quotes fellow Mal Jones award recipient, Dr. Amy Parish.  Shout-out #2 goes out to the Free Speech Coalition, including our old friend, FSC attorney Jeffrey Douglas, as well as FSC activists Julia Ann and Siouxsie Q James who will be on DrSuzy.Tv this coming Saturday, September 17th to tell us why we should vote #NoProp60. Speaking of upcoming excitement, Ms. Tara will return to DrSuzy.Tv on the next Saturday, September 24th for a hot debate with fellow U.S. Presidential candidate and artist Jeffrey Vallance.

Shout-out #3 goes to Italy for declaring that public masturbation is not a crime as long as it is not performed in front of minors.  Shout-out #4 goes to Gonzo Bonobo, Bonoboville resident since 2013, now *graduating* and starting up his own graphic design business, though promising to come back for Saturday night shows. Ever the multi-tasker, Gonzo shoots hand-held camera as he basks in our applause for his service, great graphics, good humor, delicious blunts and awesome T-shirt designs.

That brings me to a shout-out to the Emmys, Documentary and Reality TV division, where Capt’n Max and I (wearing a Gonzo-made Bonobo Way tank top) spent a delightful evening the night before at the Academy of Television Arts & Sciences reception for the nominees, escorted by Bonoboville driver, Luzer Twersky, who also happens to be the winner of several “Best Actor” awards for his brilliant and sensitive portrayal of a Hasidic cuckold in “Félix & Meira,” winner of the SUZY Award for “Best Pick-Up Artist” (2014) and “Funniest Former Fundamentalist” (2015). But Luzer’s best win is some very personal attention from none other than Sharin’ Shannon.

It was wonderful, as always to see our former HBO director Shari Cookson (whom we just saw in sadder circumstances at the Dave Bell memorial), as well as meet a bunch of talented nominees and other filmmakers, not to mention sip dirty martinis in the newly renovated Academy.

With my HBO director and Television Academy Documentary & REality TV Division Governor Shari Cookson. Photo: Luzer Twersky

Meanwhile back in Bonoboville, the afterparty moves and grooves throughout the garden, on the balconies and at the bar where Shannon rules like the Goddess that she is, sharing kisses with a lucky, happy few bonobo sapiens, inspiring me to  accidentally and then purposely call her Sharin’ Shannon. Luzer‘s a winner in that division too!

Into the Garden steps the alluring Asia Stone who puts chopstick nipple clamps on Jacquie Blu, wows the crowd with her FemDom style and promises to come back soon to be a featured guest on the show. Gigi Bonobo, our newest recruit, shoots camera for most of this one, then dances, clowns and mimes up a storm in the afterparty, plus enjoys her own breakthrough close encounter with Sharin’ Shannon.

So despite the post-9/11 Perma Wars, it’s been another smoking hot Bonobo Summer of Love, and we’re about to FALL into the Bonobo Way as the beauty of autumn approaches. Life is good in our little village of Bonoboville.    

9/11 Eve Bonoboville Bacchanal. Photo: Unscene Abe

All of it gets the Captain quite worked up, and off we go for our own private reenactment of 9/11 in which I fly through the air and make his tower explode. Wheeeee!

Peace through Pleasure on 9/11 Eve. Photo: Unscene Abe

© September 10, 2016. 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.

Need to talk? Sext? Webcam? Do it here. Have you watched the show? No? Feel the sex. Don’t miss the Forbidden Photographs—Hot Stuff, look at them closely here. Join our private social media Society. Join us live in studio 😊. Go shopping. Gift shop or The Market Place. DrSusanBlock.tv, real sex TV at your toe tips. Sex Clips Anyone? FASHION, we have fashion! We also have politics. Politics? Have you Read the book? No? How about the Speakeasy Journal? Click here. Ok, how about some free sex advice?

https://drsusanblock.com/wp-content/uploads/2023/13/20231028_fdr_125_edit_2.mp4

by Dr. Susan Block.

Flying over Kinktober’s spooky full moon on my magic dildonic vibrating broom, I deliver my Ode to Halloween to start up the scene… as well as our newest street in Bonoboville, “Poet Avenue.”

Gypsy & Me Riding Our Magic Dildonic Vibrating Brooms to the Moon! Photo: Franz Salvatierra

We want your poems! Don’t be afraid. Give “poetry therapy” a chance.

AND we want a ceasefire now! It’s been three weeks since “Israel’s 9/11” on October 7th, when Capt’n Max and I broadcasted live the day after attending “Gaza Fights for Freedom” filmmaker Abby Martin’s art party, only to wake up to Hamas attacking Israel, and then Israel attacking Gaza, which it is still attacking… and bombing in a frenzy of atrocity after Zionist atrocity, slaughtering thousands of Palestinians, including many children.

I’m Jewish but never Zionist; not even when I believed the poisonous pablum fed to me like toxic baby food in Hebrew School about Israel being “a land without people for a people without land.” I felt like modern Israel was a warrior state—more in tune with Joshua invading Jericho than King Solomon’s erotic Song of Songs—and I was a make-love-not-war kind of gal.

Nevertheless, I have long had Zionist friends and family, some of whom live in Israel, so it has taken me years to clearly see just how bad it is—bad for Palestine, bad for the Jews, bad for everyone—and to take a stand against Zionism, Bibi Netanyahu and the whole Israeli War Machine supported by American tax dollars, my tax dollars.

When I first saw footage of the Hamas attack, I was mortified. I still am mortified. I see images of Israelis being murdered and being kidnapped, and I see my old friends from Har Zion Hebrew School and Camp Ramah. I see myself. I can’t unsee myself in those images. But then I see the Palestinian people, and I see myself in them too. They’re not as ethnically close as my old Ramah friends, but they’re people, like me. But unlike me, they’re trapped in a concentration camp, slaughtered by Zionist bombs.

What a shame—a shondah, as they say in Yiddish—for the Jews; even for us anti-Zionist Jews, because unfortunately, most non-Jews don’t see the difference. So, I join the voices of my fellow anti-Zionist Jews protesting Israel’s bombs who cry, “No! Not in our name! Not in my name will you commit such atrocities. Ceasefire now.”

It’s heartening to hear these words of peace sung and shouted in the huge protest marches in all the big cities around the world.

The whole world is watching YOU, Israel. Even as you bomb Gaza and cut off their food, water, medicine, electricity and Internet, bombing hospitals, homes and schools, the world still sees, and now knows. Israel may be stronger, thanks to American weapons, but Israel is losing the war of world opinion.

So, my Israeli friends and family, if you’re listening: Ceasefire now! Ceasefire for Palestine! Ceasefire for the hostages you are currently killing with your bombs. Ceasefire for Israel itself. The only ones who won’t benefit from a ceasefire are Hamas, because Hamas feeds off of everyone’s outrage over Israel’s war crimes. The best thing Israel can do now is to negotiate with Hamas, to neutralize the “enemy” with peace, like bonobos. Hamas may well refuse to negotiate because that would legitimatize Israel, and delegitimize Hamas. More bombing as usual is just proving Hamas’ point—as it murders thousands of innocents.

It’s also heartening to see Israelis on the streets of Tel Aviv and other Israeli cities protesting the bombing and especially the bomber, Bibi Netanyahu who, like his counterpart Trump, belongs in prison (even more than Trump belongs in prison).

Speaking of the devil, Trumpty Dumpty deserves some of the blame for this mess, since his son-in-law Jared Kushner’s much ballyhooed “Abraham Accords” totally ignored Palestine, making Hamas feel it had nothing to lose. And that cool $2 billion that Jared picked up from the Saudis… could it have been payment for a bit of top secret info on Israel’s defense systems?

We all want peace—at least those of us who don’t profit from war. But how to make it? Who knows? Maybe our kissing cousins, the Make-Love-Not-War bonobos, know.

Watching Zionist bombs pulverize Gaza on our phones from our privileged perch here in Bonoboville LA may be physically safe, but it’s emotionally enervating. So, when Friends of Bonobos (the outreach arm of Lola ya Bonobo) invited us on a backstage tour of the bonobos (pan paniscus) at the San Diego Zoo, we jumped up and hooted like bonobos at the chance.

Bonobo Peace Summit. Video Still: Rodrigo Alvarez

Guided by veteran primate specialist Kimba Livingston who I’d met way back in 2004 when I had my close encounter with bonobo Lana, we were treated to “inside” views of the orangutans, gorillas and, of course, the bonobos.

Thanks to new fences and other barriers, this was nowhere near as intimate an encounter as I’d had with Lana, or even with Lisa (in 2016’s Opera for Bonobos). But we had a great time at our “peace summit” with the quintessential peacemakers: the bonobos. Observing them made me even more certain that peace is the way, even in Palestine.

Bonobos make peace through pleasure, which often means sex. Unfortunately, the San Diego bonobos seem to have less and less sex every time I see them. I was afraid to ask Kimba if they were feeding them saltpeter, or maybe Prozac, though I had to wonder.

Bonobo Handshake. Video Still: Susan Block

They did have a little bit of sex, and it was clearly a form of conflict resolution to defuse their competitive tensions and stop their fighting over food. So fascinating and edifying to see peace through pleasure in action!

Bonobo Peacemaking: Hoka Hoka at Lunchtime. Video Still: Susan Block

My most exciting human-bonobo encounter this trip arose from playing catch, of all things. Due to my astigmatism and general lack of athletic prowess, I am usually a lousy pitcher; but when Kimba suggested I toss a walnut to Lisa the alpha female bonobo, I figured I’d give it a toss. Kimba herself wasn’t exactly Pedro Martinez, and the bonobos were missing her pitches.  So, I took a deep breath, stepped back and threw the nut, and lo and behold, my old friend Lisa stretched out her big bony hand and caught it! Then I did it again and she caught it—though it bounced, but then she caught it again—and I could swear she winked at me whilst devouring the crunchy treat.

Alpha Bonobo Lisa catches my nut. Video Still: Rodrigo Alvarez

Maybe instead of bombing and shooting, the Israelis and Palestinians could play soccer or volleyball. Sounds crazy, but no crazier than massacring hundreds of humans every day.

Be Bonobo: Save the Humans. Please donate to Friends of Bonobos…

Thanks to Netanyahu’s genocidal blockade, Gazans are going hungry right now, which we “never forget.”

Nevertheless, starving ourselves wouldn’t feed Gaza. So when our San Diego Peace Mission needed to eat, we checked into a wonderful Palestinian restaurant called Fairouz (which means “turquoise” in Arabic), recommended by one of our regular Callin listeners, Fahim aka “Cut the Pentagon.”

Serving traditional Middle Eastern dishes like kebab and falafel, if I didn’t know Fairouz was a “Palestinian” restaurant, I’d think it was Israeli. Of course, Israel stole Palestinian and Lebanese cuisine, which is the least of Zionism’s crimes against the natives. This is why I grew up thinking that kebab, falafel and hummus were Israeli foods. Boy was I wrong!

With Sami Alnashashibi at Fairouz. Photo: Rodrigo Alvarez

Well, at least I didn’t think that hummus (mashed chickpeas) was Hamas… like Trumpty Dumpty. But just to be safe, I ordered the Baba Ghanouj (mashed eggplant).

But Fairouz is more than a restaurant; it’s an art gallery. The walls are covered with the vibrant and colorful paintings created by one of the owners, Ibrahim Al Nashashibi, also a poet. His brother Sami Al Nashashibi, who looks like Peter Sellers (star of one of my favorite films, Stanley Kubrick’s 1964 masterpiece, Dr. Strangelove), was a charming host, treating us like friends. Sami’s twinkling eyes lit up the space, and his broad smile seemed to stretch across the great divide between Palestine and Israel, Muslim and Jew; with love, art, poetry and great food.

Bonobo Peace Summit at Fairouz. Video Still: Susan Block

Sami and his wife, the chef, exclaimed that I reminded them of “the famous [Lebanese] singer” Sabah. When I replied, “Thank you, I’m a little bit famous too,” a diner shouted from another table, “Yes, that’s Dr. Susan Block!” Then he pointed to Max and said “you must be Max.”

Who knew we had such gregarious fans in San Diego? Turns out the guy’s a cop. Wonder if he’s checked out our rants against police brutality. If he did, he’s probably one of the good ones.

Towards the end of the podcast, Fahim calls in to discuss more of the wonders of Fairouz, where he has been a regular diner for many years, as well as to express solidarity for Gaza and support for a ceasefire.

Fahim also regales us with tales of our mutual friend Abby Martin’s beginnings as a young artist and citizen journalist when she was an undergrad at San Diego State in 2006.  So moving to hear how he almost wept with joy when Abby returned to San Diego in 2019 to show Gaza Fights for Freedom. If you haven’t already, please see that film and Abby’s interviews for background on the current horrors. After the screening, they all went to Fairouz.

We can’t wait to return! In the meantime, we are enjoying the two poetry and art books we bought there, Ibrahim Al Nashashibi’s Written with Colors, Drawn with Words, and Spirit Whispers, Heart Listens, which Ibrahim dedicated to his beloved younger brother, the warm and welcoming Sami.

Fahim’s description on this show of Abby Martin as “the next generation of Protest Mommies” is perfect. Hopefully, the “Protest Mommies” of the Left will overtake “Moms for Liberty,” and soon!

The next night after the Zoo, my brother Steve and sister-in-law Tiya took us to the Fishmarket, another fun San Diego dining experience.

Are oysters really aphrodisiacs? Video Still: Rodrigo Alvarez

We slurped up fresh oysters, which are said to be aphrodisiacs, perhaps because their texture is akin to female genitalia, or maybe it’s the zinc. Sounds fishy, but they did trigger great sex—great disabled, senior sex, that is—later at the hotel. Then again, maybe we were inspired by the bonobos, but it was delicious and multi-orgasmic, in that order. Max felt so good in the afterglow, we almost tossed his wheelchair off the balcony (good thing we didn’t act on that fantasy). #GoBonobos for sexual healing!

As for the hotel itself, another Hilton Doubletree, it was pretty bland, but comfortable, wheelchair friendly (very important for us these days), and rather nostalgic. We’d stayed there when it was just a Doubletree back in 1996, on our very first trip to see bonobos, when I was giving a talk to the San Diego chapter of MENSA on The 10 Commandments of Pleasure.

Before dinner, we all walked around—well, Max rolled around—the Fishmarket area which is surrounded by a fleet of ships and a huge, menacing aircraft carrier (like the two Joe sent to the Mediterranean to menace the Middle East). Next to the carrier is a huge statue called, of all things, “Embracing Peace,” which felt like a fitting focal point for our San Diego Peace Summit.

Embracing Peace (in a wheelchair). Photo: Rodrigo Alvarez

The giant sculpture by Seward Johnson is also called “Unconditional Surrender,” though it’s best-known as “The Kissing Statue,” based on Albert Eisenstaedt’s “V-J Day in Times Square,” the famous photograph of a sailor passionately kissing a nurse at a parade celebrating the end of WWII.

V-Day in Times Square. Photo: Albert Eisenstaedt

When it first appeared in 1945, it was a big hit, but it’s very controversial nowadays, as some think it depicts an assault. It’s true that the sailor and nurse were strangers, but there’s no evidence of assault, and we love it. It reminds us of one of our own grand public embraces in France when we hadn’t seen each other in a couple months.

Speaking of “Embracing Peace,” I’m on a show called Embrace this week, an interview with Coralyn Jewel, who is also one of our therapists!

Also on this FDR:

• The new U.S. Speaker of the House MAGA Mike Johnson is a true Christofascist. Watch out!
• Our Vice piece has almost 250,000 views—with hundreds of comments filled with great love and virulent hate that are a soap opera show of their own.
• I’m still banned on Facebook, YouTube, Instagram and Spotify. Do they think I’m Hamas? We’ll find out soon, as we’re taking Zuck the META Cuck to arbitration.
• FREE ASSANGE! He’s got it almost as bad as a Gazan.
• Maine Mass Murderer Robert Card, who murdered 18 people and injured many more, appears to have been an ammosexual, possibly incel, and certainly had “mental health” issues. The point is, there were many warning signs—especially his firearms fetish—but nothing was done, nobody took his guns.
• The next generation of sexy lefties: Daniele Watts aka DaLove!
• Make Kink Not War: Be Bonobo. Save the Humans. Happy Halloween. Ceasefire NOW!

© October 28,  2023 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 626-461-5950.

Need to talk? Sext? Webcam? Do it here. Have you watched the show? No? Feel the sex. Don’t miss the Forbidden Photographs—Hot Stuff, look at them closely here. Join our private social media Society. Join us live in studio 😊. Go shopping. Gift shop or The Market Place. DrSusanBlock.tv, real sex TV at your toe tips. Sex Clips Anyone? FASHION, we have fashion! We also have politics. Politics? Have you Read the book? No? How about the Speakeasy Journal? Click here. Ok, how about some free sex advice?

Jacquie Blu, Ikkor, Baylie Kruz, Dr. Suzy, Kenzie Jamez, Sarah Bella. Photo: Roberto Bonobo

Length 1:46:06 Date: July 23, 2016

by Dr. Susan Block

Falling like an avalanche of red, white and blue Zyklon B-releasing balloons between the two American presidential conventions of 2016, this show finds Bonoboville grappling with the intensely divided state of the United States. However, with the help of some beautiful music, amazing parody, Bonoboville Communion and sexy half-naked bodies moving and grooving the Bonobo Way, it’s not long before we come up smiling, happy and horny, the sound of  jack boots marching in the distance.

Welcome to the Trumpocalypse. After four long days of rabid fear-mongering, petty plagiarism, bigotry, stupidity, misogyny, progeny, Nazi salutes, blondes in white dresses, calls for execution of the Democratic candidate by firing squad and fervent prayers to Make America HATE Again, Bonoboville is slightly traumatized. At least, I am, this being the nastiest American presidential convention in my memory. And if Trump wins which, considering the increasing fractious state of the Democratic party, is looking more and more possible, this reality show is just beginning.

Trumpocalypse… Now?

Many of my fellow Bonobovillians, listeners and viewers are wise enough to steer clear of this gathering of terrorizing trolls around their supreme trollish leader. The Trump-avoidance technique helps them preserve their sanity and humanity, but it adds to the myth that Trump is just a silly buffoon with funny hair. Maybe he is, but maybe he isn’t. You never know with a shamelessly hateful, principle-free, attention-span-challenged narcissist, do you? And he’s one election away from Airforce One.

It makes me think of Weimar Berlin. In between the two World Wars, before the Nazis marched in, the Germans had a democracy. They had freedom of speech, relative equality, nudist resorts, and liberal policies. Berlin itself boasted all kinds of marvelous erotic entertainment, from sex cabarets to gay clubs to dominatrices openly plying their trade, as described in my friend UC Berkeley Professor Mel Gordon’s book Voluptuous Panic: The Erotic World of Weimar Berlin. Weimar Berliners were having so much fun, they barely noticed this silly buffoon with a funny moustache rising in popularity out in the German hinterlands.

Moreover, the liberals of Weimar Germany squabbled amongst one another, and their internal competitions took precedence over the threat from the Right that was positioning itself to kick in their doors. Even when the silly buffoon with the funny moustache took power and then more power and then absolute power, most of the good liberal citizens of Weimar Berlin didn’t worry, since these same Nazis patronized their sex cabarets, dominatrices and gay clubs. Some didn’t realize how wrong they were until they were inhaling the Zyklon-B.

I know, Trump isn’t a Hitler or even a Mussolini, at least not yet. But we ignore the lessons of Weimar Berlinat our peril, and that is another reason why Capt’n Max and I spend the first part of this program speaking out against the silly buffoon with the funny hair (and small hands) of our own time and place. Also because, as the Captain points out, beyond whatever else a U.S. President might actually accomplish, he nominates Supreme Court justices that could affect our legal system for years to come. “If Trump gets in, women will lose their rights and I’ll go back to jail,” predicts Capt’n Max, only half kidding.

Trump Dollz Go Bonobos

Many traumatized people eroticize their trauma. Sexual arousal can act as a kind of therapy or painkiller to help a victim of abuse survive. Traumatized by the Trumpocalyse, I fixated on the harem of beautiful Trump girls; I know, they’re women, but the way Daddy Trump presents them and the way they present themselves, they seem like eternal girls. All-blonde-all-the-time daughters Ivanka and Tiffany, equally blonde daughters-in-law Lara and Vanessa and blonde-highlighted wife Melania, all pretty as plastic dolls, all dressed in white at one time or another or all through the convention. Trump family plagiarist Melania’s cloud-white frock even sported puffed angel wings around her elbows.

Trump Girls in White

I must admit I was aroused by this sea of feminine summer-hot whiteness as much as I was disturbed. Were the Trump girls seriously trying to appear as angels, or just born-again virgins? Daughter-brides of Trump Daddy? Or was wearing pure white a subtle but potent symbol of their racial whiteness, a signal to Aryan power freaks, David Duke and other white supremacists that Daddy Drumpf keeps by his bedside with Mein Kampf? Whatever the cause, as fear, hatred, bigotry and boredom spewed from the RNC stage, I found myself fantasizing about the Trump harem girls stripping off their racist white dresses and sucking on each other pink nipples as they performed Bonoboville Communion with Agwa di Bolivia Herbal Coca Leaf Liqueur right in front of me.

Trump Girls in White, the Bonobo Way. Photo: Teddy Boy

Which is pretty much what happens on this show! The stand-ins for the Trump girls are my featured guests, Baylie Kruz and Kenzie Jamez of 99Dollz, two platinum blondes in snow-white dresses. I did not plan this, and neither did Sarah Bella who arranged for Baylie and Kenzie to be on the show and chose their white outfits without having even seen the Trump girls. However it happens, it’s as if my elephantine RNC-trauma-induced wet dream walks into my Womb Room and gives me a lapdance.

PHOTO 1: SARAH BELLA.  PHOTO 2: TEDDY BOY.  PHOTOS 3 & 4: ROBERTO BONOBO

Not that Baylie and Kenzie are just dream characters. They are real lively ladies, and we have a nice chat about their real lives and their work in the field of erotic entertainment. A porn performer from “Middle America” (Cincinnati), Baylie is now a savvy manager of porn starlets. With a forthrightness that could take her into politics one day, she gives us the inside story of how to break into porn and what to expect.

Fresh out of Idaho, Kenzie is brand new to porn. In fact, she’s only 18, just old enough to have sex and do porn legally, but too young to drink the Agwa in Bonoboville Communion. So Handsome Hollywood Jake fixes her a nice alcohol-free Shirley Temple to wash down the salt, and she offers up her natural nubile breasts as an altar to lapsed Mormon Baylie’s sensuous tongue. Between the white dresses, red lipstick and a blue tattoo, they present a pretty patriotic picture.

Then Kenzie surprises and seduces us all with a song. Crooning “Somewhere Over the Rainbow,” her bell-clear soprano rings throughout Bonoboville with hope and joy that vanquishes all thoughts of those other white-clad Stepford blondes and their despot Daddy. We dub her “The Singing Pornstar”—a musical sexual sensation!

Then Unscene Abe cranks up Too Short’s “Gangsters & Strippers,” and Kenzie and Baylie strip off their Trump-girl-white dresses as they kiss, dance and do the hoka-hoka like bonobo gals. Trump Dollz go bonobos on DrSuzy.Tv!

Ikkor & More

With black men being shot by police for no good reason every day all over America, and with what Mitt Romney (I can’t believe I’m quoting Mitt Romney!) calls the “trickle-down racism” of Trump on the rise, we are always grateful to see that our tall, dark and handsome friend Ikkor the Wolf is still alive. Requesting that he take his jacket off turns into a chant to “jack it off!” An interesting interchange ensues with Kenzie about racism in Idaho where “the only black people we see are criminals on TV,” and a hot black-on-blonde kiss passes between Ikkor and Baylie. Nothing like a little interracial passion to counteract that trickle-down racism.

Ikkor the Bonobo. Photo: Roberto

Nothing like a little bonobo love to counteract the trickle-down hate and bullying. Pitting the LGBTQ community against Muslims, blacks against Latinos and women against each other, Trump panders most to the angry white male bullies who have lurked deep within the Republican party behind the scenes since Nixon. Now with Trump, they are front, center, and unashamed. And so the party of Lincoln becomes the Hunger Games.

PHOTO 1: TEDDY BOY.  PHOTO 2: UNSCENE ABE.  PHOTO 3: ROBERTO BONOBO

In topsy turvy times like these, grace takes odd forms. Like, I can’t believe I am saying this BUT Ted Cruz… has balls. Small balls, since the only reason the smarmy, Bible-toting, gun fetishist gave for not endorsing Trump is “he attacked my famileee,” but balls that most of his colleagues at the Quick Loans Arena lacked completely. Not that there were many colleagues there, unless Scott Baio is now running for Congress. If Trump wins, he probably will.

PHOTOS: ROBERTO BONOBO

If Trump wins… Every day, with every terrorist act and DNC scandal, it’s becoming more nauseatingly possible. Let’s be clear: I don’t love Hillary; who does? But if Hillary loses, Trump wins. The choice is stark… especially in the dark.

Moonshine. Photo: Unscene Abe

So, how do we handle our myriad Hillary issues? There are many ways, but putting a proudly narcissistic, neo-fascist bully in the White House isn’t one of them. I want to apologize to my friends Abby Martin, Michael Donnelly and Jeffrey St. Clair for saying anything good about Hillary. “I feel your pain.” Hillary is our Hubert Humphrey. Like most career politicians, she’s riddled with corruption from lobbyists, banks and the Military Industrial Complex, to name a few, and she can’t keep her damn emails under control. Though anyone Ben Carson ties to “Lucifer” has got to be at least somewhat cool. Seriously, there is a difference between corruption and the critically sociopathic incompetence of the buffoon with the funny hair and the millions of lunatic, racist, sexist bullies he emboldens if he wins.

These are scary times for progressives, but doing this show helped me and watching it might help you to confront the fear and fear-mongering with courage and bonobo love.

Prime Mates. Photo: Peter Edwards

© July 24, 2016. 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.

Need to talk? Sext? Webcam? Do it here. Have you watched the show? No? Feel the sex. Don’t miss the Forbidden Photographs—Hot Stuff, look at them closely here. Join our private social media Society. Join us live in studio 😊. Go shopping. Gift shop or The Market Place. DrSusanBlock.tv, real sex TV at your toe tips. Sex Clips Anyone? FASHION, we have fashion! We also have politics. Politics? Have you Read the book? No? How about the Speakeasy Journal? Click here. Ok, how about some free sex advice?

Length 01:52:51 Date: Dec. 29th, 2018

by Dr. Susan Block

Sandwiched between our memories of 2018 and our fantasies of 2019, in our final DrSuzy.Tv broadcast of 2018, from the Womb Room sanctuary deep within the Little Love Church of the Bonobo Way in Bonoboville, we present the 7th Annual SUZY Awards for 2018.

Presenting The SUZYs 2018 on the cusp of 2019 with My bubbly assistant Blossom Green, DrSusanBlock.Tv technical director Abe Bonobo & Stormy Daniels the Blow-Up Doll. Photo: Jux Lii

Honoring excellence in broadcast artistry and exhibitionism, the DrSusanBlock.Tv Awards, a.k.a., “The SUZYS,” recognize erotic performance, sexual intelligence and Weapons of Mass Seduction, celebrating The Bonobo Way of peace through pleasure in all kinds of weather and paying tribute, with love, humor and deep respect, to those who work and play in the fields of peace and sexuality.

First Nip Slip of 2019! Photo: Selfie

Yes indeed, Brothers and Sisters, Lovers and Sinners, well before XBIZ, the AVNs, the TEAs, the Oscars, the Grammies, the Emmys, the Webbys, the VMAs, the SAGs and the Golden Globes launch their awards into the starry skies of the global village, “The Greatest Sexuality Show on Earth” is here to give you the Good News of the best of 2018 with The SUZYs!

The SUZYs 2018: Mr. Banana, Blossom, Ana, gagged tRUMP, Dr. Suzy, Clemmy, Onyx Photo: Jux Lii

Our goal, as always (besides having a cum-ton of fun), is to advance the cause of sex education and research, inspire better erotic entertainment with a more sex-positive and sapiosexually stimulating aesthetic, save the real bonobos from extinction and support a bonoboësque ethos in the world.

Making Love to Our SUZY Award – Photos: Onyx Devall

Speaking of “ethos,” our Bonoboville Ethics Committee has, since our inception, stipulated that DrSuzy.Tv staff members, no matter how deserving, are ineligible to receive SUZY awards.

ANNOUNCING the SUZYS 2018 PHOTOS: JUX LII

However, because we were raised in the United States of Everybody-Gets-an-Award, we do give a special DrSuzy.Tv “staff award” to our beloved staff, a kind of “thank you for your service” award.

Checking out the Listicle of some of our favorite (and least favorite) folks. Photo: Onyx Devall

Otherwise, all award winners are selected from guest or “product” appearances on the 42 live broadcasts ofThe Dr. Susan Block Show in 2018. Not all awards are “good,” as you’ll see, especially towards the end of the “Politics & Sex” category; there are some booby prizes for the deserving.

So, without further ado, here it is, another sparkling listicle of some of the world’s greatest sexperts, sexpots, artists, exhibitionists, activists, visionaries, revolutionaries, hot bonoboesque babes and dirty rotten bastards who have appeared, been placed, praised or parodied on The Dr. Susan Block Show throughout this amazing year.

And the winners are….

#GoBonobos

• “Most Bonobo” – Juici Jenni
• “Most Bonobo Couple” – Danièle Watts & Chef Be*Live
• “Most Bonobo Celebrity” – Ashley Judd
• “Best Bonobo Conservation” – Lola ya Bonobo
• “Best Bonobo Conservation” – Bonobo Conservation Initiative
• “Best Bonobo Promotion” – The Bonobo Project
• “Most Bonobo Off-Campus Interview” – Greg Friedman, Inner Journey
• “Staff Award” – DrSuzy-Tv Staff

Porn for the People!

• “Hottest Sex” – Lexi Lore & Eric John
• “Most Joyous Sex”- Lexi Lore & Bryan Jameson
• “Best Big Booty” – Mimosa
• “Hottest Masturbator” – Eva Yi
• “Hottest Porn Starlet” – Athena Rayne
• “Most Cunning Linguist” – Ron Jeremy
• “Hottest Hopper” – Amputee Brittney
• “Best Blow-Up Doll Sex Act” – Siouxsie Q James
• “Sexiest Cougar” – Sally Mullins
• “Most Sapiosexual” – Riley Reyes
• “Best Female Ejaculation”- Juici Jenni
• “Most Enthusiastic Pornstar” – Danni Dawson
• “Most Congenial Sex Worker” – Kacy TGirl
• “Best Masturbation Confession” – Lexi Mansfield
• “Quirkiest Porn Performer” – Veronica Rainbow Scum
• “Hottest Motorbunny Ride” – Elle Voneva

Kink, Fetish & BDSM

• “Most Dazzling Domme” – Goddess Phoenix
• “Best Snaketail Whip” – Mistress Cyan
• “Sexiest FemDom” – Madam Raven Rae
• “Most Well-Rounded Kinkster” – Rhiannon Aarons
• “Best Animal Play Monarch” – Madame Margherite
• “Most Beautiful Ball-Kicker” – Goddess Virgin
• “Most Timely Fetish” – Gas Mask Girl
• “Best Submissive” – Bratty Wolfie
• “Most Colorful FemDom” – Mistress Bella Bathory
• “Best Wrestler” – Mistress Kara
• “Most Elegant FemDom” – Mistress Damiana Chi
• “Best Trump Voodoo Doll CBT” – Mistress Porcelain Midnight
• “Best Dressed Dom” – Jack Friday
• “Cutest Kinky Couple” – Mistress Mina & Jake Dill
• “Best Dog & Mistress Act” – Mother Tink & Fizzgig
• “Best Hand Spanking” – Jenna Rotten
• “Hottest Humiliatrix” – She God Claire
• “Best Attitude Adjustment” – Madame DeSade Fatale
• “Tastiest Nude Cake Server”- Mpenzi Barbie
• “Best Bonobo Way Book-Spanking” – Lola Bastinado
• “Best Bonobo Way Book-Spankee” – Brigitte Bucchanan

Erotic Arts & Media

• “Best Comeback Artist” – Sheree Rose
• “Best Cosplay” – Dorian Black & Peggy Reynolds
• “Sexiest Dancer” (female) – Diamond
• “Sexiest Dancer” (male) – Andy the Gypsy
• “Best Burlesque” – Veronica Voss
• “Sexiest Clown” (female) – Vespa Synd
• “Sexiest Clown” (male) – Michael Vegas
• “Hottest Rawkstar” – Chef Be*Live
• “Best Levitator” – Special Head, aka Danny Wolverton
• “Best Hair (Natural)” – Zivu A’ balam Lucas
• “Best Hair (Fake)” – Queerella Fistalot
• “Best Hair Stylist” – Mark Brown
• “Best Blast from the Past” – Misti Dawn
• “Happiest Comedian” – Anthony Davis
• “Funniest Comedienne” – Sunshine McWane
• “Most Intuitive” – Susanna Brisk
• “Most Deadpan Funnyman” – Lamar D. Sol
• “Sexiest Sexual Healer” – Shana Lay
• “Sexiest Filmmaker” – Moushumi Ghose, MA MFT
• “Best Sex-Positive Networker” – Wry Mantione
• “Sexiest Shaman” – Shaminatrix Missy Galore
• “Hanukkah Candle Race Winner” – Abdullah Saeed
• “Best Selfie Artist” – Indy Sterning

Sexy Music

• “Hottest Rapper“ – Ikkor the Wolf
• “Sexiest Singer” – Elena Rayn (clip)
• “Sweetest Singer” – Jezebel Sweet
• “Best Spanking Song” – Carmina Formosa [ai] “The Kinkster”
• “Best Pianist” – Nori Carter
• “Best Aria” – Surka Noelle
• “Sexiest Spoken Word” – Tuesday Conner
• “Funniest Singer” – Lahna Turner
• “Hottest Electric Violin” – Wicked
• “Most Soulful Singer” – Sunny War
• “Best MJ/Prince Impersonator” – Omar the “Prince of Pop”
• “Best Sax” – Professor Oni

“Best Sax” – Professor Oni! Photo: Onyx Devall

Hottest Stuff

• “Best Liqueur” – Agwa de Bolivia Herbal Coca Leaf Liqueur
• “Best Leather” – JuxLeather
• “Best Aphrodisiac” – Cannabelly Cookies
• “Best Sex Educational Puppet” – Wondrous Vulva Puppet
• “Best Condoms” – Glyde America Vegan Condoms
• “Hottest Sex Toy” – Motorbunny (clip)
• “Most Orgasmic Sex Toy” – Hitachi Magic Wand
• “Best Alien Dildos” – Bad Dragon
• “Best Classic Orgasmic Ride” – Sybian
• “Best Blow-Up Doll” – Adult Warehouse Outlet
• “Best Latex” – Demask
• “Best Latex Dress” – The Latex Store
• “Most Dazzling Gift: The Fiber-Optic Whip” – Goddess Phoenix
• “Funniest Gifts” – Jacob Sokoloff
• “Most Sacred Dildos” – Divine Interventions

Sex & Politics

• “Best Trump Buster” – Stormy Daniels
• “Most Bonobo Resistance Movement” – Dominatrixes Against Donald Trump
• “Best at Beating Trump” – Mistress Tara Indiana
• “Best Strap-On Trump Stuffing” – Goddess Soma Snakeoil
• “Best Stormy Daniels” – Rhiannon Aarons
• “Best ‘Be Best’ Melania” – Miss Antoinette
• “Best Porno Ivanka” – Lexi Lore
• “Best Trump High-Healing” – Mistress Katarina
• “Best Golden Showers on Trump” – Goddess Lillith
• “Biggest Trump Baby” – Tim Sewall
• “Best Russian Pee Party Trump” – Nemo
• “Weirdest Trump” – Jeeves
• “Best Naked Trump” – Michael Q. Schmidt
• “Most Bonobo Political Activist” – Chris Gagliardi
• “Best Trump Pee Pad Art” – Jeffrey Vallance
• “Sexiest Political Art” – Neverwuz, Scott Siedman
• “Sexiest Street Art”- Plastic Jesus
• “Funniest Fundamentalist Refugee” – Luzer Twersky
• “Sexiest Trump Voter – Tammie Parrott
• “Best Putin” – Danièle Watts
• “Sexiest Journalism” – Counterpunch
• “Biggest Shithole” – Donald J. Trump
• “Biggest Bunch of Shitholes” – S. Congress
• “Biggest Bunch of Billionaire Shitholes” – Trump Cabinet
• “Worst Cuckold” – Paul Manafort

See 2017’s Winners.
See 2016’s Winners.
See 2015’s Winners.
See 2014’s winners.
See 2013’s Winners.
See 2012’s Winners.

Big Congrats to the winners and hugs to the losers (though once again, Luzer is a winner). There’s lots of time to win for 2019!

Actually, The 2018 SUZYs is the awards show that almost wasn’t. Less than a week ago, I was being hoisted out of Bonoboville on a stretcher by a couple of fine, strapping young paramedics. Once again, I was teetering on the edge of life and death, unable to breathe, my “sensitive” sinuses and lungs essentially choking on climate change here in America’s most polluted city.  

GasMask Chic

One of the many insidious “side effects” of all our virtually unbridled capitalism, “freed” to do even greater damage by tRump and his ecocidal appointees, is an uptick in human (and probably other animal) respiratory illnesses.

Maybe I’m developing a Mask Fetish.

Development assessors rarely take into consideration that the very air we inhale is becoming more poisonous, for some of us more than others, though these rising levels of toxicity can’t be “good” for anybody.

On the other hand, I am deeply grateful for modern human technology since it—along with Capt’n Max’s love—is what saved my life, once again. Thank goddess, they didn’t have to put me on one of those nightmare breathing tubes that goes down like you’re being viciously throat-raped by a sadistic AI robot. Instead, they stuffed my face into a strappy black mask that forced gales of oxygen up my nose. It hurt a little, but it was a good hurt — it felt like a necessary hurt and it really resurrected me.

GasMaskGirl wins the 2018 SUZY award for “Most Timely Fetish.” Photo: Onyx Devall

Also the mask reminded me of one of those cool fetish gasmask like GasMaskGirl wears. So when I give GasMaskGirl the SUZY award for “Most Timely Fetish,” I really mean it.

With the wildfires, flu season, active construction and all the inherent issues of the Great Dying, more and more of us are wearing masks for one reason or another. Might as well enjoy the eroticism of it.

Back to Life with Ana & Blossom: Happy 2019! Photo: Jux Lii

Big thanks to those strapping first responders, as well as the wonderful doctors and nurses at the first hospital they took me to (which, like Trump giving away the location of the Navy Seals, I gave away on the show, but I’m not going to do again here) and the good folks at Kaiser Permanente. You all win SUZYs.

Which brings me back to the awards, and since it’s almost New Year’s, I’m wearing the traditional cardboard New Year’s hat, except on top of one of my other “Mistress of the Airwaves” hats. Two-hat chic.  As is traditional, we don’t invite any of the winners, or anyone at all to the award show itself. In fact, we discourage our Speakeasy members from attending this one between the holidays evening, though all are invited to tune in live as I announce the winners, with the bubbly, popper-popping help of my adorable assistant Blossom Green.

Blossom bubbles, pops & cheers by our awesome new Bonoboville Communion Bed Bar, with Agwa, Absente Absinthe, Magellan Gin, Pango Rum, Poir Liqueur, Rhum Barbancour & more(!), as I announce The SUZY Awards 2018. Photo: Onyx Devall

Two new Speakeasy members, Marvin from Santa Clarita and Mohammad from Tehran, show up to enjoy the proceedings from the bar. Later, when I’m wondering why Marvin is so sanguine about the ever-worsening California wildfires, I ask him what kind of work he does. “I install sprinkler systems,” he replies. No wonder he doesn’t mind the fires.

Mohammad & Marvin, our two new Speakeasy members, get The Bonobo Way! Photo: Abe

Mohammad, who works in “computers” is a real jet-setter of our times, traveling back and forth fairly often between the U.S. where he works and his native country of Iran.

Mohammad Pops! Photo: Jux Lii

I’m sure that’s challenging with Trump’s Muslim ban and disturbing tendency to demonize Iran, but Mohammad just shrugs and says it’s not so bad.

Post-Popper 2018 SUZY Awards Bliss. Photo: Jux Lii

Though he does appreciate some of the boobie prizes I give Trump Crime Family, especially the “Worst Cuckold” award for Paul “The Oligarch-Fellator” Manafort.

The Clemmy Show

In between awards, we celebrate our favorite Cockatoo’s birthday yet again.

Blow Clemmy Blow! Photo: Jux Lii

She’s Marlena Dietrich-sexy in her bartender’s white shirt, vest and dandy grey tweed frock coat, blowing out her candles and reveling in her Clemmy cake, even though the day before she’d confessed to a bit of that age-old childhood birthday trauma: having your birthday fall between the holidays “sucks.”

She certainly makes up for lost birthdays, sucking the cake off my finger, as well as Blossom’s and—with especially sensuous panache—her girlfriend Amy’s sweet saucy digit.

Birthday Splosh. Photo: Onyx DeVall

Why not a bit of splosh for the Down Under designer of Dr. Susan Block’s Speakeasy Journal, first edition: SPLOSH ‘n’ ART.

When she’s not bartending, gallivanting or canoodling with Amy, she’s hard at work designing our next issue, the title of which is SPANK ‘n’ ART, so of course, after the cake-sploshing, we have to give our beloved, naughty girl a good hard-as-a-magazine over-the-knee (OTK) birthday spanking.

Bottoms up for the Birthday Gal

Whereupon she throws off her frock coat and dives over all six of our wiggling, giggling knees. Ahhh… Birthdays in Bonoboville. Clemmy being ageless, I let her pick the number of spanks she gets, and she chooses 25, and that’s what she gets, with a few more to grow on, because I said so.

Birthday Spanking for the SPANK magazine designer! Photo: Jux Lii

I prefer to spank a happy nude rear—it’s so much more sensuous, not to mention easier on the hand—but our darling neo-Victorian Clemmy insists on keeping her very thick jeans on, so I forego the hand to give her a good solid book-spanking with an unfinished proof copy of our soon-to-be-published SPANK magazine, with Amy, looming in a big black hat, holding her and her mic for dear life up front and Blossom giggling at her feet.

Why not spank our Speakeasy Journal designer’s saucy birthday bottom with the proof of the new magazine, since she really does have to finish it soon, hopefully in time for the holiday spankings of Lupercalia.   Plus, the little post-it notes flying out from the pages as I whack her tough behind look like New Year’s confetti, office-style.

I also give Blossom a light New Year’s spank on her not-so-nude but still very nice and very sparkly rear with “Most Dazzling Domme” ” Goddess Phoenix’s also award-winning fiber-optic whip.

Though it’s just us locals in the Womb Room, plus Marvin and Mohammad—what a pair!—this show features plenty of action in the form of clips we play of several of the award-winning erotic performances (all of which you can watch à la carte on Clip-O-Rama). Kudos to Gideon for editing the clips, and big thanks to Harry Sapien for organizing amazing images of the winners, making the SUZY Awards 2018 a real show of shows.

Spanking in the New Year on Blossom’s bottom. Photo: Onyx DeVall

No, we’re not sponsored by the NRA (we’re for cocks, not glocks), though to celebrate each award’s announcement, Blossom detonates a popper that sounds more like a gunshot than a party accessory, or maybe I’m just “sensitive.”

The Pro-Sex Anti-Award Awards

In a way, the SUZYs are the pro-sex, anti-award awards.

SUZY award Selfie

While some of our categories are serious, many are parodies, and there are the booby prizes. It’s up to you to figure out which is which. As always, we are safety and ecology-minded, carefully placing a Glyde America Vegan Condom on the golden head of our SUZY statuette, crafted by Clemmy in the Bonoboville arts & crafts department from a “World’s Best Person” award Max got me at the Hilton during DomCon. At optimal balance, it looks like a latex halo or one of my hats, though it has a tendency to fall off, like too-big condoms do, with the slightest jiggle. Also, this year’s halo-condom is cherry red, so it has a bit of a demonic look.

Most of our winners get digital awards to show off in all their social media. The ones that visit us again get “I Won a SUZY” buttons, and an occasional few do the “paperwork” to get an actual inscribed statuette, with or without the condom. Seriously, the award can and has been used as a dildo by some of the winners, and we do not find that the least bit dishonorable. Just don’t let the condom fall off, especially if you’re sharing.

Popper-gagging & punishing our Trumpus Voodoo Doll (it works!) with his 2018 “Biggest Shithole” SUZY award. Photo: Selfie

After a year that was awesome and awful, terrific and terrible—and Trumpible, with much of the terror Trumped up from the top, trickling down to We the People, whether you loved or hated it—this year is in the rear. 

With Capt’n Max in three hats & Jux by the Tree checking his phone. Photo: Selfie

Thus, with a fond farewell to 2018’s 42 great shows, a Merry New Year,a very Happy Nude Rear to the coming new year, and a bellyful of Jux Lii’s deliciously potent Cannabelly cookies, off we disperse, like confetti or human post-its, into the chilly New Year’s night.

Slipping into the theater under the covers withmy Captain, wegrab, spank and squeeze each other’s tired but very Happy Nude Rears, as well as various other aforementioned shenanigans, generating almost shockingly huge, organic, non-fossil-fuel burning award-winning grand-finale climax(es).

Award-Winning Love. Photo: Selfie

Not bad for a couple of old RƎVO˩utionaries steering the Good Ship Bonoboville through the stormy seas of the Trumpocalypse, one of whom couldn’t breathe the other day. Praise be to the power and glory of sex and the tantric 4-7-8 Breath of Power. Amen and awomen.  

Meanwhile, congrats to the winners! We obviously love you (unless you got a booby prize). Happy Nude Rear! Hope to see you back on the show in 2019! With 2019 uncertain as the weather, join us on the path of peace through pleasure. Share your views or show off your talents, be a guest on the show. Join the sapiosexual conversation, the inter-arts integration, the pansensual exploration and the erotic resistance on the Greatest Sexuality Show on Earth. Maybe you’ll win an award.

© Dec. 30, 2018. 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.

READ My New Year’s Resolution: #GoBonobos in 2019 in the blog or in COUNTERPUNCH

Need to talk? Sext? Webcam? Do it here. Have you watched the show? No? Feel the sex. Don’t miss the Forbidden Photographs—Hot Stuff, look at them closely here. Join our private social media Society. Join us live in studio 😊. Go shopping. Gift shop or The Market Place. DrSusanBlock.tv, real sex TV at your toe tips. Sex Clips Anyone? FASHION, we have fashion! We also have politics. Politics? Have you Read the book? No? How about the Speakeasy Journal? Click here. Ok, how about some free sex advice?

Length 01:32:42 Date: June 22nd, 2019

by Dr. Susan Block.

It’s still LGBTQ Pride Month, and I am a walking, talking, licking, sucking rainbow of love.

Happy Pride Month 2019! Photo: Harry Sapien

Shout-out to the amazing Texas Geyser of Desire, bisexual squirting MILF Queen Deauxma, for giving me my slinky gay pride scarf.

However, like many, I have noticed that Pride has gone corporate, and I have mixed feelings about that.

Apple Pride.

Now sponsored by Wells Fargo, Walmart, T-mobile, Bud Light, Apple and other huge commercial enterprises, Pride parades are no longer revolutionary.

First Pride Parade: Gay Liberation Day on Christopher Street in 1970

That first Pride March, the 1970 Christopher Street Gay Liberation March on the one-year anniversary of the Stonewall rebellion, the amazing spontaneous riots against the ongoing police raids of the Stonewall Inn, a bootlegged dive bar owned by the Genovese Mafia Crime Family, on June 28th, 1969 (yay ’69!)–now that was revolutionary.

The only authentic photo of the Stonewall Rebellion

Now fully armed gay police march in uniform in Pride Parades.

Now armed cops march with Pride.

A lot of people love it, and the cops look like they’re having a ball, but it makes me queasy to see them strutting down the rainbow-strewn street with their guns and ammo, especially with so much police brutality still harming LGBTQ people, especially migrants and other people of color.

Lter in the show, three-time SUZY award winner Chris Gagliardi calls in to share his emotional experience watching Englewood, New Jersey City Hall raise the Rainbow Flag. Tale like this make me happy that Gay Pride has gone mainstream.

Macy’s at Pride 2019

But Pride Marches are now like a Macy’s Day Parade with rainbows instead of turkeys, and not much wild public sex anymore (don’t want to offend those corporate sponsors). Gay Pride, once a force for radical change, is becoming just another revenue stream into the capitalistic corporatization of human life that is destroying all life on the Earth.

As My Rainbow Shades attest, I am NOT on the side of the Pride Anti-Party Brigade. Photo: Bianca

On the flip side, a Straight Pride Parade is in the works, gearing up to mock LGBTQ “identity politics,” being put forth by a group of dangerous dorks called Resist Marxism who have organized racist gathering and guns rights rallies, as well as having leaked neo-Nazi affiliations. We the people need to get more Marxist (or Bernie-style Dem-socialist) and resist the juggernaut of corporate fascist capitalism before it kills us all.

Not that I’m in the side of the anti-party brigade. Pride has been about pleasure and the LGBTQ right to party since Stonewall. Like Emma Goldman, “If I can’t dance, it’s not my revolution”(even though she didn’t exactly say it that way).

By the way, bonobos are gay and that’s okay! Actually Pan paniscus is pansexual!

Mad Moderator Teaser

Capt’n Max and I just got back from AASECT in Philly. I got to see Billy Penn, eat Hoagies, deliver the Bonobo Way, and deal with the Mad Moderator of AASECT, Ms. Roz Dischiavo, EdD, MA, CSE, CSES. I know you want to hear the details of this debacle, and they are coming soon to this Journal. I would have finished it this weekend, but I had this show to do, as well as this show blog. So, stay tuned for the full, unexpurgated story of the Mad Moderator of AASECT that powerful people are now begging me not to tell.

Mad Moderator AASECT teaser talk. Photo: Harry Sapien

As those of you who know me know, I scrupulously protect my sex therapy clients’ privacy and confidentiality. But Roz is not my client. Like the bonobos, I’m a lover, not a fighter. Max relishes a good fight, but I hate it. I just want everyone to get along. However, if someone assaults me (mostly verbally, though there was a bit of close-range spitting), I have no choice but to fight back… if I want to be able to look at myself in the mirror with… well, pride. And you know I love to look at myself in the mirror—or selfie stick (lol).

Pride Selfie: I couldn’t take it if I shirked the Truth.

You’d think a gathering of sex therapists might be sexy, but no, not exactly, at least not for me. Aside from a couple of super duper orgasms with Capt’n Max, my sexiest couple hours was chatting on the plane with an about-to-get-married guy about cuckolding and sperm wars.

The theme of the conference was “Let the Body Rejoice,” but aside from Max, my body was most touched, as well as groped and poked, not in an AASECT session, where touch is essentially not allowed, but in a TSA pat-down! In order to get on the plane, I guess you could say I “consented” to this groping, but you could certainly call it “coerced.”

Ana and Miguel laugh at my TSA jokes while Luzer checks his phone. Photo: Bianca

Listen above, watch the show on DrSuzy.Tv or check out the censored version on Facebook Live for the gory, gropey details.

Hello Sunshine!

Introducing Miss Sunshine McWane!

Introducing My New Show Assistant Sunshine McWane! Photo: Bianca

Sometime striptease artist, all-the-time comedienne and all-around sweetheart, Sunshine has been a guest on DrSuzy.Tv several times, most recently playing the role of the sacrificial goat in our Lupercalia Bacchanal.

Sunshine Selfie. Check out that Weiner!

She’s also in one of the photos in our brand spanking NEW Speakeasy Journal: SPANK ‘n’ ART, censored by Amazon, but available for YOU.

Now Sunshine is my new on-camera assistant, decked out for the occasion in pride-ish colors, with a juicy-looking hot dog garnished with squiggly squirts of relish that says “I <3 Weiners” emblazoned upon her chest.

PHOTO 1: BIANCA.  PHOTOS 2-3: HARRY SAPIEN

And yes, Sunshine is her real name, given to her by her mom in North Carolina.

In the after-party, Sunshine avidly licks my Pride Lolly… and a little bit more.

PHOTOS 1, 3, 4: BIANCA.  PHOTO 2: HARRY SAPIEN

Speaking of dildonic devices, during my talk about TSA’s aggressively gropey pat-down, Sunshine chimes in that whenever she flies, they steal her vibrator. 

Gay Pride Dildo Doggie-Style. Photo: Harry Sapien

This is why I always pack my sex toys in cargo.

Twersky in Palestine

Luzer Twersky, three-time SUZY award winner for “Funniest Fundamentalist Refugee,” is back from shooting “No Name Restaurant,” a German film in which he plays a Brooklyn Jew who gets lost in the desert and is saved by a Bedouin.

Luzer Twersky gets ready for his big DrSuzy.Tv interview. Photo: Bianca

The filming took place in Jordan, Israel and Palestine. What a wild country combo. What an adventure!

Talking with Luzer Twersky about his latest adventures filming “No Name Restaurant” in Palestine, Jordan and Israel. Photo: Bianca

A former Satmar Hasidic Orthodox Jew, Luzer now an atheist mentored by Penn Gillette, who I interviewed, along with Teller (the silent one; though in the interview, he talked more than Penn) for the San Francisco Bay Guardian 30 years ago before he got famous. Still, it’s kind of amazing that he went to areas where Israelis aren’t allowed to go, and Jews aren’t usually welcome either. Then again, Luzer’s a winner at weaseling his way into places—in every sense.

Sunshine enjoys Luzer’s stories. Photo; Harry Sapien

He regales us with amazing and disturbing stories regarding the highly restricted and perilous lives under Israeli occupation led by the Palestinians he befriended. One poor guy was on the road near an Israeli checkpoint when his engine sputtered. He got out of the car to see what the matter was and, within minutes, an Israeli soldier shot him (assuming that if he left the vehicle, it must be rigged with a bomb)! When the guy’s friend came to help, the soldier shot him dead.

Of course, this is unconscionable. Horrifying. How can this be perpetrated by people whose great grandparents lived, and often died equally horrible deaths, in the Nazi holocaust?

Luzer’s a funny guy, but some of his anecdotes of Palestinian life are horrific. Photo: Harry Sapien

Luzer’s experience gives him a nuanced perspective of the multi-faceted inferno of Israel/Palestine. Several of his relatives live in Israel, including a sister whose backyard was hit by a Palestinian rocket that almost killed her whole family. Now he has Palestinian friends who have to constantly deal with the grim reality of occupation, the constant possibility of sudden death or injury, and suffocating restriction of their movements.

If Luzer ever gets laryngitis, he can always talk with his hands. Photo: Harry Sapien

He compares the way Israeli soldiers, many as young as 19, perceive Palestinians as uniformly threatening to the way American police racially profile African-Americans. It’s an apt comparison, but no excuse for either group, especially when the deadly bigotry is stoked in various, insidious ways by leaders in American police forces and the Israeli army. Instead, this racist attitude should be extinguished and countered with training in non-lethal conflict de-escalation. That’s the Bonobo Way.

Even under occupation, some Palestinians manage to lead what we might call “normal” lives, especially in Ramallah on the West Bank (which is less treacherous than Gaza), which Luzer visited in between shooting scenes in the ancient Biblical town of Jericho (fortunately, the walls didn’t come “tumbling down,” at least not while he was filming). He talks about the wide variety of attitudes that different Palestinians have toward Israel. Still, it’s sad to hear about the day-to-day limits of life in Palestine, where even if you have the money to buy a house, you don’t dare to because you never know when the Israelis might blow it up, or just claim it’s theirs. 

Presenting: Tales of Twersky on DrSuzy.Tv. Photo: Bianca

What about sex? Our lusty Luzer had quite a bit, of course, all with Israeli ladies. Not that he wouldn’t have expanded his horizons, but all the Jordanians were in burqas and, when he managed to *get* a Palestinian gal to check into a hotel with him, the desk clerk wouldn’t let them in because they’re not married.

With Luzer, showing off Sunshine in SPANK ‘n’ ART. Photo: Harry Sapien

Speaking of sex, after the show, Luzer tells me that in shopping for an RV, he told a salesman he works with the Dr. Susan Block Show, and lo and behold, the guy has been a fan since my HBO days! Hopefully, now he’ll give him a good deal.

Hanging out with the winning Luzer post-show, talking about our fans in RV sales. Photo: Bianca

Breaking news: Luzer got an RV from the guy who used to watch the show and is now going to start watching again! And yes, he got a good deal.

Trump Camps

Back to the heavier notes: tRump is threatening ICE raids and mass deportations, one day saying he’s going to round up millions, the next day saying he won’t. Will he or won’t he? People are going nuts with fear, and that appears to be the point here.

Meanwhile, the tRump administration is torturing children in refugee camps, aka concentration camps. No, they’re not death camps where inmates are deliberately exterminated… yet. So, people who hold the Nazi Holocaust against the Jews (and many others, including LGBTQ) as sacred can quit whining that it’s an unfair comparison. These are concentration camps for kids, and they’re worse than prisons. Since Camp Commandant-in-Chief likes to put his shithole name on everything, we could also call them “Trump Camps,” aka #TrumpCamps. Children are being drugged, denied food, beds, soap, diapers and medicine while forced to sleep on concrete with the lights on. They’re being abused and sexually assaulted. All of this is currently being defended in the courts by another evil incoherent blonde Trump lawyer named Sarah Fabian. I don’t particularly *like* most children (come see me when you’re over 18), but the immorality of this situation is shocking. Again, that appears to be the point.

Cruelty is tRump policy.

For this reason and many others, I agree with AOC: The President Needs to be Impeached!

Keeping the Camp Commandant under gag order with a penis pacifier on Jeffrey Vallance Art Trump Puppy Pee Pad. Photo: Bianca

More tRump news: the Orange Menace raped another one: Longtime Elle advice columnist E Jean Carroll in Bergdorf’s dressing room!

Here’s tRump chatting with E. Jean Carroll whom he claims to have never met.

Speaking of which, I spent tRump’s bday (6/15) with his 11th sexual assault victim to come forward, the lovely Jessica Drake. Apparently, his tiny hands were all over her like a TSA agent without her consent on the same weekend he had sex with Stormy Daniels. I show the “11” on my palm in bonobo female solidarity with Jessica’s courage in coming forward despite the Liar-in-Chief denying everything and doing all he can to degrade his accusers.

Showing the 11 on my palm in solidarity with tRump’s 11th sexual assault accuser, Jessica Drake. Photo: Harry Sapien

I’m so embarrassed that tRump’s a Gemini! This is why we keep the Presidunce under gag order with a penis pacifier while in Bonoboville.

Bonoboville Communion Comes Back

To celebrate Pride, as well as surviving the assault of the Mad Moderator of AASECT, Luzer’s return and Sunshine joining our merry crew, we perform our First Communion in our new space!

Breaking out the Agwa de Bolivia Herbal Coca Leaf Liqueur for our first Bonoboville Communion in the new space. Photo: Harry Sapien

So we break out the salt and Agwa de Bolivia Herbal Coca Leaf Liqueur.

Handsome Hollywood Jake & Beautiful Rica. Photo: Bianca

As if sent by the Heavenly Concierge, our favorite bartender from the old Bonoboville happens to drop in: Handsome Hollywood Jake and, as if his own handsome self isn’t enough, Jake brings along his adorable girlfriend Rica.

Jake pours the Agwa into the ceremonial shot glasses like a pro. It’s too much for Waterboarding Bonobo-Style, but he slurps off the excess, also like a pro.

Rica Sunshine Selfie

Sunshine and I settle in on the tiger rug which is really sheepskin, a gift from a fan; I would never buy animal skins, even if sheep aren’t any more endangered than chickens.

Boobalicious Sunshine and I settle in on the tiger pattern sheepskin rug. Photo: Harry Sapien

Bonoboville Communion is kind of like Catholic Communion, but vive la difference!

Hello Bonobos! Not you, Marky Z! Photo: Harry Sapien

No Facebook Live cameras allowed! Marky Z will turn into a porcupine if he so much as sees what Tumblr so disturbingly calls “a female presenting nipple.”

Sunshine takes Communion from My Altar. Photo: Harry Sapien

First, I play Altar Girl, as Sunshine “prepares the altar” by giving my nipple a nice lick.

From her Gay Pride towel, Betsy eyes Bonoboville Communion hungrily. Photo: Harry Sapien

I look over at Betsy the Dog, hoping she doesn’t get any ideas, then sprinkle on the sacred salt (“the body”), and she slurps that up. Next, she nestles her head between my thighs, and I perform Waterboarding Bonobo-Style on her open mouth. Bonzai!

First Waterboarding, Bonobo Style in the New Little Love Church of the Bonobo Way! Photo: Harry Sapien

Then I take Communion from one of Sunshine’s lovely, large, natural boobs.

I take Communion from Sunshine. Photo: Bianca

“I grew them in high school,” she explains, semi-sarcastically.

PHOTOS: HARRY SAPIEN

Then she waterboards me. Ooh la la!

Sunshine Waterboards Me. Photo: Harry Sapien

I feel like we’ve baptized our new little Love Church of the Bonobo Way: Let the Body Rejoice! Let the Mind be Free! Let the Spirit Soar!

Baptizing the New Bonoboville with Agwa. Photo: Harry Sapien

Amen and AWOMEN.

Show’s Over, Orgasms On

Then before we can say #GoBonobos, the show’s over.

I call Ana, wearing a rainbow pride lei, up “onstage” and we all blow kisses good-bye to all of you.

Ana joins the Summer Solstice Pride Players. Photo: Bianca

 Make like bonobos, not baboons. Make love, not war. Make love to someone you love tonight, even if that someone is YOU. I love you.

Practicing the Bonobo Way every day. Photo: Harry Sapien

I really do. I guess it doesn’t seem that way to some people, especially those that attack me. Then again, maybe they do it, like tRump, because cruelty is their policy. The Mango Mussolini has made cruelty very fashionable these days. Even folks that despise him seem to be getting into it, in their own particular ways.

I admit it; sometimes it’s tough to meet all this hate with love. But I will not surrender to the dark forces that take so many down these days. I will follow the Bonobo Way.

Capt’n Max makes “Dr. Suzy” possible. Photo: Selfie

I don’t know how I’d do it without Capt’n Max. In fact, I know I couldn’t do what I do without him—body, mind and spirit.

After the after-party, we collapse into our paradise of pillows, roll into each other’s arms and give each other healing orgasms that clear our sinuses and our souls, even if just for a few blissful minutes, then drift together “over the rainbow” in continuously ripening love.

Still Jet-Lagged in Love, Pre-Orgasm Selfie.

Happy Sunny Sapiosexual Summer Solstice, Brothers & Sisters!

© June 22, 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 310-568-0066.

Need to talk? Sext? Webcam? Do it here. Have you watched the show? No? Feel the sex. Don’t miss the Forbidden Photographs—Hot Stuff, look at them closely here. Join our private social media Society. Join us live in studio 😊. Go shopping. Gift shop or The Market Place. DrSusanBlock.tv, real sex TV at your toe tips. Sex Clips Anyone? FASHION, we have fashion! We also have politics. Politics? Have you Read the book? No? How about the Speakeasy Journal? Click here. Ok, how about some free sex advice?

Shannon Coronado, Jay Toriko, Ms. Tara Indiana, Me$$ed Up, Dr. Susan Block, Miss Sadie Synn, Miss Freudian Slit, Jacquie Blu, Donald Drumpf. Photo: Jux Lii

Length 1:47:02 Date: July 30, 2016

by Dr. Susan Block

Brothers and Sisters, Democrats and Republicans, Libertarians and Vegetarians, my fellow Americans, Humans, Great Apes and All of My Fellow Animals on Earth: welcome to the Lesser of Three Evils and the Greatest Sexuality Show on Earth! Welcome to the Trumpocalypse, the Clinton Corruptathon, and this amazing show of FemDom politics and fun smack in the middle of this erotic neurotic and kind of psychotic Election Season. USA! USA!

Welcome to the Trumpocalyse. Photo: Sarah Bella

Yes indeed, the DNC is over. They did it better than the RNC. The DNC speakers acted like grown-ups, not big babies or bullies. Nobody mocked anybody for physical disabilities. Nobody called for anybody to be executed by firing squad. Nobody threw the Sieg Heil. Nobody got caught plagiarizing their speeches.

But the Donkeys did copy the Elephants’ awful national anthem, braying, “USA! USA! USA!” exulting in the odious “accomplishments” of America’s biggest export, our bloated, enormously destructive Military-Industrial Complex. Really guys (and gals), it’s vulgar for the richest, most militaristic country on Earth to brag about how rich and militaristic we are. Didn’t your mamas teach you to have a little humility? Well, let Me teach you then: It’s obnoxious, it’s insensitive, and it just might make folks in the countries we’re bombing double-mad at us, maybe even mad enough to sacrifice their lives and their sanity in another terror attack on our civilians. Yikes!  So please: Stop braying “USA!” and bragging about our military might and our soldiers, as if they’re a football team. Feel free to wave your flag, but remember that our brave armed forces are made up of paid volunteers, and it’s really sad when they die and get maimed, but it’s also sad when they kill and maim civilians, and now most of America’s killing and maiming is done not soldiers facing death themselves, but by drones. So please: stop the killing and maiming, America—abroad and at home. And stop bragging about killing. Then maybe the terror will die down, and love will grow, like flowers, on its grave. It’s the Bonobo Way.

Beat Trump with The Bonobo Way.! Photo: Unscene Abe

So no, in the grand scheme, the Democratic Convention was not very bonobo, unless you’re comparing it to that gathering of neo-Nazi dingbats sailing under the flag of Trump University, Steaks and Failed Casinos the week before, in which case I’d have to say that it was downright bonoboësque. Everything is relative, after all, and the Dems did provide a Big Tent. The Bernie-or-Busters may not have been treated like royalty, but they got their say on the international stage, chanting “No More War!” as some military fetishists spoke. Our friend Abby Martin was arrested, which was terrible, but at least she was released within a few hours, and delivered her usual truth-telling reports without further interference.

Though the DNC’s military enthusiasm felt disturbingly ominous, there was not much bigotry. Indeed, a veritable rainbow of colors, genders and faiths graced the DNC stage, not just rabidly angry white men and Stepford Trump wives and daughters dressed in pseudo-virgin white. Many have called Hillary insincere and opportunistic for saying to Bernie supporters “Your cause is my cause.” I don’t disagree, but I do think it’s a lot better than calling them criminals punching bags as Trump calls his opponents and protestors.

The Donald vs. The Bill. Photo: Roberto Bonobo

And it made history. Hillary Clinton is the first woman nominated for President of the United States by a major party, and that’s a major victory for the Bonobo Way right there. But she’s not the first woman to run for president. Victoria Woodhull was the first woman to run for President. Shout-out to our friends at the Woodhull Sexual Freedom Foundation, including Nina Hartley, Danny O’Neill and Reid Mihalko, plus Ecosexuality co-editor SerenaGaia Anderlini D’Onofrio will be going to Woodhull for the first time.

Besides just being a woman, Hillary has one other essential quality: She’s not Trump. So I support her in her efforts to defeat him and what he represents. So do a lot of Republicans, which is nice, but where does that leave the state of the union? The Democrats sound as militaristic as Republicans, and the Republicans have gone off the deep end, possibly heralding the collapse of our two-party system into one, which isn’t exactly democracy. In my view, not only do we need two parties, we should have 12 parties: the Green Party, the Libertarian Party, the Vegetarian Party, the Block Party, the Party like a Bonobo Party and many more, including the Female Supremacy Party.

Which brings me back to this show, which is a kind of party for the Female Supremacy Party, presided over by international super-Dom and U.S. Presidential Candidate Tara Indiana, whipping America back into shape, one middle-aged white man at a time. Not to be racist or anything, but most of today’s world problems are caused by middle-aged and older white men like Big Guns-Small Dick Cheney, George Dubya Pussy-Bush & Donald Short-Fingers Trump.

Ms. Tara collars Trump on DrSuzy.Tv. Photo: Roberto Bonobo

Mistress Tara has been beating men like Donald Trump for 25 years, and that is why, on this historic live broadcast, I give her my support, my bonobo love and my endorsement in her courageous, comedic and kinky run for President of the United States. I’ve known Tara for over a decade, since we met at my Cinekink premiere of Squirt Salon back in 2005, and I can tell you this: she’s strong, she’s smart, she’s female and she’s fierce. But she’s never started or even voted for war like Hillary, and she’s never ripped off her workers like Trump. Ms. Tara is, in many ways, the Donald’s polar opposite, and she embodies the best aspects of Hillary with none of the political baggage: She’s tough, she’s shrewd, she’s dominant, she possesses a pussy, and she can handle being called a cunt and a bitch by enemies and admirers alike.

Back in 1993, I fell in love with Hillary as a Dominatrix as portrayed by Spy Magazine, the same folks who called “The Donald” a “short-fingered vulgarian” when he was first polluting America’s media atmosphere with his proud narcissism. Who cares if that was really Hillary’s body?  It looked and felt real to me. But alas, it was and is not real. Hillary is a war criminal, like many powerful national politicians in this country, not the gentle but firm, sexy, bonoboësque dominatrix that Spy caricature portrayed her to be.

Tara, on the other hand, is a real Dominatrix who can beat Trump and a lot of international blowhards, dick-tators and assholes with small penises and big mouths. As an alpha-Domme, President Tara will beat, gag and humiliate them, but she won’t kill them or bomb their countries. Tara’s election to the highest office in the land will empower fellow Dominas, as well as all kinds of other powerful women, successful businesswomen, politicians, mothers, grandmothers, sex workers and hot MILFS like her. That’s the Bonobo Way of FemDom Power in a Corset.

I endorse Tara on this show because, to be blunt (fire up that blunt!), I like her better than the other major candidates still in play. Maybe not Bernie, but he’s no longer running. As for voting, well, unlike Capt’n Max, who never votes, I sometimes do.  I voted for myself for President in 1992, I voted for the late great Frank Moore in 2008 when I was his running mate, and I’ve voted a few other times, when I feel the stakes are high… at least high enough to risk getting jury duty.

Ms. Tara administers Small Penis Humiliation to her opponent. Photo: Elizabeth Wohldmann

So if it seems like it’s going to be a close contest in California, I will certainly vote for Hillary, and I encourage all American voters to do the same, especially if you’re in swing states, to prevent the dark specter of Trumpism from trumping our democracy, such as it is. But if she’s got a healthy lead in your state, then you could vote Green or Pink or whatever hue matches your view. We’ll see as we get closer to November 8th (Capt’n Max’s birthday!), 2016.

So right now, while Election Day is more than three months off, and after these two conventions of terrible Trumpeting and boastful braying, I am cheerfully endorsing Tara for President on this great show that feels sort of like a kinky political convention, and definitely like a party.  And so to happy cheers, intoxicated applause and fervent cries of “Amen” and “Awomen,” I introduce “the next President of the USA”: Mistress Tara Indiana.

Mistress Tara shows us how to shut up Trump. Photo: Andy Martin

After the usual political pleasantries, we chat about the issues, macro and micro, Trump’s small penis problem, the political value of erotic humiliation (one of her projects is to send 1000 tiny dildos to his office), her plans to decriminalize sex work and marijuana use (promoting the peace and well-being of the populace and creating a ton of jobs), as well as her “enhanced” interrogation techniques that would allow an element of feminine sensuality to such common CIA practices as “anal food rape,” hiring top dominatrices (more jobs created!) as interrogators and torturers.

My other guests, hot Mistresses who also endorse Mistress Tara for President, include the voluptuous (42DD) and clever Miss Freudian Slit and the statuesque (6’5”) and stately Miss Sadie Synn, as well as adorable, androgynous Jay Toriko, and our own Jacquie Blu. Endorsements pour in from Mistress Genevieve (who introduced Tara and me back in 2005) and another favorite DrSuzy.Tv FemDom show guest since 2010, Snow Mercy.

The Womb Room cheers as Ms. Tara shows us exactly how she will “beat Trump” by actually beating, spanking, gagging and trampling upon our Donald Trump surrogate. Some say Trump would enjoy this too much, but that’s okay, as long as he takes his punishments for the harm his narcissistic, bigoted, bullying, babyish, small-penis-anxiety-fueled neo-fascism has already caused this country, and as long as he stays gagged.

Is Trump a better pony ride or president? Photo: Roberto Bonobo

A very bonobo political animal, Tara generously lets us each take a turn at “beating Trump,” including with The Bonobo Way, creating the sort of gal-gal camaraderie that makes bonobo gals “stronger together,” and can win elections. Ms Synn whacks him hard with her big hands and Jay rides Trump like a toy pony, and we all laugh at the fact that this big bully is much better-suited to being a pony ride in an adult amusement park than to being anyone’s Commander-in-Chief. I trample the wannabe Bully-in-Chief. It’s great fun and good sex therapy for the Trumpocalypse, brought to you by the Therapists Without Borders of the Block Institute. Call anytime!

Trampling Trump aka, “Trumpling.” Photo: Roberto Bonobo

Music is a big part of every political convention, including ours. Both the braying Donkeys and Trumpeting Tuskers call out for blessings from “God,” blithely ignoring America’s supposed “separation of Church and State.” So we follow suit, as our very own “Drunk Jesus,” up-and-cumming rapper Me$$ed Up, freestyles his way through Bonoboville before embarking on his big multi-college tour.

Drunk Jesus is Me$$ed Up. Photo: Sarah Bella

Here in the Womb Room, our “religion” includes our ritual of Bonoboville Communion, as well as “waterboarding,” bonobo-style with Agwa di Bolivia Herbal Coca Leaf Liqueur. Volunteering to be the “Altar Girl,” Miss Freudian Slit offers up her fabulous 44DDs for delectable Communions with Me$$ed Up and Jay Toriko. Freudian’s HUGE boobs serve to underline the smallness of Trump’s penis, mind and conscience, as well as to entertain the troops and give comfort to all who look upon them.

We also get the treat of seeing our bombshell bartender, Shannon Coronado, a vision in black and white, pouring the Agwa for the people.

With Shannon, Mistress of the Bar. Photo: Sarah Bella

Though this show is packed with action (not just political hot air!), we also take two calls, first from Chelsea Demoiselle, Dr. Susan Block Institute therapist and our own “bonobo-in-the-field,” responding to my observations about the hate comments from some DrSuzy.Tv listeners and viewers on social media, upset that we’re talking a bit more about politics these days. They would prefer that we just talk about sex. Tune in to hear our advice on how to fight the hate with love, the Bonobo Way.

There’s a lot of emotion in this election, and much at stake in terms of sexual rights. Crazy baby Trump aside, the Republican platform is filled with anti-sex, anti-female goals, such as repealing Roe vs. Wade and Gay Marriage in the Supreme Court, targeting porn-viewing as an “addiction,” and encouraging harmful “conversion” therapy for those attracted to the same sex. So we will keep being political, as well as sexual, throughout this important election season and beyond. If you don’t like it, change the channel to Rush Limbaugh or the Vivid Radio heavy breathers.

The second call comes in from a guy in rural, ultra-conservative Pennsylvania who calls himself “Donald.” I brace myself for an avalanche of expletives excoriating the Female Supremacy Party and the Bonobo Way. Instead, we are gratified to receive another endorsement of Tara for President, proving that there is hope for this great and complex country of ours sprouting up like corn from the Heartland.

When Tara proclaims her willingness to pander to voters, I ask her to put her boobies where her mouth is. She balks at first, saying it’s too much trouble to get her big natural bazoombas out of her buttoned up Presidential shirt and bra, she gives the voters what they want and proceeds to #FreetheNipple(s), whereupon the rest of us follow suit, and oodles of pretty titties and nippies come out, like confetti at a convention.

More spankings and Communions ensue with Jacquie, Jay and the world’s biggest baby/bully, Trumpty Dumpty who takes a great fall, at least on this show, and even gets trampled. It’s great Sex Therapy for the Trumpocalypse, Bonobo-style. Certainly, it release a lot of our frustrations through BDSM and laughter, and we hope it releases yours too.

U.S. Presidential Candidate Tara’s Enhanced Interrogation Team. Photo: Unscene Abe

Highlight of the Afterparty:  Auto-fellatio performed by Jay Toriko! Such talent we have on The Dr. Susan Block Show. Coming soon to Clip-O-Rama.

RƎVO˩utionaries. Photo: Unscene Abe

Up right now: My UC Berkeley talk on The Bonobo Way at the 5th International Conference on the Future of Monogamy and Nonmonogamy. Coming soon: The Bonobo Way of FemDom Power from DomCon LA. This Sunday: I’ll be talking about bonobos, sex, love and peace in beautiful, balmy Laguna Beach the Inner Journey on KX 93.5 FM with Greg Friedman. Catch us if you can sometime this summer. It’s a hot one. Stay bonobo.

© July 31, 2016. 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.

Need to talk? Sext? Webcam? Do it here. Have you watched the show? No? Feel the sex. Don’t miss the Forbidden Photographs—Hot Stuff, look at them closely here. Join our private social media Society. Join us live in studio 😊. Go shopping. Gift shop or The Market Place. DrSusanBlock.tv, real sex TV at your toe tips. Sex Clips Anyone? FASHION, we have fashion! We also have politics. Politics? Have you Read the book? No? How about the Speakeasy Journal? Click here. Ok, how about some free sex advice?