GFE and the VBB

Length: 85 minutes        Date: 04/16/2011

PG Pix Page.  X Pix and Vid at DrSusanBlock.tv

 In a sensuous flurry of lace and stiletto heels, Dr. Susan Block strides upon the Speakeasy stage to broadcast this show just minutes after delivering the opening address at the first annual Los Angeles Fetish Film Festival awards show in Hollywood.  Joining the Fetish Doctor  in-studio are a feast for certain fetishistic sensibilities: one of Britain’s most notorious and desirable former escorts and a troupe of BBW burlesque performers.  And the Commedia Erotica continues….

 Studio Guests include:

 Rebecca Dakin: in a sleek, elegantly skimpy pink frock given to her by one of her past clients (plus a pair of naughty nude knickers and matching high heels), this former high-priced escort was the child of  a “proper” British upbringing, complete with convent school before she got started in the “world’s oldest profession.” Now a published author, dating coach, infidelity expert and escort consultant, she has spent a lifetime mastering the art of seducing wealthy men, not just in bed, but also over dinner or perhaps the shooting range.  It’s all part of The Girlfriend Experience: My Fun & Adventurous Life as an Escort, the name of Rebecca’s book, from which she reads us an excerpt in her second appearance on The Dr. Susan Block Show  (listen to her first appearance on Porn Star Girlfriend).

 Scarlette VaVoom: vivacious redhaired leader of the Voluptuous Buxom Burlesque Entertainment Girls, a bigger-than-life burlesque dance troupe, proudly composed of BBWs who are not too shy to strut, shimmy, sing their hearts out and shake their fabulous, enormous breasts on the Speakeasy stage.

 Roxy Roulette: another Lady of Voluptuous Entertainment for whom joining the group has been invigorating and sexually empowering (though she hasn’t yet fulfilled her bi-curious fantasies).  Along with Scarlette, Roxy belts out a great bawdy song, reminding us that burlesque can take the form of song as well as dance.

 Annika Rose:  new to the burlesque and plus size scene, Annika purrs and looks just like a big sweet pussy in her kitty ears and tail.

 Matthew Rose: BHM (Big Handsome Male), banker by day and rambunctious burlesque dancer by night, Matthew finds beauty in women of all shapes and sizes—it doesn’t hurt that his routine involves tearing the clothes off of eight BBW women.

 Caller 1: Mike, 24, from Vermont asks about foreskin restoration, but Dr. Suzy finds that the core issue lies in the strict Christian upbringing that shames him too much for him to even ask his parents about the circumstances of his circumcision.

 Weapons of Mass Discussion

the art of seduction, being an object of fetishistic desire, the art of escorting, The Girlfriend Experience, prostitution, pick-up artistry, religious abuse, foreskin restoration, circumcision, big beautiful women, big handsome men, variations of female beauty, mass media interpretation of beauty, BBW conventions, and infidelity, escort consultation, peek shows, interspecies experience, kissing bonobos, sex workers, circumcision, foreskin, cappucino

 Performance Erotica

burlesque dancing, singing while topless, licking salt off of arms and nipples,  Agwa shots, grinding on the floor, refusal to do back flips for fear of getting hit in the face with one’s own giant boobs, panty flashing

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 01:50:46 Date: February 10, 2018

by Dr. Susan Block.

On the verge of V-Day in the #MeToo 2018 Trump era of heightened fears, embarassing exposés, difficult transitions, and rapidly accelerating alienation, I gather together in my Womb Room a sapiosexually stimulating assortment of colorful kinksters and clowns, sexperts and sexpots, fabulous FemDoms, adorable subbies, sultry switches, a sweet science administrator and a funny radio personality.

Pre-VDay Show Selfie with Ian O’Brien, Mistress Mina, Jake Dill, Mia Amore, Candy Cadaver, Phoenix Dawn, Queerella Fistalot, Mistress Bella Bathory, Siouxsie Q. James, Michael Vegas.

I feel like God and the Goddess have given me a shiny red and pink box of human Valentine candies. Throughout this flavorful show, I savor taking a taste of each one. Yum!

Valentines, Clowns, Couples, Trouples and Quadruples in the #MeToo Trumpocalypse. Photo: Jux Lii

V-Day for Couples

I’ve said it before and I’m saying it again: Valentine’s Day is fake news concocted by the early Catholic Church, enhanced by Hallmark and abetted by Amazon, effectively sanitizing and commercializing the original primal holiday of the heart. I prefer the earlier V-Day, Lupercalia, which we will celebrate with lust and floggers this coming Saturday in Bonoboville.

However, being a love junkie, I just can’t ignore Valentine’s Day itself. So, Capt’n Max and I are attempting to make vague plans for the Big Day which falls, rather inconveniently, on a Wednesday this year, and I’m already feeling the ridiculous-but-very-real pressure to make it unforgettably romantic without spending Bonoboville’s rent money.  How do other couples, trouples, quadruples and singles handle the stress and pleasure of the High Holiday of Love?

In search of answers, stimulation and entertainment, we chat and play with this congregation of guests squeezed joyously into our little Church of Bonoboville.

To my right is a sweet couple celebrating their first Valentine’s Day together. Nothing out of the ordinary here, except that Mistress Mina is a pro-Domme and her Valentine, ALT 98.7 FM talk show host/comedian Jake Dill adores her, but isn’t very kinky (so he says).

Jake and Mina don’t have firm plans for V-Day itself. Though without a doubt, Jake’s goal is to “please” his Valentine. If he has a fetish, he says, it’s pleasing the woman he loves.

“So you’re a cuckold,” concludes one of my other guests, which Jake strongly denies.

But then how does he feel about his Valentine dominating her mostly male clients—often in an erotic way? “That’s her profession,” he explains dividing work and play in a way that some of my other guests might disagree with, but on the verge of their first V-Day, whatever makes them happy together is the “right” answer.

Post-Waterboarding Confession. Photo: Gaby De Leon

They do a sweet Bonoboville Communion and Waterboarding, Bonobo-Style together, so their Valentines Week is off to a great, sexy start.

The Bella Clown Posse

To my left is the majestic Mistress Bella Bathory, slinky in pink (her signature color), and her “posse” of Valentine lovers, clowns and associates.

Bella Clown Posse Valentine Trouple. Photo: Jux Lii

Ms. Bathory’s namesake honors Countess Elizabeth Báthory, a sadistic Transylvanian noblewoman who is said to have bathed in the blood of young maidens she enticed into her castle. Pretty sinister for a loving feminist like Bella, but when Cami Rosebud asks about her namesake upon her arrival, Ms. Bathory teases provocatively (off-camera), “I aspire to that level of narcissism and blood-lust daily.” Is she clowning or sincere? Probably a combination.

Identity being important with such a progressive group, I must say, identifying the Bella Clown Posse’s romantic artistic relationships is in and of itself a sapiosexually stimulating challenge. My advance apologies, if I have to issue corrections. 

Introducing Siouxsie Q James & the Bella Clown Posse. Photo: Slick Rick

If my currently-slightly-hungover memory isn’t failing me, Bella’s primary Valentine (at least for this show) is the adorable and astonishingly smart actress, writer and Adult Performer Advocacy Committee (APAC) representative Siouxsie Q James, decked out in retro polka dots like a living Betty Boop for her third appearance on DrSuzy.Tv (for the others, see No Prop 60 and Max’s Bday 2016).

Siouxsie’s Valentine (besides Bella) is Michael Vegas, in clown-face and suspenders, who has been a guest on a number of Dr. Susan Block Shows (with various Valentines) from 2010 to 2014, this being his first appearance in over four years!

Then there’s Bella’s “life partner,” another kind of Valentine, Queerella Fistalot.

Presenting Fabulous Phlebotomist Queerella Fistalot live from Bonoboville on DrSuzy-Tv! Photo: Hugo

Topless and in a tiny black g-string, big black and white hair, boots and a cut-out waist-cincher Queerella is striking eye candy.

Moving back around to my right, straddling her own Sybian through most of the show, is a clown-faced cutie whose name is actually Candy (last name: Cadaver); she’s part of the Bella Posse, but her Valentine seems to be that Sybian.

Opening the show with Candy Cadaver riding her Sybian and Ian O’Brien shyly clasping his knee. Photo: Slick Rick

Also over on the right is Free Speech Coalition science and regulatory affairs director Ian O’Brien. A quiet unassuming guy, here because Siouxsie “dragged” him along. Ian says he loves bonobos, so we love him.

My lovely assistants, Phoenix Dawn and Mia Amore, round out the group, and off we go into a rollicking pre-Valentine’s Day show.   The Bella Posse’s plans for V-Day include stopping at Hooters to “rip up pictures of our exes,” then going on a pilgrimage to David Bowie’s star on Hollywood Boulevard (that’s two shows in a row with trips to Hollywood stars—last Saturday’s was D.A.D. peeing on the Trumpster’s star).

Siouxsie Has Two Daddies + Olympic Valentine Communion

First up for Bonoboville Communion are Bella and Michael, both of whom Siouxsie calls “Daddy.”

Siouxsie Has Two Daddies. Photo: Jux Lii

Having been raised Catholic in Chicago (thanks to fellow Chicago kinkster, Ken Melvoin-Berg, for recommending Bella to us!), Mistress Bella agrees to be a Bonoboville Communion Altar Girl. Even though it’s her First Communion, Mistress Bella directs the proceedings in her charmingly bossy way.

Lubing Up Countess Bathory’s Pink Latex. Photo: Gaby De Leon

First Siouxsie and I (the two Susies—though neither of us spell it that way) lube up her latex. Mmm…. sensuous!

Michael leans into her thigh for a lick, then arches his head under her skirt (with a quick but exciting commando flash).

Bella requests that I pour the Agwa de Boliva Coca Leaf Liqueur down her latex dress from her boobs to Michael’s mouth.

It’s like a Winter Olympic event, except it wouldn’t win any medals as it ends in more of a splatter than a swallow. Oh well, we just need to practice before we can go for the gold.

Waterboarding, Snowboard Olympics-Style. Photo: Jux Lii

Speaking of the Olympics in Pyeongchang, the best Valentine love story this year is that of the two teams from North and South Korea coming together, under one flag, into the Opening Ceremonies, held less than 50 miles from the heavily armed border of the two countries. Hey, hey, it’s the Bonobo Way.

Korean Valentine: The North & South march together into the 2018 Winter Olympics with Bonoboesque Hopes for Peace. Meanwhile Pence “takes a knee” for the U.S. War Machine.

Representing the USA to most decent Americans’ abject embarrassment, U.S. Vice President Mike Pence refused to stand when most of the stadium rose in a standing ovation for the peace that the two teams marching in together represented. Though Pence has chimed in with tRUMP to criticize NFL players “taking a knee” against police brutality at football games, he essentially took a knee against peace at the Pyeongchang Winter Olympics. If there was ever any doubt that U.S. interests are in fomenting discord and marketing war, now it’s as plain as the snowflake-white hair on Pence’s head.

Pence castigated North Korea for their military parades. But he’s 100% behind his boss’ call for a military parade on American soil. Speaking of that ridiculous, expensive, fascistic and unseemly call for a Banana Republic-style military parade, our tRUMP doll gets spanked with a tank on this show! Actually, it’s a toy military truck, but “spanked with a tank” sounds better. It’s the Bonobo Way.

Spanked with a Tank! Photo: Gaby de Leon

We also gag him with a toy machine gun. It’s 2018, and the Resistance is getting worked up.

Go Siouxsie Go! Tank-Spank tRUMP’s Rump! Photo: Gaby de Leon

It’s also 20-Gay-Teen! Three cheers and a bonobo beer to #TeamUSGay Olympians, Adam Rippon and Gus Kenworthy, the first openly gay Olympians to come out before competing, and who have refused to meet with Pence because of his anti-LGBTQ history and even posted pix of themselves with the caption “Eat your heart out, Pence.”

Openly Gay & Fabulous Olympian Adam Rippon owns the ice in Pyeongchang

And I have to say, watching the utterly hypnotic Adam Rippon skate (as well as Mirai Nagasu’s herstory-making triple axel) is making me late with this blog today!

Mark Brown about to  own the ice in Long Beach.

Speaking of hot openly gay male ice skaters, shout-out to my fabulous hairdresser Mark Brown, who beautified my hair just before this show and may not be an Adam Rippon-level Olympian, but happens to be a fine figure skater. Forget the dance floor, boys, get out on the rink and spin your stuff! Adam Rippon for President! Mirai Nagasu can be veep, or she can triple-axel her way into the top spot. Either way, they have my vote.

From Bella to Queerella

After her Slalom Communion, Bella would like to take a more “traditional” Bonoboville Communion from her “life” Valentine, the foxy Ms. Fistalot. Already topless, Queerella’s pert, pierced tatas serve as the perfect Communion Altar. Brought up in a very strict Christian household, Queerella almost looks like she’s going to levitate in her role as Altar Girl.

Mia Amore wants to take Communion too, and fortunately, Queerella has two boobs, so both Bella and Mia take a simultaneous Double Communion. Ooh la la!

Taking her first Waterboarding, Bonobo-Style like a good P.O.W., Mia is initiated into the great mysteries of the Church of Bonoboville.

Naturally, Bella orchestrates her own Waterboarding, requesting that Queerella be Agwa-waterboarded and then snowball the shot into Bella’s mouth with a kiss.

This we manage a little more gracefully than the earlier waterslide, though I think they get more Agwa down their chins than their throats. Either way, it’s super sexy, and a loving Valentine twist on Bonoboville Communion.

Queerella’s Valentine heart-shaped ass (pre-spanking) reveals the hidden Lupercalian history of the holiday. Photo: Jux Lii

Later, Queerella offers up her beautiful Valentine heart-shaped ass for a Lupercalian whacking.

Mistress Mina starts to spank Queerella’s Valentine heart-shaped bottom with her spiky spanking gloves, as Jake watches (without getting aroused). Photo: Slick Rick

She even brought her special spiked spanking gloves and a leather slapper for the occasion.

“I’m a sadomasochist,” she purrs seductively. “I love pain.”

She proceeds to prove this by letting Mistress Mina put on those nasty spiky gloves and spank her heart-shaped ass until it bleeds the cardinal red color of Valentine’s Day. Normally, we don’t go for blood play on DrSuzy-Tv, but when it happens, it happens, and it’s especially okay when the “victim” is smiling joyously, and is a trained phlebotomist who understands the importance of safety first.

Interestingly, Jake attests that he is not the least bit aroused watching his hot girlfriend play with another sexy lady. Hmmm.  Maybe it’s too close to cuckolding. Whatever it is, the rest of us are certainly turned on. Thanks Jake, Mistress Mina and the luminous, Valentine-bottomed Ms. Fistalot.

Fisting Brianna

Mistress Bella loves to fist people. So does Mistress Mina. The word is even part of Queerella Fistalot’s name. Enough talk, how about some action? Can we have a fisting demo?

Well, yes, but the fistee is a beautiful blow-up doll named Brianna. It’s understandable that none of my human guests are ready to jump up and get fisted (though it’s been done a few times before on DrSuzy.Tv by Cumisha Amado and Carol Queen). That tends to require a certain level of preparation in humans. Dolls are another story; one reason we love them!

Siouxsie demonstrates the Fine Art of Fisting on Brianna. Photo:: Hugo

The fister and instructor for this demo is Siouxsie Q. James who, with the help of a little “Bacon Lube” from Astroglide (love that bacon!), gives Brianna a good fisting. Phoenix tries to stick her hand in Brianna’s twat at the same time, but apparently Brianna can’t take a double fisting, even with Bacon Lube. Send her back to the lab!

#MeTooWhatNext: Decriminalize and Destigmatize Sex Work

Just before we bid adieu to our live broadcast audience, we talk about #MeToo, and its relevance in the world of porn and other forms of sex work.

#MeTooWhatNext? Follow the Bonobo Way of Female Empowerment, Male Well-Being & Peace through Pleasure (with a little bit of pain). Photo: Gaby de Leon

We also talk about one of my pet points: the importance of decriminalizing and destigmatizing sex work in the next phases of #MeToo. If extracurricular sexual energy can’t be expressed in the work place, it should be channeled into something safe, sane and consensual… like sex work.

Post-Show Fun, Valentine Orgasms and the Bonobo Way

After the show, we clown around with the clowns.

PHOTOS: ABE BONOBO

When Queerella removes her hair, she looks like a totally different person, still sexy though, especially in her adorable “FIST TRUMP” bootie shorts and her “Make America Gape Again” tee.

Awesome Poi Boy Michael Vegas wows the crowd. Photo: Gaby de Leon

Michael Vegas wows the bar with a dazzling, neon-glowing Poi show that brings a little bit of Burning Man into Bonoboville.

Mia and I both try our hands at poi play which doesn’t require Michael’s level of skill to create cool effects.

Whee! I’m in Poi-Land! Photo: Hugo

All this Valentine eye candy is very exciting—and not bad for your health, like real candy—providing the Captain and I with just the right visual stimulates package to get our Valentine’s Week off to an orgasmic start.

Go Bonobos for Valentine’s Day! Celebrate World Bonobo Day with The Bonobo Project and gain Valentine inspiration to “release your inner bonobo” from the Love Apes of the rainforest, where every day is Valentine’s Day. The Bonobo Way: The Evolution of Peace through Pleasure is the ultimate antidote to the fear and hatred that is driving us apart. Give it to someone you love, even if that someone is you.  A portion of all proceeds go to help save the highly endangered real bonobos in the wild. 

Go Lupey for Lupercalia! Photo: Jux Lii

Next Saturday, we’ll go lupey for Lupercalia with Mistress Porcelain, Mistress Jennifer, Elena Rayn, Rhiannon Aarons, Chef BeLive, Daniele Watts and more!

Thanks to Our Volunteers: Hair by- Mark Brown; Videographers- David Polcino; Photographers –  Hugo, Slick Rick, Jux Lii, Gaby Deleon Photography;  On-Campus Bonobos – Abe Perez, Camille Rosebud, Mita Altair, Harry Sapien, Gideon Grayson, MarsFX, Clemmy Cockatoo, Ana & Miguel.

Valentine Kinksters at the Speakeasy Bar. Photo: Gaby de Leon

© Feb. 11, ,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.

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 01:51:50 Date: January 20, 2018

by Dr. Susan Block

It’s the one-year anniversary of tRUMP’s inauguration, and the government is shut down… but the people are open. Women of America are on the march.

Happy Anti-Trumpiversary in Bonoboville: Daniele Watts, Chef Be*Live, Elena RAyn, Dr. Suzy, Sunny War, Zach Rose. Bottom Row: Ikkor, tRUMP, Phoenix Dawn. Photo: Rick Slick

The Women’s March 2018 gathered the most women in history ever to reject one man.

And that man is you Donny Boy. Does that excite you? All those pretty pussies defying your desire to grab them? All those “nasty women” waving homemade signs and shrieking “Impeach Trump,” “Stop Cheeto Voldemort,” “Does this Ass Make My Country Look Small?” “Don’t Touch My Rights!” “Viva la Vulva!” “I’d Call You a ‘Cunt’ but You Don’t Have the Warmth or the Depth” and “You’re So Vain, You Probably Think This March is About You,” as you sit in the White House, trash-tweeting and junk-eating, surrounded by nasty women, a prisoner of your own success.

Spanking the bound and gagged Trumpus Therapy Doll with the Forbes Magazine featuring Junior, Ivanka & Daddy. Photo: Jux Lii

Does that make you want to pull down your big-boy pants, bend over and get your YUUUGE pimply white ass spanked with a Forbes Magazine, its glossy 2006 cover featuring you, a beady-eyed Junior and the delectably Aryan First Daughter?

The Forbes issue that Stormy used to spank the Trumpus.

Of course, it does. And that’s exactly the Trump Slump therapy we give ourselves on this show, featuring comic, erotic, spanking-hot antics and musical, sapiosexual explorations with singers and swingers, Presidents and porn stars, Buddhists and nudists and more.

Sunny War Soul

Several staff members and guests arrive in Bonoboville right after the Los Angeles Women’s March 2018, flushed with the exhilaration of female fellowship, along with male support (“Men of Quality Support Equality”) generated at these gatherings.

Pre-Show Featured Guest Selfie

First up on my broadcast bed is Nashville-born, blues/folk/jazz/punk singer Sunny War, “discovered” by my lovely talent-scouting porn-star assistant, Phoenix Dawn while the former was strumming her guitar on Venice Beach.

Her first song is “No Home No Safety Nets.”  With an exquisite, emotional, soulful voice, Sunny War sings about the “wars within,” between her two souls (one reason her voice is so soulful), as well as the relationships that weave through her somewhat polyamorous life, her battles with “addiction,” homelessness and other demons.

Sonny War plays the Womb Room in Bonoboville. Photo: Jux Lii

Like we’re in Church, Mosque, Temple or a really cozy, old-fashioned coffeehouse, we feel blessed to be together in the Womb Room warmed up from the cold by the heart-melting sound of Sunny War.

Elena Communion

Next up on the bed is scintillating singer/kinkster Elena Rayn. Just in LA for three months, Elena has been an “exhibitionist” since she was a creative kid growing up in Pittsburgh, Pennsylvania.

PHOTOS 1 & 3: JUX LII.  PHOTO 2: SLICK RICK

Of course, Elena’s not some raincoat-opening, Louis CK-style flasher. No, this exhibitionist’s got talent, moxie and leaves her voyeurs wanting more.

Elena sings “Hallelujah!” upon her first Bonoboville Communion as Altar Girl. Photo: Slick Rick

We met Elena a couple of weeks ago at our Dominatrixes Against Donald Trump 2018 kick-off broadcast, though she stayed low-profile in the audience. On this show, she shines in her tights of many holes, red lace and luscious fake fur. She’s also fresh from the Women’s March where she was “inspired” by the bonoboesque solidarity and general good vibrations of the crowd.

Now she seems to be inspired by Bonoboville Communion. That is, Elena (raised Presbyterian) doffs the faux mink to reveal her real natural boobs, serving as Altar Girl for Phoenix who can’t resist biting her impressively hard nipples. Oh my Elena!

Phoenix gets Waterboarded, Bonobo-Style, between Elena’s Hole-y Legs. Photo: Slick Rick

Then Phoenix takes her Waterboarding with Agwa de Bolivia Herbal Coca Leaf Liqueur like a good Bonoboville P.O.W. between Elena’s Hole-y Legs. Turnabout is fair play, and Phoenix returns the Communion favor providing her lovely Altar for our guest, as the Womb Room watches, transfixed by feminine beauty.  

Nikki Haley Spanks Trump with Forbes

Into our lovely little post-Women’s March gathering lurches the Trumpster, not-so-fresh off the golf course in his big-man-sized polo shirt, small-man-sized undies, long red tie, orange tan and unruly hair, swinging a five-iron like a weapon, tweeting on his cell and talking trash about “fake news.”

Beating tRUMP with the 2006 Forbes (featuring him, Junior & Ivanka) that he asked Stormy to spank him with, as Nikki Haley/Elena Rayn observes. Photo: Jux Lii

This Trump (impersonated by actor John Walker Davis) is a little ornery and attempts to use the show as a platform for his nonsense. However, upon threat of eviction from the Garden of Bonoboville, he gets down on his knees and takes a spanking with that Forbes Magazine featuring the full Trump Crime Family.

This is a “True Crime Story” style reenactment of what porn star Stormy Daniels says he requested that she do to him during their affair. She also says that he gave her the greatest compliment that the old pussy-grabber can give a woman: she reminds him of his eldest daughter.

Once, Stormy and El Cheato watched three hours of “Shark Week” before sex. Trump reportedly hates sharks, but loves to watch them as a morbid aphrodisiac.

Narcissist’s Nightmare

It may not be your cup of tea, but from a sex therapist’s point of view, there’s nothing wrong with Drumpf ogling sharks as foreplay or channeling his incestuous desire for Ivanka into consensual (albeit extramarital) sex with Stormy. Let Presidents and porn stars frolic like bonobos, and let the rest of us also enjoy the pleasures in life. What is wrong is the Trumpanzee’s nepotism, narcissism, misogyny, mendacity, plutocracy, hypocrisy, corporatocracy, ecocide, racism, sexism and nonconsensual pussygrabbing.

Are Nikki Haley & Trumpty Dumpty LOVERS?

Then I let his rumored newer paramour, U.S. ambassador to the United Nations Nikki Haley dominate the Orange Menace. It’s actually Elena, but she looks a lot like Haley from certain angles. “Nikki Haley” may sound like a porn star name but she’s actually the U.S. ambassador to the United Nations.

The Trumps gets down on his hands and knees for his Forbes Spanking as Elena roleplays Nikki Haley. Photo: Slick Rick

What do Stormy and Nikki have in common? Both have expressed distaste for Trump the Man (Stormy) and the President (Haley), but both are opportunistic enough to hold their noses and have some sort of sexual encounter with sex-needy Trumpty Dumpty for a fee, not quid pro quo, but considerable material recompense nonetheless. Stormy got $130K and a splashy start to her Make America Horny Again tour. Nikki got the UN ambassadorship.

America just got screwed.

Firefly Rock Star/Stripper

Now it’s Elena Rayn’s turn to sing and oh my goddess, does she sing like a rock star and dance like a stripper.

Elena Rayn sings “Firefly” on DrSuzy.Tv. Photo: Jux Lii

Her “Firefly” is the “food of love” and quite an aphrodisiac. Plus I keep imagining her as Nikki Haley sneaking into the White House “back door” to watch “Shark Week” with the Trumpus. The whole Womb Room gets into Elena’s groove, our hands dancing as she prances and romances Phoenix Dawn. Sexy mamacitas!

Elena really warms up my Womb Room. Photo: Slick Rick

Also on the Womb Room stage is fledgling trans (F2M) comedian Zach Rose (*discovered* by Clemmy at Dromebox), Ikkor the Wolf and Capt’n Max plus our old friend Chef Be*Live, 2017 SUZY award winner for “Sexiest Shipwrecked Sailor” (thankfully, his hand is healing). Be*Live’s wife, acclaimed actress Danièle Watts, 2017 SUZY award winner for “Hottest Confession,” is currently asleep in the car. But she wakes up bright-eyed and most definitely bushy-tailed and kind of steals the second half of the show.

SUZY Award-Winning Actress Daniele Watts performs Trump Toilet Paper Yoga. Photo: Abe Bonobo

Big Banana, Comedy, Encores & More

We come back with a big banana, a gift from Jacob the Chimesman. This banana seems like a sex toy to me—it’s great for straddling and it’s even got a giant moustache for a moustache ride—but its marketed to “kids of all ages.”

Then up crawls the amazing Danièle Watts, in a banana-colored tank and sweat pants that don’t stay on long. We hadn’t seen her or Be*Live since Adultcon. They have been living in and out of the woods and off the grid, meeting with shamans of various sorts, getting in touch with their deeper bonoboesque powers in yoga, music and nakedness. As always, they bring an incomparable warmth, pansensuality and expansive creativity into the Womb Room.

Daniele Watts & Zach Rose on DrSuzy.Tv. Photo: Jux Lii

Between the time Danièle’s shirt and pants come off, Zach does some stand-up while sitting down, joking “as therapy” about his “drug addict” mom as well as curious reactions to his female-to-male transition. Then, with endearing nervousness, Zach takes Communion from Danièle’s gorgeous gazangas.

PHOTO 1 & 3: JUX LII.  PHOTOS 2 & 4: SLICK RICK

Then Sunny War takes us back into her world of bluesy beauty, singing a catchy tune she calls “Static,” picking up the theme of “addiction,” moving past it into sobriety and then into the delicate emotional balancing act of enjoying the pleasures of life in moderation.

Sunny War Encore. Photo:: Slick Rick

We have just enough time for one more encore—Elena Rayn singing “Devil in the Dark.”

Elena Unchained. Photo: Slick Rick

This time she’s primed for a climactic performance with her top still off and now her pants and panties pulled down, exposing her beautiful powerful vulva as she sings her ever-loving, exhibitionistic heart out.

In an Elena-intoxicated trance, we all get up and dance, undulating around her as if she is a high priestess leading a sex ritual, an anti-Trumpiversary, Post-Women’s March musical orgy.

Elena Rayn singing in tongues. Photo: Jux Lii

As Elena ends the song, we all shake with the climax of our ecstatic togetherness, but there’s not a minute for cuddling or even promoting.

Amazing Exhibitionist/Singer/Star Elena Rayn. Photo: Slick Rick

As we race against time and a finite amount of film, I summon tRUMP out of the shadows where he’s been playing with his golf club, for one final Forbes-spanking.

tRUMP watches Bonoboville instead of Shark Week as part of his therapy. Photo: Slick Rick

Suddenly, a stark naked Daniele attacks the President like a shark, crying “Daddy, I love you!” It’s quite a domestic drama, with political overtones.

Naked Daniele tackles “Daddy” Drumpf in the final moments of the Big Game. Photo: Jux Lii

Later, our Trump impersonator, while sipping his Diet Coke, opines that “this show is like going to the Women’s March, but you can grab pussy.”

Well, some pussy. We call it the Erotic Resistance, aka the Bonobo Way. And yes, we want to “Impeach Trump,” especially today, on his pitiful Trumpiversary when the whole government is broken and shut. Trump is the main character in this comic-tragedy, but there’s also Pence, Ryan, McConnell… the whole rotten Repugnican lot of them need to be removed and replaced. There’s also us. Trump is a virus that has arisen from the greedy, cheating, willfully ignorant part of us; we the people of capitalist dreaming America.

We must resist the Trump within us, as well as the Trump in the White House.

Resistance is a challenge, but it’s also a turn-on, in the sense that it’s “friction,” which is the essence of hot sex, according to the late great Screw Magazine publisher Al Goldstein.

We must #RESIST the tRUMP Within Us as well as the one in the White House. Photo: Slick Rick

After the show, we find out that we are still being prevented from broadcasting on Facebook Live. Again, we’re not sure why though it almost certainly has something to do with the sex, even though we are careful not to show any on the Facebook feed. Or maybe the politics? As always, the faceless Facebook censors keep thwarting our attempts at connection without telling us anything but “try again later.” It’s just another insidious aspect of the corporate social media machine that is gradually exerting complete control over more and more of human life, engaging, rejecting, re-engaging and controlling you. Escape the Machine! Come to Bonoboville… Be free! At least until they take away our Net Neutrality.

Jacob comes in from the cold, saying he thought he was too tired to come join us, but when Facebook censored our live feed, he felt “lonely,” so he threw something on, came over and jammed with Sunny. You could say that Facebook censorship just created a face-to-face encounter that wouldn’t have happened otherwise, but that still doesn’t excuse censorship.

Jacob jams with Sunny and the Big Banana at Dr. Suzy’s Speakeasy after-hours in Bonoboville. Photo: Author

As the after-party unfolds, Sunny War sings for peace and strums her guitar, as we carry on, cavort, dance and talk about #MeToo and the Bonobo Way, especially Daniele’s erotic, empowering, though somewhat confusing experiences with Hollywood “predators,” players and pussygrabbers. Then we cavort some more and philosophize about our human past and perhaps our future as bonobo sapien hunter-gatherers without murder, without war, without machines (or at least, with minimal machines). It’s a kind of science fiction, but more sustainable than colonizing Mars. 

Erotic Anti-Trumpiversary Unchained. Photo: Slick Rick

All that philosophy, sensuality, musicality and resistance makes me horny, so off I go with the Captain of My Ship to consummate this auspicious and delicious post-Women’s March anti-Trumpiversary with orgasmic prime-mate love.

Pre-Orgasmic Prime Mate Love. Photo: Selfie

Thanks to Our Volunteers: Videographers- MarsFX, Gideon Grayson ; Photographers – Jux Lii, Slick Rick;  On-Campus Bonobos – Abe Perez, Camille Rosebud, Mita Altair, Harry Sapien, Gideon Grayson, MarsFX, Clemmy Cockatoo, Ana & Miguel. 

© January 20,2018. 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.

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?

Tom Quinn, Playboy’s Miss February 2011 Kiley Johnson, Phil Varone, Dr. Suzy, Tara Lynn Foxx, Kim Kandy, Jackie, DrSuzy.tv Show Producer Tasia Sutor. Photo: Irwin

Length: 102:55 minutes        Date: 09/22/2012

See the free pix here.  X pix and Video at DrSuzy.tv

It’s the autumnal equinox, and as the sun rises later and night falls sooner, humans find comfort in sex, toys and rock n roll, and so it has been since prehistory.  Sex, of course, has been around a lot longer than humans, going all the way back to the cellular level of life.  Sex toys—using inanimate objects for sexual pleasure—are also older than humanity. Chimps and monkeys rub their genitalia against tree branches.  Years ago, I saw Lana, a female bonobo in the San Diego Zoo, bouncing a rubber ball vigorously against her big pink swollen vulva.  It was obvious she wasn’t just practicing her dribble; she was using the rubber ball as a masturbatory sex toy.

Rock n Roll also has prehistoric—even, perhaps, prehuman—antecedents.  Chimps and bonobos bang on hollow tree logs to make a kind of “music.”  Kanzi—probably the world’s most famous “genius” bonobo thanks to his work with the brilliant Dr. Sue Savage-Rumbaugh—has jammed quite harmoniously on the keyboards with Peter Gabriel.

Charles Darwin hypothesized that music’s evolutionary purpose was for human sexual selection or, as Geoffrey Miller stated, the role of musical display was—and still is—for “demonstrating fitness to mate.”  This is why rock stars often have even more active sex lives than porn stars.  And this is why this show is so much fun!

Featured Guests:

Phil Varone: Some people have called him a “sex addict” (at least he played one on Celebrity Rehab), but to me, he’s more like the human epitome of “Sex Toys and Rock n Roll”—which just so happens to be the name of his new California Exotics sex toy line. Wild-armed drummer for such popular bands of the 1990s as Saigon Kick and Skid Row, Phil is also a stand-up comic with a celebrity sex tape that turned him into a porn star and a talk radio host with a new Playboy radio show, where I will soon be his guest.  To explain the intensely intoxicating, erotic effects of rocketing to rock n roll fame, Phil reveals he wasn’t one of the “popular kids” in high school.  So when he attended his high school reunion with a few hit records to his credit and found himself having sex with the homecoming queen and other previously unattainable hotties, his “career path” as one of modern rock n roll’s most sexually active musicians was set.  It doesn’t hurt that he is the proud possessor of a massive penis, which looks even larger on his rocker-skinny frame, and is the model for his “biggest” sex toy: the Dr. PhilGood Dong.  Now a swinger, not a cheater, Phil gamely unzips and pulls out his own dong for comparison, but it isn’t until the after-party that we get to see it “in action,” and yes indeed, Brothers and Sisters, I am a witness: the original model and the toy definitely do match up.  We also have some fun with Phil’s pleasantly powerful, vibrating drumsticks or “Sex Sticks,” bringing the act of playing your lover “like an instrument” to a whole new level.  Then he breaks the big news that he and the other members of Saigon Kick have decided to bury their hate hatchets and will soon be reuniting for a concert tour.  We celebrate by dancing and stripteasing to my favorite Saigon Kick song, the one they named after me, even though we didn’t know each other at the time (and they even spelled my name right):

Suzy had a dream
Of what she could not tell
She only guarantees
It’ll take you straight to Hell…

Of course, this Suzy’s “hell” is that little corner of erotic heaven on earth we call BonoboVille, aka Dr. Suzy’s Speakeasy, aka the Block Institute, and considering the fact that as I’m writing this bloggamy, Dr. PhilGood is still hanging out here, “philling good,” I’d say he agrees.

Tara Lynn Foxx: Saying Auf wiedersehen before she flies off to Deutschland for the Venus festival and her first gangbang scene, this is the second time on the show for the newest Ms. Munkey Barz.  After stripping down to her skimpy, sweet, polka dot panties in saucy rhythm to Saigon Kick’s “Suzy” song, Tara then enthusiastically shows us some of the many positional advantages to using the Munkey-Barz, using one happy Phil as her partner (where they notice they have matching star tattoos!).  Tara also gets to experience the strong, “secret,” almost soundless vibrations of another one of Phil’s other toys, the “Little Black Heart” G-string bullet, and rides the Sybian into a rip-roaring, rock n roll climax, as I ratchet up the speed and manipulate her handy Munkey-Barz from behind.

Kylie Johnson: A virgin to The Dr. Susan Block Show, this sweet, 21-year-old, multi-cultural beauty with amazing all-natural measurements, was Playboy’s Miss February 2011 and is about to (more…)

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?

by Dr. Susan Block

Once again, with feeling, we brought the Bonobo Way of peace through pleasure to a new excited and exciting audience, this time the great teachers, healers and “sex geeks” of AASECT, the venerable American Association of Sex Educators, Counselors and Therapists, for their 48th annual conference in San Juan, Puerto Rico. With my birthday falling on the day before my presentation, Capt’n Max and I invited a couple of our Puerto Rican friends whom we met on our last trip to come join us in aquatic revelry at the Condado Plaza Hilton’s water wonderland by the balmy Caribbean sea.

‘Twas a marvelous, magical, multi-orgasmic, wet, wild and very bonoboësque birthday weekend, high as the waxing Gemini moon. It was only brought low on Sunday morning when we woke up to the news of the horror in Orlando which just broke our hearts, though paradoxically, it served to underscore the life-saving value of sex education, counseling and therapy. Of course, it’s much more complex than that, but I can’t help thinking that if only the seemingly sexually confused, self-loathing perpetrator of this awful obscenity, the worst mass-shooting by a single civilian in American history, could have gotten a good sex education; the horror may very well not have happened.

This is the important, challenging, exhilarating and dangerous work that my AASECT colleagues are doing every day, hour by 50-minute hour, each a bonoboësque revolutionary in their own unique way, and I am proud to be one of them, in my own unique way.

From Bonoboville to Margaritaville

Opening up the current Cosmo at the Hudson Newsstand at LAX and finding myself quoted on page 130, on how to “Ace Your Orals” was pretty cool, in a Cosmo Girl way (though they chopped our 20-minute interview down to one short sentence, it was a prominent short sentence). I even ponied up and bought a copy when the cashier looked at me funny for combing through pages 1-129 until I found my name.

We flew Jet Blue, the chic, sleek, socially conscious airline of the hip and thrifty, stretching our legs (well, my legs; the long-limbed Captain was still cramped), watching bits of hyper TV shows and going over my AASECT Bonobo Way talking points while cuddling and munching scrumptious Gladstone’s ceviche and chips the color of the Puerto Rican state seal.

Too excited (and busy) to snooze, we confronted the fact that Jet Blue doesn’t eliminate jet lag as soon as we hit our king-sized Hilton bed, and we slept like the ancient rocks below our 9th floor balcony. Speaking of which, oh what a spectacular view of the sparkling azure Caribbean sea!

Since the room phone didn’t work (one of many malfunctions we encountered during our stay at the otherwise great and sprawling, 1960s-style Condado Plaza Hilton), we slumbered soundly through the first part of the Opening Plenary.

This photo of us arriving at the AASECT 2016 Opening Plenary was snapped by Great AASECT Sage, Clinical Psychologist & “Elephant in the Hot Tub” blogger, Dr. Russell Stambaugh

Fortunately, we made it to the tail end, as well as the opening cocktail party and poster sessions where we met some very nice folks, a few of whom we captured in these badly lit photos.

PHOTOS 1, 4 & 5: MAX.  PHOTO 8: DENNIS JAMES

What we lacked in photographic equipment, we made up for in bonoboësque bonhomie. We were impressed by the variety of ages, skin tones and backgrounds of the attendees, reflective of this year’s AASECT conference theme of inclusivity, everyone different as snowflakes, yet melting into our common desire for sexual knowledge, erotic freedom and a good time.

With Cute CalExotics Couple, Joann & Chuck Bird. #GoBonobos! Go AASECT! Sex Toys Rock.

In a way, this and any AASECT conference is what I call a human Bonoboville, a group where bonoboësque humans (aka “bonobo sapiens”) are relatively free to explore aspects of sexuality within a community. Relatively free, right? After all, this romantic tropical adventure included the constant spraying on of Off—to repulse the dreaded Zika Virus… and every other living organism. Still, our subject was sex, and we were free to, at least, talk about it.

All that hot talk and sapiosexual inclusivity turned us on, or maybe it was the misty Caribbean breeze gently wreaking havoc with my hair. It also could have been all that cuddly foreplay on the plane; yes, the lavatories are just too small and well-policed nowadays for us to join the Mile High Club, like we used to on long flights. Those were the days before 9/11 turned passenger planes into jam-packed tanks of suspicion and scrutiny with wings. Then again, maybe it was just that I stripped down to begin my birthday in my birthday suit. Or that special San Juan “Sex Fantasy” we’d downed at the bar. Whatever the cause, the Captain and I entered the hour of my earthly emergence with a bang and a couple of those surprisingly intense screaming orgasms that might have awakened the neighbors, which may not have been strictly consensual in the auditory sense, but hopefully they were with AASECT and would understand.

Post-orgasm, we fell back to sleeping the sleep of the rocks and then, just like those rocks, we were soon drenched in seawater. That is, within a few hours, that lovely misty Caribbean breeze wafting through our open balcony door blew in a couple of quarts of brine that had the Captain sailing across the floor when he got up to go pee. To the Hilton’s credit, there was a sign on the balcony door that said we should keep it closed to prevent just such flooding, but experience is the best swimming instructor. We kept the balcony door shut and slept until morning.

Birth Day Holy Waters

I wanted to stay in my birthday suit throughout my birthday, but unfortunately for the #FreeTheNipple campaign, Puerto Rico is mostly managed by a devout Roman Catholic establishment that is quite strict about keeping all naughty bits covered at all times, even while underwater.

Ready to Party like a Bonobo–Hat to Toes! Kudos to shopping expert Dayton Rains for finding both the bikini and flipflops.

Fortunately, the day before we left Bonoboville, Dayton Rains (popular Institute therapist, DrSuzy.Tv associate producer and resident pornstar) found me the ultimate tropical-style itsy-bitsy teeny-weeny bikini festooned with pink flamingos and trimmed in the same azure blue of the Condado Hilton pools.

And oh those pools. There was the salt water pool for the serious eco-swimmers next to a big bubbling Jacuzzi across from an entrance to Condado Lagoon, a semi-public beach where you could dip into the warm (and visibly polluted) Caribbean, on the other side of which was the super-fun freshwater pool that stretched around a café, and included its own semi-sub-aquatic bar, as well as numerous fountains and a water slide.

The fountains were shaped like dolphins, which appear to be spitting or, I prefer to say, squirting into the pool. When straddled, these forceful founts resembled nothing so much as great geysers of female ejaculation, called “amrita” by the Tantrics. In Bonoboville, we call it the hot “Holy Water” of female orgasm.

When my G-spot is stimulated just right, I can squirt (as many women can), but nothing like these huge arcs of crystal clear H20 that even out-distanced those record-shattering human Geysers of Desire, Deauxma and Annie Body. Straddling the dolphin was in no way equivalent to ejaculating myself, of course, but after a very good mojito, it did make me feel like a great squirting mermaid or water goddess of some sort. Later, I joined the Captain for a bite of his burger and fries. Something for everyone at the Condado Hilton Waterworld!

Caribbean Sea Goddesses Bless This Bday

Then in the dripping wet blink of an eye, the porpoises became goddesses and blessed my day of days. That’s my fantasy interpretation of what happened next, though the reality was simply that our Puerto Rican friends, SerenaGaia and Destiny, arrived to join our celebration.

PHOTOS 1 & 3: MAX

That’s renowned and distinguished University of Puerto Rico at Mayaguez Humanities Department Professor SerenaGaia Anderlini D’Onofrio, co-editor (with Lindsay Hagamen) of Ecosexuality: When Nature Inspires the Arts of Love (for which I wrote the forward), and convener of the first Ecosexuality Symposium at an academic Institution (UPRM), for which I gave the keynote on The Bonobo Way of Ecosexuality. 

PHOTOS BY DESTINY LEE RODRIGUEZ

After the symposium, SerenaGaia held a poetic erotic oceanic “plural wedding” in which about a dozen of us “married” the beach. That’s where I met Ms. Destiny Lee Rodriguez, ace photographer and beautiful, talented, teenage (no, she’s not underage, folks—she’s 19-years-old… going on 35) Mamacita. Ay carumba!

Destiny shoots us shooting the water guns between our legs! It’s the Bonobo Way… Photo: Max

At our invitation, Serena drove up from Mayaguez to San Juan with Destiny, as well as the sweet, sensuous and extremely busy Francesca Gentile, a fellow AASECT member and AASECT-certified sexuality teacher who was not only giving two AASECT presentations, but a number of sex-and-romance workshops and dinners in the area as well. After expressing her affection for Geminis in general, Francesca made a beeline for AASECT registration, but Serena and Destiny put on their bathing suits and joined the Captain and me on the high seas, turning our twosome into a full-on pool party. Yipppppeeeeeeee! Best Birthday Evah!

Well, one of the best… When you’ve celebrated as many as me, it’s tough to compare them all.

Watersliding into another great bonoboësque year (one hopes!). Photo: Destiny Lee Rodriguez

 So many fun moments! Hoka-hoka in the pool, riding the squirting dolphins, dancing around the faux medieval décor, drinking at the underwater bar, swimming, splashing, hugging, kissing, releasing our “inner mermaids”… My favorite part was going down the water slide, which I experienced as a tangible metaphor for being “Born Again.” Like a religious experience… but more fun!

PHOTOS 1-5 + 10:: DESTINY LEE RODRIGUEZ.  PHOTOS 6-9: MAX

The ancient rocks around the beach glittered as the sun went down behind the waving palms of Condado Lagoon and the skyscrapers of San Juan, and the waxing June Moon rose to greet the night. 

With SerenaGaia by her magical make-out rocks. Photo: Destiny Lee Rodriguez

Serena told us how years ago, she’d met a beautiful girl on that very beach and, since the two of them couldn’t afford a room at the Hilton, they stayed on the rocks, making out and heavy petting to great mutual delight all night… an early ecosexual experience for the High Priestess of Ecosexuality.

Great Dinner, Lousy Food

Starving, we showered off the sea and chlorine and hustled ourselves into dinner clothes. I tried to go “South American” with a hat the colors of those Gladstone’s chips and matching scarf (a gift from Squirting Queen Deauxma), but I wound up resembling a one-woman mariachi band… with garters instead of guitars.

We contemplated going into Old San Juan, but opted to stay in this gigantic, comfy, albeit quirky hotel. Not only was the Condado Plaza Hilton big as a brontosaurus straddling the street, there was another Hilton hotel just down the road. Clearly, we were on “Hilton Island,” or Hilton-ico. For the big birthday dinner, we chose the Hilton’s fancy “award-winning” Pikayo Restaurant. 

The company was awesome, as were the gifts, toasts, mojitos and beers. But the food? Tiny ornate servings on giant plates, featuring complicated, overcooked and uninspired cuisine. Max’s poor escargot, instead of being cooked in their shells with a little herbal buttersauce, were drowned in a heavy mushroom gravy. His pasta looked like a small elaborate turd in a large, shallow, very clean toilet bowl. My sea bass wasn’t horrible; we’ll give it a C+. Destiny’s salmon was huge as the Hilton and pretty enough to photograph, but it tasted like Chicken of the Sea with sauce.  Serena wisely ordered just a dessert soufflé that was nice and fluffy. As for my birthday “cake,” it was a doll-sized baked Alaska just big enough for each of us to take a tiny bite.

PHOTO 1: WAITER. PHOTO 2: DESTINY LEE RODRIGUEZ  PHOTOS 4 & 8: MAX

Good thing I’m not much of a foodie!

Since we didn’t eat much, we were good for a midnight swim and a dip in the hot tub with some of the other AASECT’ers. One gal came in from the beach gloriously topless and, as soon as someone told her that was verboten, she wrapped a scarf around her boobs. Within moments, Hilton security came running to cover her up with a towel, with as much concern as if there were a terrorist amongst us. When the young lady demonstrated that she was already covered, thank you very much, the obviously disgusted guard muttered in Max’s direction, “What kind of people are these?”

Maybe he thought because of his captain’s cap and distinguished demeanor, Max would sympathize. He was lucky the Captain wasn’t in the mood for telling him to take a long walk off a short gangplank.

The incident did make it clear that despite the erotic climate and congenial populace, sexist titty phobia is alive and not very well in Puerto Rico. This was disappointing and somewhat disturbing, but nothing that another mojito (and beer) plus a few more hallway-echoing birthday orgasms couldn’t make me forget… at least until now.

Memories of Puerto Rico. Photo: Max

Bonobo Inclusivity & Technical Difficulties

Birthday candles fully blown in all senses, within a few short slumber-filled hours, it was time to wake up and face Saturday, our day to deliver the Bonobo Way to our fellow sex therapists of AASECT. Having given variations on “the talk” at UPRM, UC Berkeley and DomCon, I wasn’t too worried about this one. Nevertheless, it would be a different group and theme: Inclusivity.

Actually, this theme appealed to me, partly because bonobos are the most inclusive apes on Earth. Unlike their distrustful common chimp counterparts, bonobos are so inclusive that not only do they eagerly share food and sex with friends, they do it with strangers—especially strangers!  And the pay-off is in much more than *just* pleasure. It’s peace.

Peace through Pleasure. Photo: Eddie Fernandez

The full title of the AASECT conference theme was “Inclusivity in Practice: Putting the Pieces Together,” and a vital “piece” of the human sexuality puzzle that bonobos “put together” is peace through pleasure. It’s “inclusivity in action,” erotic conflict resolution and the world’s best “make-up sex.” It’s also anger management, bonobo-style. Because bonobos get angry, like we do. They just don’t kill each other, like we do. And we thought we were the smartest apes. Ha!

I’ve been supporting sexual inclusivity since I started broadcasting in the 1980s, and Capt’n Max since the 1970s when he published reader-written sex magazines, like Love, Finger and the LA Star, the ultimate in journalistic inclusivity; printing anything and almost everything the readers wrote, well before social media made “reader-written” journalism ubiquitous. Inclusivity as a theme also drew me in because, well, it made me feel included.  I’ve been a proud (uncertified) member of AASECT since 2005, but I tend to stay out of the flaming discourse on the AASECT listserv, and this was my first conference, not to mention my first talk. I was an AASECT virgin!

After Destiny valiantly attempted to straighten my untamable tropical frizz, I donned my Boho-Bonobo tank top featuring a cartoon of my “inner bonobo” as envisioned by Disney artist Helane and printed by Gonzo Bonobo, a navy mini-skirt, navy-on-white Yale thong, stockings, garters, hat and Dayton’s navy jacket—my gesture to the “business casual” fashion custom.

All systems go, except one and, of course, it was a critical one. Though administrators had assured us that I’d be mic’ed for my talk with a lavaliere (thus we didn’t bring our own), the congenial Hilton tech team gave us the bad news that our particular room did not include a lavaliere nor any mic at all. With a quarter pound of freshly applied makeup around my eyes, I was not about to cry, but I freely allowed the steam to come out of my ears, as the Captain and I stomped helplessly around the Mezzanine looking for a lavaliere.

And whaddaya know, we found one! In fact, one found us, as we fortuitously bumped into the lovely and bonoboësque Dr. Tammy Nelson, gearing up to interview me for “Relationship TV” just before the talk. With profound empathetic insight honed over 25 years as one of AASECT’s finest, Dr. Tammy wisely observed the steam escaping my ears and, before we’d even sputtered out our story, she was generously offering to lend us a lavaliere. Sometimes the manna really falls from heaven.

Relationship TV: Make Love FIRST to Make Love LAST

Dr. Tammy’s interview was an excellent warm-up for my impending Bonobo Way presentation. In response to her engaging questions, I gave her a bite-sized version of The Talk, with an emphasis on human relationships, this being Relationship TV, and how to “release your inner bonobo,” as well as how to help your partner to release theirs, so as to keep your long-term relationship high on trust and lust. It’s important to do this in big ways—like going on romantic getaways to Puerto Rico—and small ways, like sending kinky texts and giving each other hugs and a friendly tickle whenever possible.

With Dr. Tammy Nelson on Relationship TV. Photo: Max

My bottom-line relationship tip: Make love first if you want to make love last. That is, if you want to celebrate many anniversaries with mounting joy, make your relationship a top priority in your life.  It also doesn’t hurt to take this tip literally and just “make love”… first thing in your day (doing it anytime after 12:01am counts as “day” for us night owls). I’ve been spouting this homily since before I got married 24 years ago, but old truths are infinitely renewable, and Dr. Tammy was happy to hear it, as it happens to be a variation on her new show’s theme.

She also gave me the biggest compliment of the weekend: “You are so not a diva.”

Nah… I just play one on TV.

TRAPPED in Our Own Hotel Room!

With just over an hour left before our session, we went back to the room for a quick cuddle, a nap, a makeup tune-up and a pee, not in that order. Then, video camera, mini-suitcase and extra hat in tow, we went to open the hotel room door only to find that… we couldn’t. Within moments of abject confusion, we came to terms with the shocking truth: We were locked in our own hotel room!

“Call the front desk!” I exclaimed, before recalling that our room phone didn’t work.  “Help!” I screamed helplessly.

Then, as I was trying to figure out how to call the front desk on my cell, help arrived in the form of a very nice Hilton worker who tried to explain why the door wouldn’t open, as we blithered, “It doesn’t matter, we’re late, just please fix it!” Whereupon we dashed down the huge Hilton hallway to our session. The good news is that he did… fix it! Both the door and the phone.

Amazing AASECT Audience

The other good news is that our Bonobo Way session was fantastic. At least, for me it was. Hopefully, the audience enjoyed it as much as they seemed to, though you never know what a bunch of therapists are really thinking.

Not that there weren’t a dozen other technical problems. For starters, the room was much too small for the crowd. Maybe they gave me a tiny room because I’m tiny, or since it was my virgin conference, they wanted a tight fit. Whatever the reason, the room was packed with many sitting on the floor, and most of the attendees who came to The Bonobo Way were turned away at the door. Max was happy to say we were “sold out,” but I felt bad that so many people who wanted to learn about bonobos couldn’t get in, even some who were there several minutes early. Even Serena and several other friends couldn’t get in. Sorry about that folks!

At least, Dr. Patti Britton got in. In fact, this warm and wonderful AASECT-certified sex educator, therapist, past AASECT president, founder of Sex Coach University, my editor on The Wiley-Blackwell International Encyclopedia of Human Sexuality, AASECT Sexuality Educator of the Year 2016 and recipient of a Mal Jones Bonobo Way Female Empowerment award, introduced me. This was kind of perfect, as Dr. Patti has called The Bonobo Way “a refreshing must-read for our times.”

Among her many illustrious connections, Dr. Patti happens to be a cousin of super sex worker icon Xaviera Hollander, author of the Happy Hooker, who called The Bonobo Way “marvelous—a happy book for a happy life and a happier world.”

Those lucky AASECTers that got into the room 15 minutes early comprised a tightly packed, sapiosexually knowledgeable and deliciously enthusiastic group of colleagues, comrades, friends, lovers and intriguing strangers. Though every group has been a great audience in their own ways, it was especially gratifying to bring the Tao of the Bonobos to folks whose business is pleasure, sex education and sex therapy.  After all, our kissing cousins (almost 99% genetically similar to us) have a lot of sex, quality and quantity, in a Bonobo Sutra of positions. Some say one thing that makes us “human” is we have sex face-to-face unlike other animals who do it from behind, also known as “doggy-style” because it’s so animal. But bonobos love sex face-to-face, often while gazing deeply into each other’s eyes, like Tantric sex practitioners or two people very much in love… or a couple who’s been through an intensive AASECT training.

PHOTOS 1, 2 & 4: MAX   PHOTO 3: EDDIE FERNANDES

The list of bonobo erotic activities is more extensive than the original Kama Sutra and the menu at the Bunnyranch combined:  lots of oral sex, including cunnilingus, fellatio, body-licking, ear-tonguing and long, deep, soulful French kissing. Lots of masturbation on the one hand (so to speak), especially in captivity, and lots of group sex on the other, in many combinations. After all, bonobos are the Make-Love-Not-War chimpanzees who swing through the trees, as well as with each other. This factoid was applauded by the many swingers in the audience, including sweet Eddie Fernandez who took pix of the talk with my phone, even though he’s never even owned a cell phone!

Bonobo Spirit (not the airline). Photo: Eddie Fernandes

The safer sex coaches in the crowd could appreciate that bonobo sex includes a lot of outercourse (actually more outercourse than intercourse), massage, tickling, erotic grooming, genital play with objects utilized as “sex toys,” rough play that I call “Bonobo BDSM,” food play, foot play, genital play, breast play, nipple play, anal play—lots of play! Bonobos love to play, as do humans, of course. Though here in Humanville, play has gotten a rather bad rap from our puritanical, work-crazed culture as being frivolous and beside-the-point. For bonobos, play is the point.

Erotic play is part of the ecology of life, making wild Bonoboville resemble an old-fashioned love-in, especially around lunchtime. Bonobos love to combine food and sex, aka eating while eating. Yum! Actually, this could give some of us humans indigestion, one of many reasons not to full-on imitate bonobos. So before my eager attendees might sue me for acute gastritis, or because their client fell out of a tree, or got busted for engaging in some kind of illegal bonobo sex, I tried to make clear that “releasing your inner bonobo” does not mean that they or their clients should live just like bonobos. That less than 2% genetic difference between us, the complex expression of our genes and those pesky cultural differences make comprehensive “aping” impossible, ludicrous or dangerous. Thus, I advised my audience to please use cultural common sense and not get carried away when practicing the Bonobo Way.

Then again, smearing your favorite delicacy on your favorite lover’s favorite body part and sucking it up, with feeling, can be delicious for you and orgasmic for them. Just don’t try this with the Piyako escargot.

Overthrow the Killer Ape!

Essentially, The Bonobo Way is a new inclusive great ape paradigm for human sexuality, inspired by a role model who isn’t even human. It’s the gentle but firm overthrow of the Killer Ape, because the Killer Ape is killing us. For decades, everywhere, from university anthropology departments to the Planet of the Apes film franchise to the Pentagon, from Dr. Phil to the NRA, experts, sexperts, politicians and arms dealers have used the old ‘killer ape’ paradigm to explain and excuse bad human behavior—everything from murder and war to jealousy and lousy sex, as well as to support such violent power structures as the military-industrial complex, the prison-industrial complex, abusive police, restrictive religion, schoolyard bullying, anti-sex legislation, the abuse of sex workers, to name a few.

This Killer Ape paradigm is not wrong; it’s based on common chimps, who can be killers, and the even more vicious savanna baboons (who aren’t even apes, they’re monkeys, with tails!). The Killer Ape darkly suggests that all Great Apes are Natural Born Killers, and that bowing to brute male force and the threat of being killed is more natural and sensible than surrendering to feminine sexual power and the possibility of sharing love.  Or is it?  What about the bonobo?

Sometimes called “the last ape,” bonobos weren’t discovered until 1930 (while humans were talking about “chimpanzees” at least as far back as 1738), and, for decades after that, they were barely mentioned, let alone studied, in the hallowed halls of academia—not even at my own otherwise progressive alma mater—mostly because they are just so damn sexual. And yes, so are dolphins, but bonobos look like us, probably closely resembling some heads of college anthropology departments, which could be embarrassing… especially when you’re up for tenure.  

Bonobo Way Movement

Now that bonobos have come out of the academic closet, so to speak, there’s a growing Bonobo Way movement rising around the world—in education, conservation, art, fashion, journalism and community—some of whom I’ve been meeting as I talk about different aspects of bonobo culture to different groups, institutions and Bonobovilles around the world.

One reason I’m part of this movement is that bonobos are really amazing, but they are not angels. They’re animals, like us. Like us, bonobos can be violent. And puritanical bonobo debunkers like Ian Parker in the New Yorker love to point this out as if to say “I gotcha!”  But no, you don’t. Yes, bonobos hunt in the wild. No, they’re not vegetarians. They eat a little meat occasionally. Like us, they fight, sometimes over the silliest things, sometimes over very serious issues (for them). But they use sex and inclusivity to diffuse violent tension before it descends into murder and mayhem… or the chimp version of ISIS and Trump. Maybe those two should try penis-fencing. Now that’s a reality show I’d watch: Small Hands and Al-Bagdadi pull out their shortcomings and get down!

PHOTOS: EDDIE FERNANDEZ

Bullies like that tend to be anti-inclusivity. Because to thrive, bullies need enemies, and inclusivity destroys your enemies, by turning them into friends.

For many humans, bonobos represent the antithesis of the bully, a part of our more inclusive, less hate-powered nature, which may be connected to our prehistoric hunter-gatherer heritage as suggested in Dr. Chris Ryan’s Sex at Dawn. Can we rediscover that part of ourselves? Can we stop turning our sexual frustration into murderous aggression, depression and alienation? Can we challenge ourselves to become better lovers, better sharers, better givers? Can we extend ourselves to saving the real, highly endangered bonobos from extinction? Can we “free our inner bonobos”… before it’s too late?

Who really knows? But I say yes. Because the Bonobo Way starts with me. Or, in your case, you. The Revolution starts with you. Even if you can’t change the whole world, at least not all at once, you can change your world; that is, yourself.  And if you’re a therapist or educator, you can help your clients and students to change their world, if they want, to release their inner bonobo for their own benefit, for the benefit of their loved ones, their community and maybe even the world.

And yes, there are backlashes, some bitter, some bullying. And some are terrorizing, as we were to find out, to all of our shock and dismay, within less than 24 hours. But you can’t build a wall to keep out change. And the terrorists don’t win if we don’t let them terrorize us.

But I’m getting ahead of myself, and at this point, we were all blissfully unaware of the horror-to-come that night in Orlando. Nevertheless, lethal anti-sex atrocities happen every day, so I did feel the need to warn my audience to “take care” when going bonobos, as Puritans, like poachers, shoot-to-kill your inner bonobo… sometimes literally.

Questions & a Cosmo Girl

Before responding to some excellent questions (video coming soon!), I slipped out of the business casual jacket and into “something more comfortable,” a little lace number. Actually, there were so many good questions, I didn’t do half the talk I planned, reminding me that the best-laid plans may not get you laid the way you planned.

Getting Lei’ed by The Bonobo Way. Photo: Eddie Fernandez

Nevertheless, all question-askers “got lei’ed” (by me!) with an ecosexy green lei provided by Agwa di Bolivia Herbal Coca Leaf Liqueur. We talked about bonobos, the Bonobo Way and how the attendees could help their clients and students to “go bonobos,” “release your inner bonobo” or, as we call it at the Institute, “Bonobo Liberation Therapy,” aka BLT—far more delicious than the sandwich and a lot less fattening.

A couple of the best questions were put by AASECT-certified therapist Linda Weiner (who actually encouraged me to submit my AASECT talk proposal in the first place, though we didn’t meet until the actual session) and her Sensate Focus writing partner, Constance Avery Clark, who was one of first to read and critique Sex at Dawn. And at the end of the talk, who comes up to chat but adorable Cosmo editor Julie Vadnal who oversaw “Acing Your Orals.”  Small World Syndrome strikes in San Juan!

“Sensate Focus” co-authors Constance Avery-Clark & Linda Weiner get lei’ed by The Bonobo Way.

Also big thanks to magnificent Malcolm Jones and the ladies of the Bonobo Way Female Empowerment Outreach Project whose generosity and encouragement helped us to make this trip possible.

Bonobo Way Graphic Recording

One of the most inspiring, playful and useful aspects of the session was the amazing spontaneous comic poster done by Terry Laban of Break Through Visuals.

Terry’s “graphic recording” was a masterpiece of real-time cartoon illustration. Without having done any previous research (to my knowledge),Terry totally “got” the Bonobo Way, including many complex details, just by listening to my talk. Plus he draws bonobos much better than those Planet of the Apes artists.

Better Escargot & Sunset Afterplay

Sometimes the cheaper stuff is better. That’s what we discovered when we decided to forgo the overpriced and over-sauced Pikayo for the humble Hilton Condado Café Caribe where the escargot were palatable, if not excellent.

Even the view was better from Cafe Caribe. Photo: Max

At least, instead of weird mushroom gravy, they were just swimming in butter sauce. But where do they put the shells? I asked the waiter who smiled blankly as though I’d just asked him where they’d thrown out the bones from my snapper filet.

Aw… who cares about some snail shells? Mildly exhausted from the presentation and celebrations, the Captain and I basked in the balmy blue San Juan sunset, continuing our bonobo chat with AASECTers who had attended the talk, as well as those who couldn’t get in, sipping our mojitos and beers, counting our blessings and falling ever more deeply in love.

Rude Awakening

We woke up to Orlando, 50 people dead and many more critically wounded. At first, few facts emerged in between long, self-aggrandizing speeches by law enforcement. As we packed, as we heard that the murders took place in Pulse, a popular gay nightclub, on “Latino Night.” Tragically for this Island of Enchantment that had so enchanted us, almost half the victims were Puerto Rican. As we took in the news, it seemed as though the very palm trees wept, their long fronds swaying as they grieved.

Smiling for the camera, but sad inside. Photo: Waiter

We heard that the perpetrator, one Omar Mateen, had called 911 to pledge allegiance to ISIS, though he had no trackable relationship with the group, and he’d expressed affinity for Al Qaeda and Hezbollah, not exactly ISIS partners. We heard that he beat his ex-wife, remarried, fathered a son, made bigoted remarks to co-workers, and struggled to please a domineering Afghan father who told reporters his “good son” had expressed “disgust” at the sight of two men kissing (and later that he was “90-95% sure” his son “wasn’t gay.”). We also learned that Mateen knew the Pulse nightclub well enough to gain entrance without a problem, fully armed with semi-automatic assault weapons he’d purchased legally, and then lie in wait for his victims, killing many more than most mass shooters do. I wondered aloud, “Was this guy a self-loathing bisexual who wanted to destroy his own attraction to men by killing  himself, and selfishly, heinously figured he might as well take as many of his fellow homosexual ‘sinners’ as he can down with him, calling it an ISIS attack so Dad wouldn’t realize he was gay?”

Without all the facts (and we’ll never have all the facts), who really knows? But as a sex therapist (not AASECT-certified), I’ve talked with hundreds of self-confessed, self-loathing bisexual males. Many are married men with children who have or fantasize about having various kinds of sex with men, and they feel that their own innocent homosexual desires are utterly humiliating and inherently revolting. Many are victims of religious sexual abuse (different religions), in that their priests, ministers, rabbis, imams, parents and teachers tell them in no uncertain terms that homosexuality and bisexuality are condemned by God, and their homosexual desires make them worse than murderers. None of my clients have expressed the desire to commit murder, let alone mass-murder (at least, not to me), but some confess they consider killing themselves, because their shame is so intense. I hope I’ve helped to keep them from doing so by talking, listening, exploring, answering their questions and letting them know their desires are normal and good. If they’re at all open to science, I tell them about bonobos, explaining that these very close genetic cousins of ours are also “gay,” bisexual, pansexual (their Latin classification is pan paniscus), or just fluid, as are plenty of other animals, including humans, and the peace-through-pleasure bonobo culture proves that LGBTQ diversity is utterly natural and beneficial for the community. I also try to help the angry ones learn anger management, bonobo-style. I know my AASECT colleagues work towards similar goals, albeit in different ways. And I wonder: How many more Mateens are out there could be stopped with some sex education or therapy? How many lives might be saved if, instead of the condemnation to hell that the world’s major monotheistic religious leaders give us, we could practice a more open, accepting and, yes, bonoboësque attitude toward sexuality in all its many-splendored variations?

Sadly, tears for Orlando—and Puerto Rico–dampened the pleasures of our last morning in San Juan.  On the other hand, they served to underscore the life-saving value of sex education, counseling and therapy and the important, difficult work that my AASECT colleagues are doing, each a bonobo sapien revolutionary in their own unique way.

Spirit in the Sky

Back to Bonoboville, we flew Spirit, the Greyhound bus of the air, priding itself on “no bundling, no bamboozling, just bare fares,” and charging you $55 extra just to take your normal-sized carry-on on the plane with you. I’ll take bundling over this kind of bamboozling any day.

But wouldn’t you know it: Our two Spirit flights turned out to be delightful, both for reasons that were no thanks to the airline. On our first flight, we found ourselves sitting next to one of the conference’s most charming speakers, AASECT-certified sex therapist, teacher and author, Dr. Myrtle Means.

With fellow AASECT 2016 speaker, Dr. Myrtle Means.

Dr. Myrtle has done some fascinating research, including her dissertation on women’s sexual satisfaction which found that married women without children report the greatest sexual satisfaction, with single moms ranking #2 and single women without children at #3 and married women with children bottoming out at #4, reporting the least satisfaction with their sex lives.

No wonder I had such a great time that weekend… and pretty much every weekend. Ah, childfree’s the life for me…

We also talked about her beautiful old-fashioned name, the same as my mother’s, (which means I’ll never forget Dr. Means), bonobos and, of course, Orlando. Now news was emerging that Mateen had not only frequented Pulse and other gay nightclubs, he also connected with guys through gay dating apps. No word on whether he ever got counseling. Too bad there’s still such a stigma attached to people getting the sexual help they so deeply and desperately need and don’t want to admit to anyone, even their families, often especially their families.

In Ft. Lauderdale, we stuffed ourselves with pizza from San Felice (Max’s favorite Italian town where he lived with Annie Sprinkle and Willem de Ritter) before boarding our Spirit Flying Bus, prepared for five hours of cramped discomfort. Instead, we were met with a pleasant surprise we haven’t encountered since before 9/11.

The only thing better than having a fascinating sex therapist sit next to me is having no one at all sit next to me, and that was what happened. Blessed by the Spirit of Roominess, the Captain and I got to stretch out big-time, turning the flying bus into First Class luxury for two sleepy bonobos.

And before we knew it, we’d been Spirited back to Bonoboville, and much as we enjoyed our tropical adventure and AASECT encounters, it’s good to be home again. Hope to see you here some Saturday night during another sure-to-be sexy Bonobo Summer of Love.

Meantime, if you’d like to give me a birthday present, please “adopt” a bonobo or just donate what you can to Lola ya Bonobo or the Bonobo Conservation Initiative, or just get The Bonobo Way, where a portion of all proceeds goes to help save the wild bonobos from extinction. Or donate to help the Orlando victims, those fighting for some measure of gun control, peace or sex education. Let us reach out to others as if they are part of our family, because they are.

Hug someone you love. Or, better yet, hug someone you don’t love.

Let us reach out to the stranger, like bonobos do.  

See The Bonobo Way of Inclusivity at AASECT

© June 21, 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?

With Marlo Marquise, Charlotte Stokely, Billy Antiseptic, Tasia Sutor, Lyla Storm, Jeremy Conway, Katie Kinns & Mona Sunoy. Photo: Irwin J

Length: 122:09 minutes        Date: 11/05/2011

Free PG-ish Pix. X Pix and Video at DrSusanBlock.tv

This show is dedicated to committed couples who keep their bedroom doors wide open.  My featured guests are three sexy young power couples: one married five years, one about to get married in two weeks and another living and working together “24/7” for the past year.  All three have open relationships, and one even brings a gorgeous American Apparel model/porn star who is their current erotic “distraction.”  It’s a chilly autumn night, but my Womb Room heats up fast when one guest gets so hot she literally breathes fire, tonguing the flames like a lover.  Several other, less dangerous types of oral erotica ensue, climaxing with a hot husband and husband-to-be giving heroic cunnilingus and analingus to their wife and fiancée, respectively, side by side, as the rest of us cheer them on in this make-shift “Pussy-Eating Boot Camp,” demonstrating two keys to any hot sexy marriage: giving fantastic head and a keeping a good sense of Commedia Erotica.

Featured Guests:

Marlo Marquise: Back on RadioSuzy1 for her second show (her first being Retro Pierced Burlesque), this elegant fetish model and burlesque performer is the female half of our first smoldering hot power couple who mix business with pleasure, being lovers as well as business partners for House of Virtue Productions.  Strapped exquisitely, albeit uncomfortably, into another one of her lover’s unforgiving hard-leather corset, Marlo heats up the whole Speakeasy when she deep-throats fire (more…)

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?

Happy Holidays from Bonoboville! Photo: Jux Lii

Length 1:52:36 Date: December 24, 2016

by Dr. Susan Block

Merry Christmas, Brothers and Sisters! Chag Sameach Hanukkah! Merry Muhammed’s Birthday! Happy Pancha Ganapati! Bountiful Bodhi Day! Happy Kwanza! And Happy Merry Sexy Sun Birthday! Did I leave anybody’s favorite winter holiday out? All Holidays Matter. See, this is why sometimes—War on Christmas, Peace on Earth or Satanic Solstice—it’s easier and more inclusive to just say “Happy Holidays.”

Yet this show does happen to fall on Christmas Eve, as well as the first night of Hanukkah, coinciding—or colliding—to produce one of the biggest “family” nights in the Western World, and Bonoboville is no exception.  Like most family holiday gatherings, ours is filled with emotional reunions, political arguments, explosive outbursts, dramatic runaways, childhood memories, true confessions, ecstatic celebrations and a cornucopia of love. Unlike most family holiday gatherings, ours includes getting naked and turning solemn religious rituals into wild kinky games, from a Christmas nativity scene filled with religiously inspired dildos to Hanukkah hot wax play, after-party strip dreidel and a Happy Nude Rear.

Holiday Incest Fantasies & Rabbi Mrs. Santa’s Naughty Helpers

No outside guests for this special intimate evening, just a few close members of our current Bonoboville “family.” Of course, none of us are blood-related so, if and when we have sex, it’s not “incest.” However, incest fantasies are a prime topic on this “family” show. In that sense, I guess I’m the “Mom,” though I’m dressed like a naughty Rabbi crossed with Mrs. Santa Claus, sporting “Jesus Loves My Ass” panties, a tallis with a red and white “naughty” elf cap on a navy blue shtreiml. Dangling above my cleavage: a Star of David woven from the unraveled threads of prison uniforms by inmates at Twin Towers jail, a gold cross given to me by a strict Catholic sex therapy client (after I helped him to “lose” his virginity at the age of 42) and an international peace sign surrounded by symbols of all the world’s major religions.

Gathered around me are Mrs. Santa’s naughty little helpers, Gypsy Bonobo and Jacquie Blu, along with pansensual power couple (both raised strict Seventh Day Adventist): Chef Be*LiVE rawking a pair of pink high heels, and Daniele Watts in an Xmas teddy that doesn’t stay on her very long. Behind-the-scenes are Del Rey live-tweeting via @RadioSuzy1 and Paniscus Brecht on the Facebook live cam, with Abe, Mar, Harry, Melissa the bartender and the wonderful Bonoboville volunteers holding up the rest of the tech fort. As always, Capt’n Max is at the helm, steering the ship of XXXmas elves and Hanukkah hotties, from Topanga to Tehran, through the holidazed high seas.

Tammie & the Trumpster

Mid-show, we are joined by Tammie Parrot, also looking gorgeous in skimpy Elfin slutwear. We haven’t seen Tammie since she voted for Trump, probably because she voted for Trump, but we love her beautiful, “deplorable” ass anyway, and we welcome her back with hugs and kisses under the mistletoe. The holidays are a time of forgiveness, and besides, it’s the Bonobo Way of peace through pleasure, though I grit my teeth nervously when she talks about “defending” me with her weaponry. Just don’t bring those weapons into Bonoboville.

Tammie Returns. Photo: Janerzon Deleon

We even give our trussed-up, safety-pinned plush-toy voodoo doll Trump the Dick with Small Penis Syndrome the holiday “love” treatment. Obviously, the Trumpkin needs a lot of love (his Mommy issues, for one reason), as evidenced by his notorious late-night tantrum tweets. Though we don’t forgive the Orange One for the way he’s already dragged down our culture and is threatening to do a LOT worse.

Daniele’s Christmas Confessions

Daniele also has a soft spot for Trump Daddy, which Capt’n Max and I do not coddle, leading to some heated, family-holidayish interchanges.  Speaking of Daddies, Daniele confesses that she sent photos of herself receiving Bonoboville Communion naked to her Dad, much to his consternation. Then, in a hilarious and kinky twist on a family outburst, she stomps out of the Womb Room, seemingly offended by the way the Womb Room receives her first Christmas Confession. Off-stage, she takes a shower, and then the Prodigal Daughter Returns, soaking wet and beaming like the thousand-Watt Star of Bethlehem that she is.

Daniele’s Christmas Eve Confession under Hot Wax Interrogation. Photo: Hugo Flores

Her next confession is particularly emotional and sensationally exhibitonistic (though not narcissistic, even though she calls it that). She even delivers this confession as I “torture” her, dripping hot wax from a Hanukkah candle on her bare breasts as she quivers and shrieks.

For the full confession, you’ll need to watch the show, but in a nutshell: She actually DID have sex with her husband (then fiancé) Chef Be*Live in their car, fully clothed, on that notorious day when they got arrested in Studio City.  You can find out more about the famous incident in our 24th Wedding Anniversary, but on this show, you get to a deeper truth, as Daniele releases her bottled-up shame and Bonoboville erupts in the ecstasy of empathy with this luminous, courageous performance artist and explorer of “truth” in its infinite variety.

Hanukkah Hot Wax

In between confessions, outbursts, mistletoe kisses, a brief but electric  Ikkor the Wolf appearance, Bonoboville Communion (in which I am honored and delighted to be Gypsy’s altar girl), Agwa Waterboarding, bites of Jux Lii’s Cannabelly brownies (a deliciously disorienting arousing Bonoboville favorite), and dripping red hot wax on Gypsy Bonobo’s butt and blue wax on Jacquie Blu to the tune of Carmina Formosa’s “The Kinkster,” Jack Nice playing the Grateful Dead’s “Friend of the Devil” on ukulele, I tell the Story of Hanukkah.

Though a minor holiday in the Hebrew calendar that is elevated simply to give Jewish kids something to do around Christmas, Hanukkah is actually based on some recorded history: In 167 BCE, the occupying Greek king Antiochus IV Epiphanes (from Syria, of all places) commanded the occupied Jews to worship the Greek gods, instead of or, at least, in addition to, the Jewish God, aka Adonai, aka Yahweh. The assimilated or “Hellenized” Jews were cool with this dictum, but the more purist or fundamentalist Jews were pissed and refused to “bow down” to the Greek gods.  

Some, like the tragic Hannah and her Seven Sons, even let their own children die rather than eat pork or worship the “idols” of the Syrian Greeks. One fundamentalist Jewish priest, Mattathias, and his son Judah Maccabee, led a guerrilla war of the Maccabees against Antiochus, which wasn’t just between Jews and Greeks; it was a civil war between the fundamentalist Jews and the assimilated Jews, eerily reflective of the current civil war in Syria. Indeed, some modern rabbis say that the glorious Maccabees were a kind of intolerant Jewish Taliban who would not look kindly on liberal American Jews or most Israeli Jews either.

Hot Blue Wax for Jacquie Blu. Photo: Hugo Flores

It just goes to show: One person’s “terrorist” is another person’s “freedom fighter.” There is righteousness and blame all around in the Hanukkah story and in the current news in Syria where the question of which side is “right” pales in comparison to the humanitarian catastrophe that all the battling has unleashed.

The Maccabees won the Hanukkah war, recapturing and rededicating the temple, which they later lost, but the holiday celebrates the “miracle” of their victory, and the sacred myth that the oil in the temple’s everlasting lamp, which was only enough to last a day, actually lasted eight days. Bloody and confusing Jewish Taliban war stories notwithstanding, this brings us to my longtime favorite part of Hanukkah: the eight-pronged (plus one) Menorah.

When I was a child (yes, your naughty Rabbi Mrs. Santa Claus was once, long ago, a child), my relatives and I would bet on which candle in the menorah would last the longest. This Block family tradition lives on in the Bonoboville candle race, and on this show, Jacquie’s candle wins, perhaps a sign that she will win one or both of the TEAs (Transgender Erotica Awards) for which she is nominated in 2017.

Even though my dear parents admonished me not to, I used to love playing with the hot molten wax that dripped from the Hanukkah candles. But who knew that I would take my slightly pyromaniacal childhood fascination to the “next level” in Bonoboville, making hot wax play an integral part of our Hanukkah celebrations. For one of the best, see last year’s Clip-O-Rama Hanukkah Hot Wax clip. And watch this show! Not only do we drip the hot wax onto Gypsy and Jacquie’s bouncy buns and Daniele’s shimmying boobs, we let the molten light of Hanukkah drop down onto Chef Be*Live’s naked cock. Ouch! The Chef’s got balls!

Jesus Loves the Sex Workers

Whether or not Jesus really existed, was the son of a god or the symbol of a moment, he was one of the world’s great rƎVO˩utionaries, preaching a bonoboësque peace and a social agenda that denounced greed, bigotry, misogyny and violence. Though many of his current followers are quite sex-negative, according to scripture, Jesus was not. Indeed, Jesus loved the sex workers, aka the ho’ ho’ ho’s. He brought marginal individuals to the center and welcomed outcasts to the table and into heaven.

Hanukkah Double Butt Hot-Waxing. Photo: Hugo Flores

Xmas celebrates Jesus’ birthday, of course, though most of the holiday’s customs hail from the Roman Saturnalia and the Norse/Germanic Yuletide. Here in Bonoboville, we especially love the mistletoe, a very bonoboësque plant of peace, under which enemies could declare a truce, couples explore their first embrace or warring spouses kiss and make-up. 

We also love our dildonic XXXmas nativity scene, housed in a manger meticulously built (with snow on the roof!) by Miguel, featuring the Divine Interventions Baby Jesus butt plug in the central starring role, a bonobo doll playing Mother Mary, and three novelty dildos—Buddha, Satan and Billy J. Clinton—playing the Three Kings who visit the child god. In the attic above the manger, representing the sexy savior this baby boy will someday become, rises the Jesus Jackhammer dildo.

Divine Interventions Nativity Scene (manger by Miguel). Photo: Dr. Suzy

Beauty or Blasphemy

My apologies if I offend anyone with my holiday dildonics, antics and interpretations. I must confess as a former Sunday school teacher and current sex therapist who treats many victims of religious sexual abuse, I myself have a bit of a fetish for exploring religious rituals in playfully titillating ways. It has long seemed to me that all the major monotheistic religions use mythology, fantasy and fear to try to control our natural, blooming sexuality, channeling it into procreation (leading to environmentally dangerous levels of over-population), instead of more ecosexual, bonoboësque recreation.  Besides weighing heavily on our planet’s limited natural resources, all that religious control leads to abuse, oppression, ignorance, bigotry, hypocrisy, murder, mayhem and much human-made misery.  

On the other hand, it also stimulates erotic rebellion and exhilarating, some might say “blasphemous” kink, as Daniele so dramatically exhibits in her Emmy-worthy, confessional performance.  In a sexually twisted society such as ours, many people need the friction of being “naughty” in order to feel nice. 

Baby It’s Cold Outside

Speaking of naughty versus nice, Bonoboville weighs in on the “Baby It’s Cold Outside” controversy. Is this rather “naughty” 1949 Xmas seasonal standard which snagged an Academy award in Neptune’s Daughter, and has been famously sung by Dinah Shore and Buddy Clark as well as Margaret Whiting and Johnny Mercer  not to mention Lada Gaga and Tony Bennett, a story of “rape culture” in action or a romantic tale of consensual seduction? Is this catchy, naughty ditty better off rewritten with “nice,” more politically correct lyrics as attempted by Lydia Lyza and Joseph Lemanski? Listen to the archive above or watch this show on DrSuzy.Tv to find out how Bonoboville weighs in.

Baby, It’s Cold Outside! Photo: Abe Bonobo

As for me, I believe it is extremely important to resist and denounce rape and rape culture, especially with a self-confessed “Pussy-Grabber-in-Chief” about to assume the U.S. Presidency. And I can see how some folks might construe some of the “Baby It’s Cold Outside” lyrics as “rapey.” The line “say, what’s in this drink?” may bring Bill Cosby to mind, even though I think it’s meant more as a humorous excuse for the woman to fall into the man’s arms without being judged as a “slut” by her relatives and nosy neighbors. All in all, I personally see “Baby It’s Cold Outside” as far more romantic than “rapey,” and primarily, as a song of a woman’s sexual liberation in female-repressive 1940s America, so she can stay with a hot man whose company she enjoys rather than bow to society’s misogynistic control.  

My Christmas Eve confession is that I have a very personal relationship to “Baby It’s Cold Outside,” since it was one of the songs that Capt’n Max and I listened to as we fell in love back in 1990. We even played it on one of our “Desert Susan” tapes that we sent to soldiers during Desert Storm, in hopes of “seducing” the generals and the troops into laying down their arms and coming home. In that sense, the song is an enticement to shun the “cold outside” of war and to come inside to our Womb Room of warmth and peace through pleasure.

NYE 2017 in Bonoboville

So once again, Happy Holidays, Brothers and Sisters! I love you, even if you’re a “deplorable,” misogynistic neo-Nazi KKK Trumpeteer, I love you. My guess is that you need love even more than libs like me who talk about it all the time. I hope that you lay down your arms, trade hate for love, or at least a little peace through pleasure, and join with me in resisting the impending Trumpocalypse. It’s bound to be a lot of hard work, but it’ll also be fun. It’s got to be fun. Like Emma Goldman, “If I can’t dance, I don’t want to be part of your revolution.”

Hot Wax RƎVO˩ution. Photo: Hugo Flores

Speaking of dancing, spanking and coming into 2017 on the Sybian with a bang… Don’t miss our sure-to-be sextacular New Year’s Eve  in Bonoboville this Saturday night featuring a galaxy of Domme-stars and kinksters! RSVP: Call 310-568-0066, make your reservations here or just watch us in the Bonoboville lounge.

Thanks to this week’s volunteers: Camera Operators – Alister Conway, Jim; Photographers – Janerzon Deleon, Hugo Flores; Bartender – Melissa Ello; and our in-house bonobos Abe Perez, Del Rey, Gypsy Bonobo, Harry Sapien, Jacquie Blu, MarsFX, Paniscus Brecht and Zane Bono.

© December 25, 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: 98:10 minutes        Date: 12/03/2011

Free PG pix page.  X pix and video at DrSusanBlock.tv

In our third live broadcast focused on Sex at Dawn: The Prehistoric Origins of Modern Sexuality, the Womb Room explodes into a chasm of brain-gasms that lead to a daisy-chain of orgasms, male sword-swallowing (the most dangerous deep throating you’ve ever seen), squirting, fisting and then back to brain-gasms again. A sensational and provocative Commedia Erotica festival of sex & the discussion of sex—who says you can’t judge a book by its lover(s).

Cramming for a Sex at Dawn test with Dani Jensen, Cherie DeVille & Lily Cade. Photo: Mad Passion

Featured Guests

Christopher Ryan, Ph.D.: Co-author of Sex at Dawn, New York Times best-seller and “the most important book about human sexuality since the Kinsey Report,” according to none other than Dan Savage, this is my third interview with Chris, but it’s his virgin experience in the Womb Room.  This time he comes with his co-author/wife, the luminous Dr. Cacilda Jethá.  Of course, we’ve already spent two shows (Sex at Dawn 1 and Sex at Dawn 2) discussing the book’s brilliant theories regarding the “promiscuous” nature (more…)

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/2023/13/20230909_fdr_118_edit_2.mp4

by Dr. Susan Block. 

It’s Self-Love September 2023, and we’re celebrating with all our fingers and toys! According to the Internet, Self-Love September is more about affirmation than masturbation. There’s nothing wrong with affirming how great you are to your Doubting Thomas self, but seriously, if self-love doesn’t include a little quality self-pleasure time (which could include mutual masturbation, if you have a lover), you’re not fully loving yourself.

Sex with partners can be complicated—verging on treacherous—especially these days. Consent is essential, but can be difficult to discern for some. Given the post-#MeToo climate and other concerns, sex with other people comes with new dangers. Better to be safe than sorry and err on the side of caution. Nevertheless, sex is vital to mental and physical health and healing. So, what are we to do? Sacrifice our sexual health and seek safety in celibacy? Never fear! Wanking is here. Solo sex, since it only involves you, may not be the *best* sex, but it does tend to be simpler, especially since consent is 100% guaranteed.

It’s natural! Aside from grasping tree branches and smartphones, the human fingers appear to be made for stroking, strumming—and self-loving!  Bonobos love to masturbate, as do other apes like us – it’s part of keeping the PEACE through Pleasure. If we were more masturbation-positive, we would probably be a less violent species.

As George Carlin said, “If God had intended us not to masturbate, he would have made our arms shorter.” Of course, there’s no reason you can’t go bonobos for self-love all year around; but Self-Love September is a great time for you self-love slackers to step up your game.

Masturbation is often denigrated as a sort of “slacker” sex since, unlike sex with someone else, it’s easy, please-y and doesn’t require hardly any work. In that slacker pleasure spirit, we say “Rest in Paradise” to the late great Jimmy Buffet.

No, he didn’t promote masturbation, though I’m sure he did it, like everybody else. But Jimmy Buffet did popularize slacker chic.

There was something bonoboesque about about Jimmy Buffet’s songs, though bonobos don’t drink margaritas—at least not in the wild—even if it’s 5 o’clock somewhere, though they would enjoy a cheeseburger in paradise.

Just as some people are ashamed of masturbation, back in the late 70s and 80s, I used to be ashamed of liking Jimmy Buffet, because his music wasn’t serious or important. But then I learned how serious and important pleasure and relaxation are, so no, I’m not a Parrothead, but I’m proud to say I like Margaritaville. It’s right next to Bonoboville.

It’s almost Fall or Autumn Equinox, another name for which is “Mabon,” after the Welsh God of the Harvest. In keeping with Self-Love September, I call it “Mabon’er” (yes, women get Lady Boners).

For the Greeks and Romans, Fall Equinox is actually a “fall,” aka the Rape of Persephone (Proserpina to the Greeks), daughter of Demeter (Ceres to the Romans), the great Earth Mother Goddess of the Harvest, Fertility and Agriculture. Like too many unfortunate maidens then and now, Persephone is sexually assaulted by her mean old Uncle Hades, or Pluto, the Lord of Hell.

As Hades sweeps her up into his chariot, Persephone literally falls through the Earth into the Underworld, taking her Mother’s joy and the Earth’s abundance down with her. Raging with grief, the Earth Mother almost destroys the Earth. Fortunately, Mama Demeter has the wherewithal to work a deal for sustainability with King Zeus, aka Jupiter, for her beloved daughter to reunite with her half the year, at which point, she blesses the Earth with the glories of Spring and Summer.

Of course, these Greek myths were created before Climate Change started wreaking havoc with our seasons. Still, they show us that no matter how bad things get or seem to get, we can usually work out a deal to make them better.

It’s also coming up on the 22nd anniversary of 9/11, that horrific yet surreally cinematic castration of America’s tallest Towers of Power, Dick I and Dick II, whose destruction served as two mega doses of Viagra for America’s Military-Industrial-Congressional Complex.

Thus G.W. Bush’s self-proclaimed Wars on Terror entered the Perma War phase of American hegemony, turning into modern “crusades” and devastating losses for everyone (except the war industries) that still harm us all to this day.

Capt’n Max, Unscene Abe, our Callin commenters and caller Burt Sesame reflect upon the 9/11 attacks and American’s aggressive response that changed our world.

Cockfight at the Baghdad Corral

If any single country was responsible for this crazy crime, it would be Saudi Arabia, as 15 out of 19 of the 9/11 hijackers were Saudi, and there has long been evidence of Saudi funding, but we don’t bother the Kingdom—that happens to sit atop 17% of the world’s oil—because they’re our friends. With friends like that, who needs enemies? Well, we do—at least our war machine does—and so we made Iraq and Afghanistan our enemies and attacked these countries without provocation, virtually destroying these nations, gaining nothing for the American people (unless you consider American weapons makers and oil companies “people”), and paving the immoral way for Vladimir Putin to attack “Iraq – I mean Ukraine. Same thing.” Yes, that Freudian slip and accidental confession comes courtesy of our war-criminal-turned-bad-painter George W. Bush when he was attempting to condemn Putin.

Though Dubya was the Prez, he was a puppet president whose strings were pulled by the Dark Lord of Perma War, his “Vice,” Dick Cheney.

Sadly and frighteningly, the crimes of Bush and Dick carry on and expand, as Julian Assange, who exposed them, languishes in prison. It is sad that these two Chickenhawk war criminals can fly free while eagle-eyed journalists who embody the First Amendment are confined to cages.

Speaking of “Vice,” our Vice TV piece has over 180,000 views. If you’d like to see some of the fun frames from the piece, and read about my mixed feelings regarding Vice portraying my adVice and phone sex therapy practice, click here.

View-hungry Vice execs also changed the beginning of the title from “Dial ‘O’ for Orgasm” to the more salacious and neo-Puritan-triggering “Masturbating During Therapy.” It’s irritating, but it’s Self-Love September, so I might as well embrace it, and it’s true that I allow masturbating during phone therapy. It’s a good thing!

I am not the ‘thought police,’ and I believe in the therapeutic healing value of talking about what’s on your mind with someone who can help you handle it.

In honor of everything, Max smokes a joint and I munch edibles, as we discuss the impending decriminalization of magic mushrooms, psychedelics and other fine drugs in California.

Of course, legalization or decriminalization is only the first step. Uva 13 calls in to talk about the problem of corruption in the cannabis industry, as there is corruption in every American industry, including other, more respectable drugs hopelessly corrupted by Big Pharma and the doctors they bribe.  

All the more reason we need a little socialism injected into the run-amok capitalism that is choking us—literally (try breathing our so-called air without coughing like you’re toking weed) and figuratively (try starting up new companies in any field without really good, well-connected lawyers).

Well, we end on a positive note with Uva: As long as the corruption doesn’t poison your pot, it’s a great aphrodisiac!

It’s also almost Rosh Hashanah, the Jewish New Year, and even though I am NOT a Zionist nor a religious Jew, I’m Jewish so I wish a “L’shanah Tovah Rosh Hashanah!” to all my Lonsmen who celebrate. Also: Free Palestine!

And free Assange! Make Kink Not War. Follow The Bonobo Way of peace through pleasure. Be Bonobo.

© September 9,  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?

Bonoboville tries to teach President-Elect Trump the Bonobo Way. Photo: Abe

Length 1:53:53 Date: November 12, 2016

by Dr. Susan Block

As Election 2016 finally heaves itself across the finish line, some celebrate while others mourn. Here in Bonoboville, we do both. We celebrate the glorious and just defeat of California Prop 60 which we worked our sexy butts off to beat, in an erotic rainbow of ways. And we mourn, oh yes, we mourn (most of us in black, sporting Brexit-inspired safety pins) for the seemingly moribund America of our sex-positive, multicultural, environmentally conscious, interracial, gender-equal dreams.

Fifteen years ago, most of the world was shocked and appalled by 9/11. Now we (some of us) stand, sit or lie down with the help of a strong sedative, shocked and appalled by 11/9, the day after We the People elected, to put it in crass (but, I think, apt) sexual terms, a big DICK with small penis syndrome. And by “dick,” I mean that this is a candidate who ran a campaign of open racism, sexism, fascism, climate change denial, miscellaneous lying, misogyny, bigotry and bullying. We may never know what he feels in his heart, but on the surface, all we could see were small hands and a big mouth giving hope to hate.

Sucker-Punched in the Electoral Gut

I want to say to my friends, fans, colleagues and clients that voted for Trump, I love you. I congratulate you on your winning ticket. I am trying to understand you in a Bonobo Way. I want to be a good loser, a good sport, though politics is not just a sport. And this loss was handed to us with a swift sucker-punch to the gut, since our much-venerated polls certainly didn’t predict President-Elect Trump.

Ironically, The Simpsons predicted President-Elect Trump, as did a few others, like Michael Moore. But we didn’t, though we worried about it, and did what we could to stop the Trumpocalypse, on this show, in Bonoboville and in the voting booth, just as we did what we could to stop Prop 60.

Well, we won our Prop 60 battle (woohoo!), but we lost the White House, as well as those other two Houses. So on this DrSuzy.Tv show, before blowing off steam orally and otherwise, we explore the week’s events, attempting to process the electoral process… which is really a case of Electoral Dysfunction because actually, Hillary won the popular vote. That is, with the full count almost complete, it appears that the majority of Americans voted for Clinton, not Trump. Yet Trump will be our President. This is because the Electoral College system essentially gives more votes to rural areas, and takes away votes from the larger, more dense metropolitan areas. This same thing happened on a smaller, less shocking scale when Bush took the presidency in 2000, even though Gore won the popular vote.

“Unfair!” as President-Elect Trump would say if it hadn’t tilted things in his favor. Actually, he did say that the “electoral college is a disaster for a democracy” back in 2012, but that was then, and now, here we are, stricken with Electoral Dysfunction, shivering on the precipice of the Trumpocalypse.

Electoral Dysfunction on the precipice of the Trumpocalypse in Bonoboville. Photo: Zane Bono

7 Steps to Electoral Healing

So, after we mourn, analyze, laugh, cry, party (I’ll give more details of our wild DrSuzy.Tv post-election party in a moment) and have some really hot sex (sex is often hot, healing and absolutely necessary in times of strife), we progressives really need to do something. Actually seven things, in my not-so-humble opinion, starting with…

• Abolish the Electoral College. It was created to support slavery in the 18th Century, and is as antiquated as nonconsensual whipping posts. We the People need to go with one person, one vote, like most democracies around the world. This way, the city people aren’t at the mercy of the country folks, as we are now. Ironically, as Trump Country’s Henry Grabar points out, “the ideology that most distinguishes the Democratic Party from Trump-brand Republicanism—support for immigrants and racial minorities—is one that would improve the fortunes of those who handed it such a rousing defeat.” Abolishing the Electoral College would ultimately be good for all of us, even though Republicans will fight this abolition like the South fought Lincoln. Therefore…

• We progressives must keep fighting – playfully and without killing anybody, in the Bonobo Way – for the liberal, peace-loving, sex-positive values in which we believe. For some, that means trying to work with the incoming administration and hoping that President Trump will not be as horrible as Candidate Trump, that the New York City liberal we hear is somewhere inside of him will come out, so to speak, now that he’s won. After all, Trump’s a narcissist, not an ideologue, and a big baby who’s hungry for love. Maybe we could somehow help the baby to “bind the wounds of division,” as he put it in his relatively mild victory speech, and guide him toward becoming more bonobo and less baboon. Maybe the softer, gentler President-Elect Trump of the 60 Minutes interview, already backing away from Candidate Trump’s divisive racist rhetoric and asking his supporters to stop the violence, is the President we will have. Maybe he’ll even end or reduce America’s out-of-control perma-wars, as he’s suggested. So, in the spirit of hope, optimism and support for a brand new administration, we are sending President-Elect Trump, his staff and family (which are pretty much the same) copies of The Bonobo Way, as a peace offering and primate primer. Even if it’s only read by Melania’s maid, it’s a start. However…

• We mustn’t be tooooo hopeful or naïve about the coming Trumpocalyse. President Trump may not be as bad as Candidate Trump. But at any sign of rolling back the progressive gains we’ve made, we shouldn’t hesitate to protest the radical, racist, sexist, reactionary campaign platform of this President who lost the popular vote. For instance, we should ask our progressive representatives to obstruct Trump/Pence’s promised Supreme Court picks to replace the late Justice Antonin Scalia with even more conservative judges who would rule against women’s rights, LGBTQ people, immigrants and people of color. This is what the Republicans successfully did with Obama, and we should learn from the winners. We should not give up our rights without a fight.  We must not allow hate, discrimination, misogyny and lying about the facts to be “normalized” (as John Oliver puts it) by the media “elites” that made Donald Trump, then tried (halfheartedly) to deny him the presidency and is now, since he won, attempting to suck up to him.We must stay vigilant in the #Resistance (Bill Mahr‘s term for us now). It’s a test of character! Nevertheless…

• We should maintain our sense of humor. Laughter is a mental orgasm. Humor heals the pain. Our parodies and puppet shows help us to keep our sanity in the mounting madness, because winner or not, President, King or Holy Aryan Emperor, Trump IS a dick with small penis syndrome that has pretty much fucked us all. And unlike that nonconsensual “pussy-grabbing” boast that progressives abhorred and the Trumpers didn’t mind a bit, in this election, Trump has fucked us consensually. We asked for it, we googled it, we watched it, we knew what it was, and enough of us voted for it (or, for various reasons, didn’t vote for Hillary), so now we’ve got Trump the Dick as our President. #NotMyPresident is not an option, unless we really do move to Canada. So we’d better learn how to handle this particular Dick, or it will fuck us again and again, in holes we didn’t even know we had. I must say I like having our Trump the Dick Puppet here in Bonoboville trussed up with gaffer’s tape, a dog collar fairly choking the big dickhead, his tiny penis captured in a cock-and-ball harness, his big mouth gagged with a banana. Humor is a tonic, though what makes one person laugh offends another, and candidate Trump’s relentless rhetoric of hate has many people afraid, and that’s not something to mock. Children are afraid. Grown people are afraid. I am afraid. Therefore…

• We ought to acknowledge our fear, but not let it blind or oppress us. This is much easier said than done, but it’s better than ignoring our entirely justifiable fears and assuming “everything will be okay.” Things might be okay, due to a series of miracles. President-Elect Trump’s milder behavior right after his win is promising or, at least, reassuring to Oprah. Then again, he’s barely had time to catch his breath (sniff!) and realize he won and doesn’t have to set up Trump Tv to keep his name in the news. The man’s a well-known wild card, but if Trump’s campaign is any indication of a Trump presidency, it will be very “not okay” for women, minorities, immigrants, LGBTQ people, people of color, people of religions other than Christian… and did I mention women? It is already getting more “not okay,” as various hate crimes and acts of harassment are being perpetrated by self-proclaimed Trump supporters against women, progressives and minorities in the name of their victorious leader. President-Elect Trump himself condemned these acts, but maybe, thanks to his rhetoric of hate on the campaign trail, that cat is out of the bag. Some progressives are not afraid, but most of them are white and male. The rest of us are afraid, and we shouldn’t pretend we’re not. However, let’s not wallow in fear and its crippling sister emotion, anxiety. Rather, let’s use our fears to motivate us to fight, if and when we have to. Fear is a great motivator, and it can be an aphrodisiac. Just think of the Trump regime as perpetual Halloween. Hey, it got us through the Bush years, sort of. Moreover…

• We need to try to better understand why we lost this time and what it takes to win. This might be toughest for us liberals and progressives, but I think we need to ask ourselves: Why are we such losers here? What does “loser” mean to us? Last week, a snarky writer who claims to be my fan-girl, called me a “loser,” even though I’ve “won” a pretty cool life, with my loving husband of 24 years and the exciting, creative community of Bonoboville surrounding us. But I did lose this election, along with my fellow progressives. Ironically, some of my sex therapy clients get sexually aroused by being name-called “loser,” in the right erotic context. It makes me wonder, do we progressives stimulate the toxic yet seductive pathos of loss by our famous disorganization, our pickiness coupled with our general inability to select the *right* (charismatic) candidate, or our nihilistic tendency to not vote at all? Do we eroticize our own victimhood, our political humiliations that so inspire our leftist op eds? Why don’t we build winning coalitions with female solidarity, like bonobos do? Why can’t we run popular leaders that voters actually like? Why do we always seem to break up into bickering urban and urbane factions like the long-lost liberals of Weimar Berlin? Whatever the reason, it’s a self-inflicted progressive “electoral dysfunction” that could kill us, and we need sex therapy! A LOT of sexy sex therapy. And I’m not just saying that because that’s what the Block Institute provides (though we’ve been getting quite a few guilt-ridden third-party candidate voters calling for therapy in the last few days). But we need to reflect on the reasons for our loss. Though let’s not drown ourselves in a puddle of self-humiliating guilt, another crippling liberal tendency. So…

• Let’s celebrate the few victories we achieved in this election. One of our mottos here in Bonoboville is “any excuse to celebrate is a good one,” even (or maybe especially) in times of anguish and fear. On that note, three cheers and a beer bong for our beautiful blue state of cosmopolitan California which just elected Kamala Harris to the Republican-dominated U.S. Senate, as well as Kate Brown, Oregon’s new openly LGBTQ Governor, Tammy Duckworth, U.S. Senator from Illinois, a Democrat and veteran (who lost both her legs in Bush’s stupid and tragic Iraq war), and Catherine Cortez Masto of Nevada, America’s first Latina senator. We’re sending them all congratulatory copies of The Bonobo Way, a Weapon of Mass Seduction in their bound-to-tough battle with Republican-controlled Washington.
  

7 Steps to Healing Electoral Dysfunction. Photo: B Natural

More Stuff to Celebrate—Especially #NoProp60!

Speaking of bongs, California also passed Prop 64, “legalizing” recreational marijuana for all adults… sort of. There are some definite drawbacks to Prop 64 in terms of the quantity you can buy per day, growing cannabis outdoors and the purchase of edibles (which will still require a medical recommendation), but most voters were not generally educated in this regard. So we mix a bit of mourning with celebration of Cali’s vote of confidence in the value and relative harmlessness of the wonder weed.

As for the downfall of Prop 60, draconian brainchild of Michael Weinstein, AIDS Healthcare Foundation CEO and wannabe California Sex Czar, we celebrate that as the unequivocal, pretty damn near perfect victory for sex-positive freedom that it is, with joyous Agwa-infused Bonoboville Communions and blowjobs exploding into oral orgies in the bar and gardens, branching off into hot sex on couches and in beds throughout Bonoboville, including the Captain’s chambers.

Thank you Siouxsie Q James and Julia Ann of the Free Speech Coalition for coming on DrSuzy.Tv to spread the word and doing so much to make sure our limited sexual freedoms weren’t completely taken away by this oppressive and impractical proposition.

Morena Black & a Bonobo Bacchanal

Kudos to our guests and in-house bonobo sapiens, starting with our featured first-time guest Morena Black, a horny housewife from the red-state, rural “Christian” area of Florida that helped to put Trump in the White House. Morena preferred Hillary, but she didn’t vote (like so many progressives), and now her neighborhood, invigorated by Trump’s win, might be a little less hospitable to transgender people of color like her. But at the moment, we’re all hoping for the best, and Morena is riding high on her new and successful career as a porn star.

PHOTOS 1, 2 & 4: B NATURAL. PHOTO 3: ZANE BONO

Soft-spoken but proud to show off her stunning body, she doffs her top to play Altar Girl to a very thirsty Jacquie Blu and, in a spectacular XXX second Communion, she pulls off her pink panties (actually Jacquie pulls them off and Gypsy smells them) to reveal her uncut cock of over eight inches which Jacquie sucks like a delicious big banana pop while spanked with The Bonobo Way and whacked by Nurse Jay.

Morena Gets Lei’ed. Photo: B Natural

Speaking of bananas, our Trump puppet stays gagged with his, and looks quite at home in the whole bacchanal. Maybe that’s some sort of sign that he will defend LGBTQ rights like he held up that rainbow flag after all. Though he’d have to wrestle over that one with “gay conversion therapy” supporter Mike Pence.

Also on this show: Sarah Bella Bonobo, who helped spread the No Prop 60 word on a grassroots level, talks about winning, losing and her exciting new radio show.  Gypsy Bonobo (now a therapist with the Block Institute!) enlightens us as to what we lost in winning the passage of Prop 64.  Jay Toriko, dressed up as a nurse to heal us from our Electoral Dysfunction and sucker-punch wounds, bares his butt for Morena’s Communion. And that’s how Morena “gets lei’ed” on DrSuzy.Tv.

Agwa Princess Shannon. Photo: Zane Bono

Stunning Shannon Coronado pours the Agwa di Bolivia Herbal Coca Leaf Liqueur in petal pink contrast to the basic black of the rest of us. In between Communions,  Jacquie Blu talks about her fears of the Trumpocalypse as a trans woman. Jux Lii of Juxleather tells the story of meeting Trump, “a nice guy,” and then seeing him *accidentally-on-purpose* spill red wine on a journalist’s white dress while complaining about a mildly critical article she wrote about him.

PHOTO 1: JUX LII.  PHOTO : ABE. 

So, which Trump will our new President be? The almost reasonable-sounding “nice guy” of the 60 Minutes interview or the Trumpocalyptic race-baiting, misogynistic, lying big baby Dick with small penis syndrome of the campaign trail? Or an insidious, toxic mix of the two? Or worse? Regardless, with three full houses of reactionary Republicans at America’s helm, I’m following the 7 Steps to Healing Electoral Dysfunction.

Breast Therapy for Electoral Dysfunction. Photo: B Natural

Thanks to this week’s volunteers: Camera Operators – Jamal Berry, Conwell Stewart; Photographers – B. Natural, Jakari Turner, Sarah Bella, Jux Lii; and our in-house bonobos Abe Perez, Beverly Bonobo, Del Rey, Gypsy Bonobo, Harry Sapien, Jacquie Blu, MarsFX and Zane Bono.

© November 13, 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?

Whipping It Up for Lupercalia 2017 on DrSuzy.Tv. Photo: B Natural

Length 1:32:05 Date: February 4, 2017

by Dr. Susan Block

It’s February, so-named for the februa, leather strips that the ancient Roman Lupercalians would wield across hot palms and willing behinds, flogging and whipping the populace into a sexual frenzy that would very often lead to a baby boom nine months later.

Februa for February! Photo: Diego Sanchez

Lupercalia is the original Valentine’s Day, when the mid-February festival focused more on the pleasures of inclusive lust than the pressures of exclusive love. Unsurprisingly, the ancient pagan, Pan-centered Lupercalia was far too wild for the early Christian Church. Once ensconced in the power seat of Rome, the Church turned the horned and horny, great and goat-legged god Pan into Satan, aka the Devil, and transformed “The Lupercal” into the sanitized, commercialized holiday we now know as Valentine’s Day.

Pan Paniscus and Valentine-Shaped Buns

In a way, I love Valentine’s Day—because I love love. Married almost 25 years (to the same man!), I’m a living proof of lasting love, and Capt’n Max and I celebrate it every day, even when we’re too mad to even talk to each other. But honestly, single or married, I’ve always found Valentine’s Day to be rather forced; so, when I discovered its freewheeling roots in Lupercalia, I was thrilled to put my heartfelt February energy into the primeval Festival of the Februa.

Moreover, here in Bonoboville we are lupey for Lupercalia, partly because we are perpetually inspired by Pan, God of the Wild and patron saint of the bonobos, their Latin classification being Pan Paniscus. This year, not only are we whipping it up for Lupercalia, we’re gearing up for it with this first Saturday of February pre-Lupercalian warm-up.

The Valentine Heart is an Ass. Photo: B Natural

Speaking of the heart, there’s another symbol of Valentine’s Day, as well as a popular social media icon, which seems Lupercalian in origin. Consider that the classic Valentine “heart” looks nothing like the cardiac organ for which it appears to be named. It does, however, closely resemble a well-whipped set of buns. No wonder we call the perfect ass, “heart-shaped.” Because the heart logo’s dimensions are that of the perfect ass. Moreover, when it’s whipped or flogged, it glows bright red… just like several butts on this wild, whiptastic show.

Goddess Phoenix & FetPros

Kicking off our pre-Lupercalia warm-up is one of the world’s finest floggers, DomCon’s resplendent red-carpet hostess and professional Dominatrix extraordinaire, Goddess Phoenix, who first graced our stage on New Year’s Eve, winning the 2016 SUZY award for “Most Dazzling Domme.” Once again, the Goddess dazzles the Womb Room with her hypnotic fiber-optic floggers that seem to shoot like stars across the heart-shaped asses of several subbies, electrifying the ancient Lupercalian custom with a 21st century spin.

Goddess Phoenix, Super Domme! Photo: S. Block

She also lets us know about her brand new brainchild, FetPros.com, here to “fill the hole” (in more ways than one) that the demise of Backpage’s adult section created. Fetpros features professional FemDoms, Masters, slaves and submissives showing off their BDSM talents, turning 50 Shades of Grey into 50 million colors of the fetish rainbow.

The Goddess displays her various leather, light-up and soft-cloth floggers with rhythmic flair, as well as her powerful hands, on several willing behinds, including our own Gypsy Bonobo and Jacquie Blu, to the spank-catchy tune of Carmina Formosa’s “The Kinkster.”

The Joy of Ms. Joy Luck

However, the Goddess focuses much of her dazzling dominance on a beautiful virgin to Bonoboville, Ms. Joy Luck, fet-pro player of Sanctuary Studios LAX.

Lucky Joy. Photo: Diego Sanchez

Ms. Joy Luck more than lives up to her name, as she is a joy, and we are lucky to have her. With more than “enthusiastic consent,” she follows Goddess Phoenix’s instructions and subjects her heart-shaped ass to her various implements of pain and pleasure, pronouncing each stroke “delicious.”

Pre-Lupercalian Sybian Ride

After the break, the plucky Ms. Luck volunteers to ride the Sybian—for the first time! First she strips naked, as the Womb Room gasps, murmurs and suddenly gets a lot more crowded. People in the bar, gallery and the garden see her on the monitors, stop what they’re doing, and soon are thronging in to witness, up-close, this vision of loveliness, a nude Venus amongst us, the Goddess of Beauty herself, giggling and mounting the infernal machine.

Ms. Joy Luck rides the lucky Sybian. Photo: 2G Photography

To keep the Lupercalian rhythm going, Goddess Phoenix whacks Ms. Luck from behind with a neon orange paddle she later gives me as a gift, and I spank her other cheek with The Bonobo Way, as she fingers her shaved labia and clitoris.

Actually, she seems to enjoy the spanking more than the Sybian, as she dismounts before she comes, and asks for more spanks and flogs, which we are only too happy to provide her.

Goddess lends her lightning whips to Madam RavenRae and Sir Pent. Photo: 2G Photography

Later, the Goddess generously lets a couple of my other guests, Madam Raven Rae and Sir Pent try out her fiber-optic floggers on Ms. Joy Luck’s lovely, lucky naked derriere.

Sexy Madam Raven Rae  

It’s great to see Madam RavenRae, whom we last saw on Winter Solstice with Elvis, back in Bonoboville. She’s like a member of the family that we haven’t seen since the holidays.

Sexy RavenRae joins the party. Photo: 2G Photography

FetPros supporter and Goddess Phoenix’s partner in FemDom Power Parties, as well as winner of the 2016 SUZY award for “Sexiest Domme,” Madam RavenRae is sexy as ever in rich Lupercalian burgundy to match my own.

Garden Selfie

Sir Pent & His Nipple-licious Slavegals

Also on DrSuzy.Tv for the first time is the gallant Sir Pent (pronounced “serpent”), with his two submissives, one of whom is his wife, aka Slave Princess, while the other is her best friend, submissive Fire. Both curvy ladies are only too happy to be flogged by their Sir, simultaneously or separately, butts or boobs. 

Sir Pent whips it up for Lupercalia with wife Princess & GF Fire. Photo: B Natural

Fire even submits to a special pre-Lupercalian naked boob-flogging, her prodigious nipples hardening with each flick of the Februa.

This reminds me to give a shout-out to good old Cosmo magazine, which features my advice on nipple play in the current issue. This triggers Gypsy’s fond memories of her first sex lessons as a young Cosmo Girl. Maybe some of those lessons were from me… No wonder she turned out so fantastic.

Nipple Play in Cosmo. Photo: B Natural

Nipple play leads to relationship talk, and Sir Pent and his nipple-licious slavegals divulge some juicy details of their boundaried but BDSM-open Ménage à Trois.

The Wolf Howls for the Lupercal

And wouldn’t you know it: several members of the cast of “Ménage à Trois,” the erotic trilogy by Tuesday Conner that we featured on last Saturday’s show, join us from our studio audience, including Tuesday, the Oracle, Twin Butterflies and “Sexiest Rapper” 2016 SUZY award winner, Ikkor the Wolf.

Ikkor the Luper howls for Lupercalia. Photo: B Natural

The Wolf happens to be another Lupercalian power symbol. The star of the Lupercalia story is its namesake, the “Luper.” If you don’t know a “luper” from a “leper,” the former is Latin for “She-Wolf.” I’ll tell you more of the story on February 18 when we celebrate Lupercalia, or you can check out last year’s Commedia Erotica performance. For now, I’ll just say that the Luper makes her star appearance when she miraculously rescues the infant twins, Romulus and Remus, the future founders of ancient Rome, from drowning in the Tiber River. Then, she “suckles” them in a cave they call the Lupercal. Interestingly, the word “lupa” is Latin slang for “prostitute”… which explains a lot, especially all the suckling.

Ikkor is most definitely a He-Wolf, though he nourishes the Womb Room with his music.  He doesn’t even have to stand up; he just lays back between the sexy legs of Madam RavenRae as he raps, “She Bad,” and we all dance and flog our hearts with februa.

Trump/Bannon Wrecking Ball

Did you think that, aside from the safety pins on my boobs, we managed to avoid politics on this show? Not a chance! How is it even possible, with such crazy “alternative facts” (the latest being Kellyanne Conway’s much parodied, nonexistent “Bowling Green Massacre”), along with shocking and unconstitutional executive orders shooting like misplaced missiles out of the White House on a daily basis, in the face of some of the largest protests the world has ever seen?  Is this chaos sheer incompetence or something more nefarious; a deliberate Art of War-like maneuver to push the media and the public into such a confused, out-of-balance state that we can’t even see that this brand new executive team without a mandate is taking a wrecking ball to peace, liberty and all that we hold dear.

This is why I love the meme parodying Miley Cyrus’ “Wrecking Ball” with a near-naked and quite corpulent Trump riding the wrecking ball that is Stephen K. Bannon’s head. As the Clown-in-Chief and his surrogates lurch, screech and crash into things, like drunken kids driving a tank down Main Street, Bannon is fulfilling his mission to “wreck” the America he seems to so passionately resent.

Continuing to celebrate the Chinese New Year of the Cock, we keep Trump under “gag order” with a dildo. We also put him in a collar and a sailor hat (symbolizing his relationship with Navy man Bannon as well as his lethally botched Navy Seal mission against an Al Queda house in Yemen). You could say it’s our Trumpocalypse Therapy, kind of like using a punching bag to release frustrations, or maybe a voodoo doll.  But Trump only cares about people saying he’s got a big one (cock or inauguration crowd), when we all know it’s pretty tiny.  He just wants to be loved, which must be a bitch when you’ve got the lowest approval rating of any new U.S. President… ever!

Gagging Sailor Trump with the Dildo. Photo: 2G Photography

Bannon is more of a true believer, in love with war and crisis (just look at his films), as well as capitalism, nationalism, patriarchy and “Judeo-Christian values,” which, according to the second of his three ex-wives, comes down to his being an old-fashioned wife-beater.

World Bonobo Day & Golden Age

What’s a good ethical hedonist to do? Resist and protest, practicing rƎVO˩utionary peace through pleasure, the Bonobo Way. Speaking of which, February 14th is “World Bonobo Day,” as so declared by our friends at the Bonobo Project. So, please donate what you can to these wonderful folks, as well as Lola ya Bonobo and the Bonobo Conservation Initiative, and give the gift of The Bonobo Way on Valentine’s Day to someone you love, even if that someone is YOU.

Just before Valentine’s Day, we will broadcast The Dr. Susan Block Show live on Sunday, February 12th from the Cupcake Theater with Nina Hartley, Seka, Ron Jeremy, Amber Lynn, Kay Parker, Veronica Hart, Alana Evans, Hyapatia Lee, Kelly Nichols and more stars of the Golden Age of Adult Cinema – nothing to do with Trump’s Golden Showers… then again, who knows?

Post-Show Flogging, Orgasms & Bonobo Love

Meanwhile, on this pre-Lupercalia warm-up show, the flogging continues into the wee hours. I even get a fiber-optic flogging lesson from Goddess Phoenix, using Jacquie’s amenable ass and back for my target practice.

My Fiber-Optic Flogging lesson with Goddess Phoenix. Photo: Abe Bonobo

Then it’s time for my Valentine. After kissing our guests on both cheeks, we grab each other’s not-exactly-heart-shaped but very happy buns… to romp together like young Lupercalians through the orgasmic countryside of our marriage bed.

Don’t miss Lupercalia 2017 – featuring  Mistress Porcelain Midnight,  Bambi Leigh and more –  next Saturday, February 18th in Bonoboville. 

As always, join us in-studio or watch us online.

Happy Lupercalia 2017 from Bonoboville. Photo: Abe Bonobo

Thanks to this week’s volunteers: Camera Operator – Conwell Stewart; Photographers – 2G Photography, Andy Martin, B Natural, Diego Sanchez, Jux Lii; Bartender– Marcia Parker; and our On-Campus Bonobos Abe Perez, Del Rey, Gypsy Bonobo, Harry Sapien, Jacquie Blu, MarsFX, Johnny Jungle, Clemmy Cockatoo, Ana & Miguel.

© February 5, 2017. Susan Block, Ph.D., a.k.a. “Dr. Suzy,” is a world renowned LA sex therapist, author of The Bonobo Way: The Evolution of Peace through Pleasure and horny housewife, occasionally seen on HBO and other channels. For speaking engagements, call 310-568-0066.

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/2015/13/Bettie_Page_Radio_Interview_1991_2.mp3

Length: 01:32:36Date: Originally Recorded – Sept. 16, 1995
See the Video at DrSusanBlock.tv  

This is the first live on-air interview ever with the incomparable “Notorious” Bettie Page, Queen of Pin-Up, Queen of Fetish, Queen of the Jungle and Queen of our Hearts. It is also Bettie’s longest, most in-depth interview ever. For video of the interview, featuring vintage film and photos of Bettie in her prime, accompanied by the voice of Bettie Page herself, talking with Dr. Suzy about her extraordinary, legendary and ultra-mysterious life, click here.

“Bettie Page was the Queen of Pin-Up, Queen of Fetish, Queen of the Jungle and Queen of our Hearts,” says Dr. Susan Block. “She gave us boundless, buoyant eroticism, and she did it during the sexual Dark Ages, 1950’s America, when Senator Estes Kefauver and his censorious cronies cast as dark a shadow on the US Senate as their sinister colleague, Senator Joe McCarthy. She was a freethinker in an era of extreme, stultifying conformity. Most of us who are interested in sexuality, fashion and freedom take great inspiration from her example and great joy from all her amazing images.”

Besides being a “Bettiephile,” Dr. Susan Block is also a sex therapist in private practice, a best-selling author (her latest book is The Bonobo Way) and host of Radio Sex TV on HBO and The Dr. Susan Block Show on radio, cable TV and the World Wide Web. The first live interview that she did with Bettie Page on The Dr. Susan Block Show was also the longest interview (90 minutes) that Ms. Page has ever done.

For a video of the interview, including footage of Bettie Page in action, click here

For more info, click here

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?

Purimschpiel 2013: Brianna Brooks, Heidi Hollywood, Lyla Pink (Queen Esther) Tee Reel (King Ahaseurus), Dr. Susan Block (High Priestess of Purim), Amor Hilton (Queen Vashti), Dark Phoenix (Haman); Row 2: Jesse Flores (Eunuch), Haley Sweet (Harem Girl), Victoria Veil (Eunuch), Daryl Wright (Pimpin’ Cousin Mordecai), Tasia Sutor, Max Hardcore (Palace Musician). Photo: JuxLii

Length: 1:21:03   Date:  Feb. 23, 2013

See the Free Pix! See the X Pix & Full Video on DrSuzy.tv!

It’s another amazing, erotic, educational, transformational Porn ‘n’ Purim Bacchanal in the Womb Room as the Commedia Erotica cast of porn stars, comedians, transwomen and Hollywood socialites reenact the sexiest story in the Bible (or the second sexiest, if you prefer “Song Of Songs”): the Book of Esther, aka Megillat Esther, which tells the tale of the ancient Persian Jewish beauty contest winner who saves her people from genocide by using her Weapons of Mass Seduction. The storyline might be familiar, especially if you got Bar Mitzvah’ed, but believe me, this is not your Bubbe’s Purim.

Keep in mind that, in true Commedia Dell’Arte tradition, this reenactment is totally improvised—no rehearsal, no script, no net but the Internet—with parts, costumes and sex acts determined just moments before our live-on-the-air performance!  Fortunately for those players and viewers who don’t know a hamantaschen from a hard-on, you also get a little guided narration from your Irreverend Rebbetzen here who, once upon a time, was a Sunday school teacher.  In a way, I still teach Sunday school, except now I do it on Saturday nights and half my class is naked.  This Saturday turns out to be quite a lesson in human behavior—both during and after the Purimschpiel (Purim play).

I’ll get to “after” later; first let’s talk about the show—which happens to be one of our finest Purimschpiels ever (see Purim 2008 and 2011 for oldies but goodies)—exciting, provocative, ridiculous and erotic.  Of course, with a cast of some of the world’s hottest porn stars, even reading Facebook’s Rules and Regulations would be erotic.  But much of our Purimschpiel’s eroticism lies in the original story.  This makes it stand out against most of the Hebrew Bible, aka the Old Testament, which is only “pro-sex” when it comes to procreation.  Just about every other kind of sexual relation is presented as “unclean” or an “abomination,” often punishable by death or even fire and brimstone for the entire community.  But the Purim story is a very sex-positive one: a feminist tale in a patriarchal time, beginning with the feast of a king and the disobedience of a queen and ending with the obedience of a king and the feast of a queen.

I won’t go into all the details (though if you’re a Purimschpiel fetishist, you can read my full erotic exotic interpretation of the Story of Esther here)….This ain’t Sunday School, though you may call it Sex Education Bible style…Sunday School Purimschpiels don’t feature golden dildo scepters! Basically, there’s this Persian King named Ahasuerus (sometimes said to be a version of the ancient Persian King Xerxes), who ruled over 127 provinces from India to Ethiopia, and, once upon a time, he throws a six-month drinking, eating, gambling, and sex festival (and you thought Charlie Sheen was decadent). During the climactic week-long feast, King Ahasuerus, “merry with wine,” orders his wife, Queen Vashti, to display her beauty to him, his court, and his people, in an ancient version of striptease (i.e., naked).  In a pre-feminist act of feminism or just an ancient outburst of bitchiness, Vashti refuses to strip down for her royal hubby and his drinking buddies.  For this, she is banished or beheaded (depending on the translation), though our Bonobo Purimschpiel just flogs her royal naked body on the cross.  In an ancient Persian version of “Who Wants to Marry a King?”, the king calls for a new queen, to be chosen from all the kingdom’s virgins (you can imagine the comic erotic possibilities of casting porn stars as virgins—thank you Ideal Image Management!). The king chooses Esther, a Jewish girl entered into the contest (aka pimped) by her cousin, the hero of the story whom I lovingly call “Pimpin’ Cousin Mordecai.”

Like I said, I’m not going to tell you the whole story (find those juicy details here), but needless to say, Esther arouses the king, and when she kisses the “tip of his scepter,” and wow, she gets him big and hard as an iron sword. But all is not rosy in Shushan (the magical city where Purim takes place), as the king’s evil right hand man, Haman, like a lot of ambitious politicians throughout history, has a thing against Jews who won’t bow down to him (like Mordecai), and he devises an extermination plan that would—and did—make Hitler smile. After a bunch of twists and turns—all illustrated with X-rated panache in our Purim play–Queen Esther fetes, fellates, sucks and seduces the king into saving her people from genocide.  She’s quite a powerful sexual woman, Queen Esther, whether or not she really existed—right up there with Cleopatra and Scheherazade—and that is why we celebrate her and her Weapons of Mass Seduction here in Bonoboville.  By the end of our Purimschpiel, the Jews have been saved, the king has been schtupped, and everyone has been treated to a healthy spectacle of Biblical sex… both on stage, and continuing into the afterparty. Whew, whatta lotta L’Chaim!

BUT…sad to say, there is a disturbingly dark side to Purim’s *happy ending,* as there is to our after-party.  In terms of the story:  Though the king revokes the genocide edict, he cannot call off the hordes of swordsmen hell-bent on killing Jews; he gives his royal permission for gangs of Jewish swordsmen to kill thousands of their enemies in “self-defense,” including Haman’s 10 sons, some of whom are too young to even lift a sword. According to the Bible, this awful orgy of bloody revenge is all part of the “gladness, feasting and holiday-making.” For a peacenik like me, who so appreciates Esther’s ability to seduce her king away from killing, this part makes me want to toss my hamantaschen. Is this what the rabbis mean when they tell us that, on this night, we should drink so much we can’t tell the good guys from the bad?  Must the oppressed become the oppressor? Must the cycle of violence go on?

Not that I’m surprised. The Biblical and real histories of Judaism, like its offspring: Christianity and Islam, are densely littered with the dead victims of God-loving, righteous, racist mass murder. Check it out; it’s all right there in your Bible, Koran, Bhagavad Gita and other so-called holy books.

Which brings me to the dark side of Purim 2013 in Bonoboville, and it pains me like a heart attack to write about this, but I feel I should bloggamize the bad along with the good that goes on here, as I have always done. Anyway, on Purim, we’re “commanded” to drink so much wine that we can’t tell the difference between the good (Mordecai) and the bad (Haman).  That sounds like a lot of wholesome inebriated fun, and usually it is, but of course, it can be dangerous.  So, after a terrific Purimschpiel, several hours of erotic peace through pleasure, and too-enthusiastic an attempt to honor the Purim drinking tradition, one of our staff members “lost it” and became crazy-violent.  It was a tremendous shock to the Bonoboville system, as violence like this has never happened here before in over 20 years of shows and wild bacchanals.  Then it escalated, other staff members got involved and it got even worse.  I certainly don’t want to go into detail here or name names.  Not at this time.  I do want to apologize to all of our guests who were here and let you know that, though we are devastated by this barbaric outburst, we are trying our best to deal wisely with the situation and ensure that nothing like this happens here again.  It’s not easy, to say the least.  I’m just grateful that no one was seriously injured–or worse.  Fortunately, none of the people involved had guns (another reminder of how important gun control is in these psycho time)!  But incidents like this painfully remind me of why I’m dedicated to the cause of peace through pleasure.  It’s something I’m constantly studying, trying to understand in relation to bonobos and humans.  Having such senseless violence explode in your midst—seemingly out of nowhere (though it’s never just “out of nowhere”) like a terrorist attack on all you hold dear—is a terrible trial by fire.  Fortunately, some heroic members of our staff helped diffuse the situation in the most bonobo manner possible under the circumstances, so it didn’t get even worse.  Thank you, Brothers and Sisters, we appreciate your efforts, we love you, and though we have been wounded, our wounds will heal, and we will get through this better than ever, as we have gotten through all of our fiery trials.

We’re also proud that this show, as well as all of our February shows, is part of Eve Ensler’s One Billion Rising movement to stop violence (including rape) against women and everyone else.  We each have to try to stop the chain of violence in the world and in our own backyard, as we learned in this after-party.  But I don’t want to let this stupid after-party incident take away from our marvelous Purimschpiel performers. So without further ado, here they are….

FEATURED PERFORMERS:

Tee Reel: It’s fitting that the King of Ideal Image Management plays our King Ahaseurus. It’s good to be the King! And Tee is a natural for sitting on a throne commanding “virgins” to do his lusty bidding. Before the end of the evening, he has his royal scepter kissed and sucked, and I mean both the golden dildo he actually carries as a scepter, and his actual royal member. And with a royal member like Tee’s, it’s obvious why he’s the king.

Amor Hilton: It’s such a joy to have our favorite Hollywood socialite, who also happens to be a nice Jewish girl (on her mom’s side) back on DrSuzy.tv. We’ve missed her!   Amor is always a pretty princess, but this time we make her a queen: the prudish or willful (depending on your interpretation) Queen Vashti who refuses to dance for her hubby the king, only to be stripped by the guard, hung up on the cross and flogged as naked royal eye candy for all to ogle.

Lya Pink:  Our Esther is another Ideal Image Management star, batting her dark seductive eyes from behind her veil (The root of Esther in Hebrew is hester, meaning “hidden”), persuading the king to choose her above all the beauties of his harem.  Then she opens up her most powerful Weapon of Mass Seduction: her mouth—to both plead her case and give the king’s royal scepter the best head of his life.

Dark Phoenix:  Reprising his signature role, the Phoenix rises from the ashes to give a great performance as Haman, the Jew hater, garbed in Nazi gear and a tri-cornered hat, at whose name the entire Bonoboville audience shakes its groggers (noisemakers) with glee.  Ah, the joys of hating a common enemy!  Hamen gets his revenge in the end, however, abducting a beautiful harem girl and having hot torrid sex with her well into the after-party, then suspending her from the Womb Room ceiling like the world’s prettiest piñata.

Haley Sweet: She’s that gorgeous harem girl/suspended piñata I just told you about who wows the after-party with her wild sex with Haman/Dark Phoenix.  She also shares some hamantaschen (Thank you, Cantor’s Deli!) with me, orally, and vaginally. Is it kosher to eat hamantaschen, the cookies named after the famous villain, out of a harem girl’s twat? Is it shaped like the twat itself, perhaps another symbol of female power (besides being Haman’s hat)?  Do we care? It feels good! And tastes good! And looks really good! Yummm!

Daryl Wright: Coming on strong like a Jewish James Brown, our beloved stand-up comedian Daryl Wright is hilarious as “Pimpin’ Cousin Mordecai”, the one who brokers the deal between his younger cousin Esther and King Ahasuerus, both in getting her the crown, and furthering a real world plan to keep the Jews alive. In the Purim story, as Haman falls, Mordecai rises. When Daryl, as Mordecai, is invited into the harem, perhaps to represent his heightened position in the King’s Court, he also rises. It’s well deserved, because all night, Daryl has to watch all the others easily “get some,” complaining that even “Haman got his nuts played with before he got killed!”

Brianna Brooks: Another sweet Ideal Image Management model, Brianna loves Twitter and is the first to shake her hot naked, impeccably groomed body in the “virgin” contest.  Her twinkling smile makes the king’s golden scepter glow, but his love for Esther is sort of preordained.

Heidi Hollywood: Yet another Ideal Image Management hottie (there are so many people from this wonderful, up-and-coming agency for this show, they might be one of Ahasuerus’ 127 provinces), Heidi plays one of the hot harem girls, really shaking that bellydancing scarf with her bodacious booty.

Victoria Veil and Jesse Flores: These two marvelous transwomen, both back for return engagements, play the royal “eunuchs,” who take care of the king as well as the harem girls.  Having had their genitalia removed or cut, the ancient eunuch is the precursor to the modern transsexual, although in the old case, it was painfully involuntary and quite abusive. Our transsexuals still have their junk, and they delight in playing and getting played with, taking part in the touching, flogging, and general Womb Room mayhem with all the other “straight” females and males.

Max Hardcore: Max may be an adult film legend, and free speech rights pioneer, but tonight Max just wants to rock out, and we hear his musical current running, just enough, all through the show this evening, via electric guitar and wild blonde wig that looks suspiciously like Amor Hilton’s actual hair.

WEAPONS OF MASS DISCUSSION

The Purim Story, One Billion Rising, The Bonobo Way

PERFORMANCE EROTICA

Eating Hamantaschen That Look Like Vulvas (Or Haman’s Hat), Drinking So Much We Can’t Tell the Good from the Bad, Stripping the Naughty Queen Naked & Flogging Her On The Cross for Refusing to Dance Naked Before Drunken Princes, Virgin Parade, Harem Girl Striptease, On and Off the Stripper Pole, Kissing the King’s Dildo Scepter, Sucking the King’s Dildo Scepter, Esther Goes From the King’s Scepter to the King’s Cock, Harem Girls Pleasing the King, Eunuchs Pleasing Haman, Riding the Royal Horse, Shaking A Booty Wrapped in Shining & Clinking Gold Jewelry, Haman being “Hung” from His Own Gallows, Sharing Hamantaschen Between Mouths, Moistening Powerdery Hamantaschen in a  Wet Vagina, Eating Hamantaschen out of a Harem Girl’s Vagina, Sticking Hamantaschen in a Pussy to Moisten Them, Footplay, Foot Massage, Spanking, Assplay, Slapping, Caressing, Screwing, Doggy-Style, Woman-On-Top, Trapeze, Suspension

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?

“A Show of Hands” on DrSusanBlock.Tv. Photo: Cavie

Length 1:38:24 Date: Mar. 5, 2016

Size Matters in Politics and in Sex

By Dr. Susan Block

It’s ironic, or perhaps it’s utterly fitting, that we kick off Women’s History (Herstory?) Month 2016 with an impassioned national conversation about male members.

Yes, the Grand Old Party’s mighty contenders have taken the U.S. presidential debate below the belt, contesting penis size or, more specifically, hand size, which is said to be correlated to penis size, though scientific studies of this anatomical urban legend say otherwise.

Whether or not such measurements are meaningful in matters of governance or one’s lover’s pleasure, the size of Donald Trump’s hands, and more specifically, the shortness of his fingers, have been a major topic of political discussion and media attention, shoving economic issues, perma-war, world affairs, environmental degradation, health care and poverty off the table with one firm slap. Call it a political “bitch slap,” if you will, but here we are, smarting.

Truth be told, if truth is ever told where a Trump is involved, Vanity Fair editor Graydon Carter first called the Republican frontrunner a “short-fingered vulgarian” in crafty old Spy Magazine over 20 years ago, apparently cracking Trumpty Dumpty’s eggshell ego, as ever since the remark was made, the disturbed billionaire has regularly sent Carter pictures of his expensively manicured digits encircled in gold Sharpie (rest assured, the Trump Organization executive office has a supply closet stacked with gold Sharpies) with captions like “See, not so short!”

“See, Not So Short!”… Is that a book between your legs or are you happy to see me? Photo: Ono Bo

Little Marco Attacks Trumpty’s Short-Cummings

The exhibitionist finger pix also makes the big Agent Orange-haired hulk fair game for all (not that he ever wasn’t). Last week, desperately trying to attract attention to his own limp and shriveling campaign, Marco Rubio, aka. “Little Marco” (so named by Mr. Short-Fingers) resurrected the meme and used it to attack Trump, the frontrunner you love to hate, the walking squawking poster boy for hypocrisy, greed and brutishness so loathed by Rubio supporters and other Old-Guard Establishment Repubs… even though the GOP has always been the party of hypocrisy, greed and brutishness, just not in such a vulgar short-fingered fashion.

Little Marco was practically drooling as he tossed his meme meat into the gaping maw of the gossip-hungry press: “He (Trump) is like 6’2,” squeaked Little Marco, “which is why I don’t understand why his hands are the size of someone who is 5’2. And you know what they say about men with small hands? You can’t trust them.”

Will this incisive political conclusion cause Trumpty Dumpty to fall off his wall… or at least get egg on his face? Or does it just reveal that Little Marco is a Size Queen?

Republican Sex Therapy

Because there’s something else “they say about men with small hands,” which Trumpty himself spelled out (almost) when he squealed like a smashed egg might, if a smashed egg could squeal. “He hit my hands! Nobody has ever hit my hands. I have never heard of this. Look at those hands. Are they small hands?” Trump practically cried big egg-yolky tears right there on the Motor City Fox Theatre stage.

Little Marco, Trumpty Dumphty & Creepy Ted show their hands in Bonoboville (Gonzo Bonobo, Dayton Rains, Dr. Suzy with Buck Angel glass dildo,, Pat Jankiewicz, Ono Bo. Photo: Cavie

Then with a mighty effort and a great showing of hands, Trumpty oratorically pushed aside the broken pieces of his shell, pulling his Confidence Man act out of the slimy fetal mess, to boast, “And he referred to my hands, if they are small, something else must be small. I guarantee you there is no problem. I guarantee.”

These “debates” are starting to sound like one of my sex therapy sessions.

Try Penis-Fencing, the Bonobo Way

But the proof is in the pudding or, in this case, the pants. So come on, boys—Trumpty Dumpty and Little Marco, Creepy Ted and the rest—quit talking with your hands (and out your ass), just whip out your weapons, and penis-fence already. You know you want to!

It’s what male bonobos do. And it’s actually not as silly—or “dirty”—as your so-called debates and certainly not as dangerous to the populace as your warmongering, your gun fetish, your military adoration and your romance with bigotry. In fact, the fine art of penis fencing is one reason why bonobos have never been seen killing each other in the wild or captivity. I call it The Bonobo Way of peace through pleasure.

America’s Self-Love Affair with Its Own Dicks

As a sex therapist, I’ve often thought about America’s self-love affair with its own dicks, especially since that ultimate American castration, the cutting down of the quintessentially phallic Twin Towers, Big Dick I and Big Dick II, epitomizing American humiliation in a fiery, fuming emasculation, shown ‘round the world to friends and enemies, over and over again. Maybe I’m just a little cock-crazy myself, because then in 2002, Bush’s threat to invade Iraq, coupled with Saddam’s boasting about the WMD he didn’t have, seemed to me to be just a big “Cockfight in the Baghdad Corral.”

Cockfight in the Baghdad Corrall

It’s too bad that those two political dickheads didn’t conduct a real cockfight (or better yet, penis-fencing) to solve their differences. Instead, Bush, on the advice of that other dangerous Donald (Rumsfeld), invaded Iraq with a “Bukkake Bombing Crusade” followed by the devastating Anglo-American “Rape of Iraq” from which the Cradle of Civilization still hasn’t recovered. No doubt, penis-fencing—or some form of bonoboësque resource-sharing diplomacy—would be far better for the 99% than all this perma-war. Make sperm wars, not real wars!

In any case, Trumpty’s junk is not going away. He probably won’t accept Larry Flynt’s offer to have his doctors examine it to determine if he’s as “big” a guy as his “guarantee” implies. Though we might look forward to Melania or one of the previous wives making some sort of playful endorsement of the teetering Trump Tower.

Is Bigger Always Better?

That being said, the question remains: Does size matter—in sex or politics? In terms of sex, there are studies that say that women feel penis size matters (such women usually prefer bigger guys for one-night-stands, while opting for smaller sizes for relationships), and then there are studies that say size doesn’t matter to most women. It certainly isn’t required to give a woman an Earth-shattering orgasm, as that usually takes external clitoral touch or perhaps G-spot stimulation. The G-spot being located about an inch or two inside on the roof of the vaginal cave, it is most easily reached with a clever crooked finger, not a big cock.

Dayton Rides the Giant. Photo: Cavie

Nevertheless, many people, most of whom are men, are obsessed with penis size as a *potent* symbol of manhood, in which case it does matter… a lot. And that could deeply and profoundly affect your sexuality, your politics, or just your sense of proportion… especially if you have no sense of humor.

For instance, it has been recently reported that in the land where Trump’s forebears went by the surname “Drumpf” (making him Trumpty Drumpfty?), a certain Adolf Hitler suffered from “a rare condition called penile hypospadias (a birth defect) in which the urethra opens on the underside of the penis.” Not only did hypospadias leave Der Führer with a “micropenis,” but it also caused him to urinate from a hole on the shaft as opposed to the tip. Did genital deformity contribute to Adolf’s genocidal rage and jack-booted fury? Seems likely. But a small or even a deformed penis alone does not Der Fuehrer make. Not every kid who gets bullied on the playground becomes a mass murderer. It’s a lot about attitude.

The attitude of Trumpty Drumpfty (said by ex-wife Ivana to have kept Hitler’s speeches by his bedside, with eerie similarities to his own, as pointed out by Bill Mahr)? Aside from his “Me first, and the hell with everybody else,” point of view, it’s the American credo of capitalism: bigger is better.

Aside from the size of our dicks (which are, internationally speaking, a little below average), in what ways are we bigger, and is it better? America still has the world’s biggest economy, though China is expected to surpass us soon. We also have the biggest Military-Industrial Complex, and the biggest Prison-Industrial Complex, with the most people in prison, many locked up for non-violent crimes. We have massive over-population and an obesity epidemic. These are some ways in which we are bigger. Is that better?

Sometimes, it’s better to be small.

PHOTOS: ONO BO

Big Hands, Buck Rogers, Foot Fetish & Chastity Bites for Women’s Month

Speaking of size, Patrick Jankiewicz, a gigantic World Trade Tower of a man, is our featured guest on this show. You were wondering when I was going to get around to talking about the show, weren’t you?

Standing 6’9”, Mr. Jankiewicz (rhymes with Weird Al Yankovic, who could be his cousin but isn’t) dwarfs the shrimpy 6’2” Donald. Though we don’t get to view his penis, we do see his hands and they are super-sized. His feet are the size of watermelons. Whole families of certain species could live on these feet, especially considering the state of his sneakers, which are titanic.

Chatting with Big Pat as Dayton licks my heels, incited by his foot fetish squeamishness in real life, though he plays a foot fetishist in Chastity Bites. Photo: Bambi Bonobo

Pat is an author/actor/comic/journalist from the great American Midwest, visiting Bonoboville for the first time courtesy of the congenial Joe Williamson. He’s the author of “Just When You Thought It was Safe: A Jaws Companion,” (which brings up the unmistakably penile proportions of sharks, especially in Jaws promos) “You Wouldn’t Like Me When I’m Angry: A Hulk Companion” (or a Trump companion?) plus his newest book, Buck Rogers in the 25th Century: A TV Companion, which we use for book–spankings. Pat has also appeared in such films and TV series as MTV’s “Death Valley,” “The Sarah Silverman Program” and “Fangoria’s Blood and Guts with Scott Ian.”

Troma films notwithstanding, I am generally not a horror fan. All that “blood and guts” makes me lose my popcorn. But I do appreciate the art, politics and subversive humor that often gets embedded into the horror genre—in part because, in our sex-negative society, horror is more acceptable than porn, or even nudity. After all, if a woman shows her breasts on film, that’s an R rating and if she makes love, that’s XXX, but if she’s simply murdered, blood and guts spraying, that’s totally PG.

Though I’ve only seen the trailer, I tip my Women’s History Month-conscious hat to Chastity Bites (written by a woman, the talented Lotti Parriss Knowles) for being delightfully pro-sex and female-empowering, a campy satire of sleazy abstinence-only high school programs that force or trick teens into “promising” to remain virgins until marriage. Interestingly, Pat plays a gardener with a foot fetish which, in real life, embarrasses the big guy, especially when the fabulous Dayton Rains—award-winning porn star, webcam and phone therapist with the Institute—and I play footsie as we chat.

Buck Rogers and The Bonobo Way with Selfie-Stick technology!

LA Laker Riots & Book-Spankings

Pat is an actor, and he acts the part of the big unsuspecting rube in Bonoboville and, in a way, he is. However, like a good journalist, he knows things about me that I’ve long forgotten, painting a vivid picture of himself watching the LA Laker Riots of 2000, and seeing my name on a banner by the Blue Line, lit up by a car on fire—an iconic LA moment. It took me a minute to remember hearing about this incident when Bonoboville was on Flower Street near the Staples Center but, this being before the Era of Youtube, no one sent me a link to the video that Pat apparently saw. Maybe now someone will!

Pat is slightly submissive—which is a good quality in a giant like him—getting down on the floor and saying “Yes, Ma’am” a lot. But he’s also a bit stubborn, such as when he insists on favoring mandrills over bonobos (maybe because male mandrills are twice the size of females which is, approximately, Pat’s proportion in relation to Dayton and me). By the end of the show, Pat is wisely conceding that bonobos are far more interesting than mandrills, and lumbering over Dayton’s knee as I spank him with The Bonobo Way. His only request: that I spank him with his Buck Rogers book too.

Bonoboville Communion with Green Blood of Agwa

First on this show to take Bonoboville Communion is Gonzo Bonobo in honor of his third anniversary as a citizen of Bonoboville. Gonzo licks it up in style from Dayton’s award-winning 32DDD altar, leaving the Altar Girl (now stripped down to nothing but her panties, subsequently donated to Panty Boy) asking for more.

PHOTOS 1 & 3: ONO BO.  PHOTO 2: MAX.  PHOTO 4: UNSCENE ABE

Pat was a Catholic altar boy, so he knows all about communion. Maybe he knows too much. When he drops down on his knees, it seems like he’s still standing up, so it’s a little difficult to get him into position. Here’s where size can be a distinct liability. Shy, he just gives a quick lick to the shoulder, but he enthusiastically “gets lei’ed” and leans back like a human landslide—almost burying tiny Dayton—to receive the bright green “blood” of Agwa Herbal Coca Leaf Liqueur that our Altar Girl manages to pour religiously down his throat. Lloyd Kaufman and the Class of Nuke ‘Em High would be proud. Though Dayton was just happen to survive the avalanche… and even invited the avalanche himself to her upcoming Bonoboville Birthday Bash next Saturday, March 19.

Small dogs love Big Guys, Little Guys & The Bonobo Way. Photo: Unscene Abe

Hedy Lamarr: Sexpot Genius

Size matters aside, I want to end this blog as I begin this show: with a real female-empowering Women’s History Month tribute to an amazing woman: the late great Hedy Lamarr (one of Capt’n Max’s favorites), the gorgeous sexy part-Jewish Austrian actress who starred in the 1933 movie Ecstasy where she had the first on-camera masturbatory orgasm. Though the film notoriously shows her swimming and running naked through fields, her famous “orgasm” only shows her ecstatically beautiful face. Then she went Hollywood, starring in many popular films, from Algiers to Samson and Delilah.

Brainy Beauty Hedi Lamarr runs her fingers through her hair.

But Hedy wasn’t *just* a hottie. This beauty had brains, remarkably co-inventing a groundbreaking radio guidance system for Allied torpedoes, using spread spectrum and frequency hopping technology to defeat the Axis powers’ attempts at jamming. The principles of Hedy’s invention are now incorporated into modern Wi-Fi and Bluetooth technology, leading to her induction into the National Inventors Hall of Fame in 2014.

So there you have her: One of the world’s sexiest women, who was an early porn star, also co-invented wireless technology. What a great inspiration for all brainy beauties celebrating Women’s History Month.

And with such nice little hands!

Click here for an abbreviated, photo-free version of this blog, “Size Matters in Politics and in Sex: Show Your Hand” picked up in “COUNTERPUNCH, “America’s Best Political Newsletter”

© March 6, 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 02:10:07 Date: September 30, 2017

by Dr. Susan Block

Wankers, spankers, filmmakers and pornstars gather together in the Womb Room Cathedral of the Church of Bonoboville to wind up Self-Love September, break the Yom Kippur fast (well, I was breaking the fast) and kick off  Kink Month with stimulating talk about masturbation education, a sensuous topless Bonoboville Communion and an orgasmic, remote-controlled ride on the Motorbunny.

Sticky in Bonoboville. Photo: Jux Lii

Wheee!

RIP Hef

Speaking of bunnies, we begin the live broadcast with a fond farewell to Hugh Hefner, king of the bunnies, playboy of Playboys, lover of lovely ladies, publisher of naughty pictures, sexual freedom fighter, Freedom of Speech defender and feminist. Yes, Hef has been criticized for his strict rules for his bunnies, right down to how they twitched tails; however people feel about the sexual and financial arrangements, they were all consensual. Unfortunately, Hef’s empire housed a few tragedies, like Bill Cosby’s infamous 1974 sexual assault, and the tragedy of Dorothy Stratten, a Playmate of the Year murdered by her own former husband and manager, Paul Snider. Hef did his best to leave an empowering legacy for women by supporting feminist causes, including funding court cases to challenge the states that outlawed birth control in the ’50 and ’60s. And didn’t Ms. Magazine founder and feminist spokeswoman Gloria Steinem get her start as a tell-all Playboy bunny? You bet your twitchy cottontail.

Not many realize that Hef was also a Civil Rights activist. The first Playboy clubs opened to all races back in 1960, when integration was rare. He had African-American activists and entertainers like Dick Gregory, Ella Fitzgerald and Sammy Davis Jr on stage and on his TV show, Playboy After Dark, and Hef personally donated to Martin Luther King and other Civil Rights causes. Playboy published many interviews conducted by the great Alex Haley, before he wrote Roots, including an interview with Dr. King that was the longest interview of his career.

Hef and Me at the old Hollywood Erotic Museum in 2004. Photo: Mary Withers

Not many know that Hef was also an early LGBTQ activist, publishing a pro-gay science fiction story called “The Crooked Man” in 1955. Hef had experimented with bisexuality during the ’60s. Though he stuck to being pretty much the ladies’ man himself, he was not only open-minded, he opened his wallet to gay causes.

Back in the sexual Dark Ages of the 1950s, Hugh Hefner’s erotic, romantic vision and relentless drive helped to change American society’s ideas about sex, opening the floodgates to the Sexual Revolution. It also affected women’s ideas about themselves and their bodies, for better and worse. Many gals developed eating disorders, comparing themselves—usually negatively—to the airbrushed perfection of Playmates. On the other hand, seeing such beautiful depictions of female sexuality liberated a lot of women from the idea that sexual expression and exhibitionism is bad or shameful.

With Hef and Bunnies at the Hollywood Erotic Museum. Photo: Ellis Martin

It’s interesting how many girls and women I’ve met over the years who grew up wanting to be one of Hef’s bunnies. Me? I grew up wanting to be Hef.

Of course, I am not Hef. There is and never will be another Hef. But he inspired me as he inspired many other women and men. And then, there was his place; a magical, sprawling, Tudor-style “adult Disneyland” called the Playboy Mansion.

Many places in reality and fantasy have inspired Bonoboville—from the gatherings of Epicurus to the legends of Shangri-La to real-life bonobo communities—and the world-famous, hedonistic Playboy Mansion in Holmby Hills is one of the top 10.

My Adventures at the Playboy Mansion

Years ago, when I was single and before I started throwing the best parties and shows of anyone I know (so why go anywhere else?), I used to go to parties and “movie nights” at Hef’s fabled Mansion. The thing I enjoyed most about these evenings was not the sex or the glamour—which were never quite what I expected—but the comfort, which surpassed my expectation. Hugh Hefner’s Playboy Mansion was a very comfortable place to hang out, especially for a single gal. It was classy without being stuffy (well, maybe just a little stuffy) with good food, great service, newly released films (in the days before Netflix), open bar, fun games, plush grounds, cute animals, nice restrooms, a great pool, and discreet but primo protection from assholic other guests by the helpful Mansion staff. All this, along with a smattering of A-list celebrities and plenty of up-and-coming as well as down-and-going B-listers, bevies of gorgeous women (a definite benefit to bi-chicks like me), and tons of appreciative men who all seemed to feel that if you, as a female, were there at the Mansion at all, even if you weren’t a Playmate or a Bunny, you must be pretty hot stuff.

Between Bunnies. Photo: Ellis Martin

I liked Hef. Not that I ever got to know him well. At the time, I was very shy and a little intimidated by all those tall, gorgeous Playmates. Moreover, when I first started visiting, Hef had just had a stroke, one of the reasons the parties were kind of low-key for a few years. But he always found the energy to stride around in his silk robe and pajamas, greeting and bantering with all his guests, from the A-listers to even us lowly, non-Playmate females. I loved the PJ’s; they combined sensuality, comfort, humor and great promotion for Playboy, all in one easy costume. Hef in his pajamas was one of the great inspirations for me to host my show in lingerie.

How Cuckolding Created Playboy

When I first started going to the Mansion, Hef was also pretty busy with one of his girlfriends, Carrie Leigh, a vivacious and tempestuous brunette. On one of her jaunts, Carrie cuckolded Hef with Screw Magazine Publisher Al Goldstein’s jeweler, whereupon the irate and disconsolate Playboy icon had her banned from the Mansion.

Hef’s battles with the horns of cuckoldry began when he was in the service and his first wife, Mildred, cheated on him. Mildred confessed her infidelity, devastating Hef and, in an apparent effort to save their marriage, she gave him permission to have sex with other women, leading to his “playboy” lifestyle. The marriage didn’t last, but Playboy took off. Indeed, you could say that the entire Playboy empire and Playboy philosophy was spawned as a response to being cuckolded.

A psychology buff, Hef was particularly intrigued by one of my consorts at the time I was visiting, the lovely, archly articulate pioneer radio psychologist Dr. Toni Grant (with whom I had the pleasure of writing Being A Woman, a NY Times bestseller based on Dr. Toni Wolfe’s four Jungian aspects of womanhood: the Amazon, the Mother, the Madonna and the Whore). The most exciting thing I ever heard going on at the Mansion was Toni having sex with Al Goldstein on the pool table in the Game Room. That was Toni: a Madonna in the Living Room, and a Whore in the Game Room. On the other hand, I don’t think Dr. Grant would have had sex on just any pool table. This was Hef’s pool table. It was special.

After Carrie cuckolded him, Hef fell for the more stable, blonde Playmate-of-the-Year Kimberly Conrad who married him and had two sons, Marsten and Cooper, with him, at which point the Mansion became a little too much like a regular—rather than an Adult—Disneyland for me. Also by this time, I was married which meant it wasn’t as easy for me to get in as when I was single.

Did Playboy exhibit women as sex objects? No doubt, it did. That sounds so sordid, but there can be power in objectification. Often, royalty and celebrities are objectified; these days so are politicians, who “model” our political desires just as Playmates model our erotic desires. In terms of being “exploited,” well, yes, but those Playmates made pretty good money considering the going rates for nude modeling, and some, like Jenny McCarthy, Kim Kardashian and Pamela Anderson, parlayed their Playboy appearances into extremely lucrative careers.

Hef and Marilyn at the old Hollywood Erotic Museum.

Playboy also featured Marilyn Monroe, Hef’s favorite female, even though he never actually met her. But being as she was his first nude centerfold and fellow icon, Hef seems to have felt closer to Marilyn than any of his wives or many girlfriends and, at a cost of $75 grand, he’ll be buried by her side in that little Westwood Cemetery where her ashes reside, just down the street from where we filmed most of our HBO shows. My middle name is Marilyn, chosen for me by my Dad, so I’ve always felt a deep connection to Monroe. Even though Dad himself wasn’t much of a Playboy, a part of him wanted his daughter to be a Marilyn. Mom planted the seeds for me to be more like Hef. So here I am, reflecting on the spirits of my sex-revolutionary ancestors.

Another one of my favorite Playboy centerfolds was Bettie Page, the “dark Marilyn,” whom I interviewed in ’96. For Bettie, who was mostly an underground star when she posed, Playboy was a break into the “big time.”

Goddess Soma gives me a Bettie Page painting by Jamie Roxx, aka Sissy Pesticide

Later in my life, when I established myself as a sex therapist, talk show host and (non-ghost-writing) author, I too was proud to work with Playboy, occasionally including my show Adult Stars Up Close on Playboy TV, in addition to many interviews on Playboy radio, as well as a Site of the Day Playboy award and a 1997 endorsement from Playboy magazine editors for The Dr. Susan Block Show as being “an excellent X-rated alternative to Leno, Letterman and Nightline,” pretty good for a bonobo like me.  

But back to Hugh Hefner and the bunnies. As has often been said, Hef is dead, but he couldn’t possibly have gone to a “better place” in heaven than he was in right here on Earth. He stayed true to his motto, “Life is too short to live someone else’s dream.” Hef lived Hef’s dream.

Part of that dream involved reveling in a bevy of “girlfriends,” his own Playboy-based version of sister-wife polyamory. Yet, Hef always seemed to be searching for his one true love. Sadly, I don’t think he ever found it. That’s why he’ll be buried next to Marilyn, the love he never met.

Maybe that means that there are limits to the Playboy lifestyle. Maybe Hef just never got over being cuckolded by Mildred, Carrie and who knows who else. Maybe no one woman could keep up with him, or maybe, especially as he got older and the women stayed young, he just couldn’t keep up with them. Maybe the Girl Next Door wasn’t really a Girl Next Door, but a Barbie doll far more breakable than a real woman.

And maybe monogamy isn’t for everybody, as the bonobos know. Not that you have to be monogamous with your one true love. You can be “monogamish,” like me and Capt’n Max. I’m grateful to have one true love in my life, my prime mate and favorite Playboy, who was also a nude centerfold (let’s hear it for male objectification!) for his own magazines, the LA Star, Love and Finger, which published photos and stories by real “girls next door,” aka everyday women. I’ll never forget when Capt’n Max first plopped a yachting cap on my head in the middle of one of my radio broadcasts back in 1991, making me feel like my own, new and improved version of Hugh Hefner.

Me as Happy Hef and Gypsy as Moody Marilyn. Photo: Jux Lii

And I’m grateful to have known Hef. His quirks and philosophies live on in me and millions more. But Hef the man is now ashes in a box next to Marilyn, and maybe it’s the “end of an era.” This point was driven home to me when I found out that the Playboy Mansion was purchased by the guy who owns Hostess Twinkies. From bunnies to twinkies. It’s kind of sad.

My farewell to Hef is also pretty sad, though also celebratory. Hey, the guy made it to 91, almost as old as one of my other friends and mentors, Col. Jirayr H. Zorthian, which is a pretty good endorsement of the health benefits of hedonism. In Hef’s memory, I wear a yachting cap and robe, while Gypsy Bonobo dolls herself up as Marilyn Monroe.

PHOTOS 2 & 3: CLEMMY

Of course, the main unspoken use for Hef’s magazine was as a visual aphrodisiac for self-pleasure. People might say that they enjoyed Playboy “for the articles,” which happen to have been extremely well-written and progressive. But there’s little doubt that the lush photo spreads of nude, gorgeous, available-looking women were the driving “sell” of the magazine, the pages of which would often become very sticky…

“Sticky: A Self-Love Story”

Which brings me (finally!) to my featured guests, the charming producers of “Sticky: A Self-Love Story” a documentary film about masturbation (see it on Amazon). I met Sticky’s producer/director Nicholas Tana and producing partner Denise Acosta at David Bertolino’s Golden Age of Adult Cinema. Almost immediately, we realized we had something in common: wanking.

Actually, it’s something everyone has in common, but Nicholas, Denise and I like to talk about it.

Stuck between Sticky Producers Densie Acosta and Nicholas Tana, will “Billdo,” the Bill Clinton dildo crawling up my thigh. Photo: Jux Lii

And talk about it we do. It’s interesting how the two masturbation-related news events that triggered Nicholas’ drive to make a film about this taboo but very common subject (“masturbation touches us all,” says Nicholas) also affected Max and me. The first was Paul “Pee-Wee Herman” Reubens being arrested for “public masturbation” in a Florida adult theater sting operation in 1991, and then shamed and excoriated by the media. I remember dedicating my radio show to Pee-Wee’s defense, masturbating to orgasm live on the air, which the LA Reader described as “a total airwave meltdown,” moaning and coming into my mic without uttering a single FCC-forbidden “dirty” word.

News event number two was the firing of U.S. Surgeon General Dr. Joycelyn Elders who appears in Sticky, defending her sensible yet somehow shocking statement that masturbation ought to be taught in public schools as a safer sex option.

Another event that triggered Nicholas was more personal. When he was about ten years old, he admitted to his friends that he masturbated, as he assumed they did too. To his abject mortification, they laughed at him and kept their “shame campaign” going for some time, making him wonder: How could something so good be so bad?

Denise got involved in the project because, well, Nicholas asked her to, though at first, she felt the whole subject was a bit creepy. Then as she learned about the psychology and history of masturbation, its practice and repression, she warmed up to it. Now traveling the world to promote “Sticky,” also showing in colleges, she’s become something of a masturbation mouthpiece (pun intended).

Veronica Valentine & Sailor Luna

The few people on Earth who claim they “never masturbate” notwithstanding, it’s something to which we can all relate. My other two featured guests, raven-haired teen porn starlet Veronica Valentine, just featured in my “Bonobo Way of Great Sex” talk at Adultcon (blog and photos coming soon!) and her blonde, pig-tailed and bespectacled “porn person” friend from North Dakota, Sailor Luna, chime in on the subject.

Veronica Valetntine and Sailor Luna on DrSuzy.Tv  Photo: Jux Lii

As webcam gals, Veronica and Sailor are also the “sex objects” of many a webcam voyeur’s masturbation fantasy. Nineteen and twenty respectively, they’re just testing the waters of their sexual power and pleasure, as well as teaching us dotards (see below) about Millennial Sex..

From Playboy Bunny to the Motorbunny

After all that hot talk, it’s time for a little refreshment, starting with that potassium-rich Specialty-of-the-House of Bonoboville: bananas.

Veronica and Sailor take the Bonobo Banana Challenge. Photo: Jux Lii

Veronica and Sailor are first up at bat… or banana.

PHOTOS: JUX LII

Then Nicholas and Gypsy take the double-dong banana-sucking challenge with as much panache as the porn stars.

Deep-Throat Banana. Photo: Jux Lii

Nick even takes off his shirt for the job, though he winds up eating his end, mid-swallow, proving there is more than one way to suck a banana.

Then Veronica rides the Motorbunny for the second time (for her first, see “Sexpot Sister Resisters”). This neatly combines our twin themes of masturbation with bunnies.

We also test-drive the new Motorbunny remote control with Clemmy’s iPhone, which works rather well, as long as the screen isn’t too slippery, and your fingers aren’t too… sticky.

Dry-fingered and nimble, Clemmy operates the Motorbunny remote controls as Ikkor the Wolf whispers dirty talk into Veronica’s ear and, per her request, chokes her lightly (don’t try this at home, unless you take a good sex educational course in how to do it safely) until she comes in orgasmic ecstasy.

It takes a Village to operate the remote control Motorbunny. Photo: Jux Lii

Usually “masturbation” means “solo sex,” but in this case, it’s a group effort. There are so many, many ways to “polish the pearl.”

Bonoboville Communion

Next on the agenda, Bonoboville Communion. Marilyn Gypsy Bonobo Monroe takes hers with gusto from Altar girl Veronica’s lovely natural boobs.

Gypsy takes Communion from Veronica’s Altar. Photo: Jux Lii

Then she receives her Waterboarding with Agwa, Bonobo-Style, like a beauty in the Valley of the Dolls.

PHOTOS 1 & 3: CLEMMY.  PHOTO 2: JUX LII

The two of them make quite the gorgeous topless tableaux, hotter than a Playboy centerfold.

Then it’s Team Sticky’s turn. Though Nicholas was raised Italian Catholic, he was never an Altar Boy and barely remembers taking communion. But he serves well as a Bonoboville Communion Altar Boy. His lovely Communer Denise chooses to lick sacred salt from his whiskered chin, a first in Bonoboville Communion history, giving new meaning to the “salt and pepper” beard.

Sticky Waterboarding. Photo: Clemmy Cockatoo

Aaliyah Corsets Squirts

Suddenly who bursts into the Womb Room but one of my Prodigal Daughters returned, the vivacious Aaliyah Corsets, wielding a white Jux Leather flogger, accompanied by a bevy of beautiful girlfriends to rival Hef’s.

Aaliyah makes her entrance. Photo: Clemmy Cockatoo

Then Aaliyah proceeds to tell the story of how, with the help of the Dr. Susan Block Institute, she experienced her first female ejaculation. It’s true; a few months back, she told me she really wanted to experience the pleasure and power of squirting, how she had tried and tried, but never succeeded in getting out more than a tiny trickle. I told her the “secret” to female ejaculation is to relax and breathe deeply into your pelvis as you squeeze and release your PC muscles, pushing out gently but firmly as you release. A few days later, while in a threesome, Aaliyah followed my instructions and lo and behold, like a Holy Water Miracle, soon she was squirting clear across the bedroom.

Aaliyah tells her Squirting Success Story. Photo: Jux Lii

Another Bonoboville success story. We’re not the Playboy Mansion (and I do wish we had their old Grotto). But in terms of women’s pleasure, we’re a lot better.

From Folk to Rap in Bonoboville

For our first musical interlude, shirtless Nicholas pulls out his guitar and strums his folksy Sticky theme song (Jacquie Blu holding up his lyrics), featuring more terms for masturbation than an Urban Dictionary listicle.

Then Ikkor steps up to the stage and, at my request, strips out of his sweater, #Bonoboville shirt and undershirt, and the Womb Room gasps and titters with a little good, wholesome, male objectification.

ikkor the Wolf gets these bunnies hopping with “She Bad.” Photo: Jux Lii

Thus freed from his shirts, our favorite rapper belts out a rousing rendition of “She Bad” as all of my guests, plus Aaliyah’s gal pal posse, rock out, releasing our inner bonobos and bunnies.

PHOTOS1 & 3: CLEMMY. PHOTO 2: JUXLII

Whee!

Punishing Dotard Trump

Back to bunnies, and other less adorable creatures. In a way, Hef and Trump are two of a kind, and in other, more important ways, they are each other’s opposites. Both Hef and Trump like leggy, model-slim but busty young women who aren’t the Girl Next Door at all, more like the upscale model uptown. Other than that, Hef was a gentleman and a progressive. Trump is a self-confessed “pussy-grabber,” and in the immortal words of Kim Jong Un, a Dotard.

Goddess Soma Snakeoil arrives just in time to help me give tRUMP a Bonobo Way book-spanking for totally mishandling Puerto Rico. Photo: Jux Lii

When I first saw that Un called Trump a “mentally deranged U.S. dotard,” I assumed it was a typo perhaps meant to be that old-fashioned slur, “retard.” But no, it’s a real word, an archaic term for a feeble-minded old man, and a rather telling assessment of this unpresidented President who, when one is being charitable, could seem a bit senile, especially to a youngster like Un.

Though this past week (like every week), tRUMP has gone far beyond dotardly into dastardly. Calling on NFL owners to fire players who kneel during the National Anthem, as though he’s telling plantation owners to whip uppity slaves, is bad enough. But tweeting this racist vitriol just after Hurricane Maria virtually destroyed the beautiful Island of Enchantment, where Max and I spent so many beautiful moments in 2016, in San Juan and in Mayaguez, is beyond the pale. Then the awful Orangutan (with sincere apologies to real orangutans who are actually rather wonderful apes) in the White House managed to make a bad situation much worse, through tweets and actions, treating American citizens on the island of Puerto Rico, languishing without electricity or water, like literal second class citizen, not to mention denigrating the beautiful brave Mayor Carmen Cruz of San Juan.

Some think that Trump doesn’t know Puerto Rico is an American territory, but he’s more dastard than dotard on this point. He knows. He ran a golf course there that defaulted in 2011, leaving Puerto Rican taxpayers on the hook for $32.7 million.

For my Trumpocalypse therapy, I give our Trump surrogate a hard Bonobo Way book-spanking, but it’s difficult to channel all the rage I feel over this particular Trumposity.

PHOTOS 1 & 2: JUX LII. PHOTO3l SELFIE

In part, fasting on Yom Kippur all Saturday reminded me that people—our friends and fellow American citizens—are starving in Puerto Rico, as Trump tweets, golfs and wolfs down overcooked flesh at his New Jersey golf club.

Goddess Soma Makes an Entrance

Just as we wind up the show, who sweeps into the Womb Room with all the grandeur of BDSM royalty but the great Goddess Soma Snakeoil Herself, decked out in black latex and blue hair with Her busty submissive galpal Antoinette.

Goddess Soma whips up some magic on Antoinette. Photo: Jux Lii

I’ve known Soma since 2009 when she wowed the crowd at our Downtown Speakeasy in a bondage party we threw for our old friend, Master D. Her presence is enough of a present, but She also comes bearing a gift, a beautiful painting of Bettie Page by Jamie Roxx, aka Sissy Pesticide.

Then the Goddess proceeds to dominate three different ladies, Antoinette, Jacquie Blu and Aaliyah Corsets, on the Bondage Cross, each in a different way.

It’s a beautiful sight to behold, a real BDSM ballet. I’m inspired to take Communion from Antoinette.

We say farewell to our new Sticky friends, Nick and Denise, now off to Vietnam to try to make up for America’s legacy of truly shameful destruction in that fair country, as ambassadors of peace through pleasure. I give them a Bonobo Way to read on the plane.

Sticky at the Bar. Photo: Jux Lii

Then it’s time for the Captain and me to ascend the stairs of Bonoboville Mansion and get a little sticky ourselves.

Playboy and Girl. Photo: Selfie

Happy Kink Month, Brothers & Sinners, Lovers & Sinners!

Thanks to Our Volunteers: Videographers: Michael Sullivan; Khristian Abasolo; Photographers – Jux Lii; On-Campus Bonobos – Abe Perez, Camille Rosebud, Del Rey, Gypsy Bonobo, Harry Sapien, Jacquie Blu, MarsFX, Clemmy Cockatoo, Ana & Miguel. 

P.S. Just got news of the horrific mass murder on the Vegas Strip, the worst mass shooting in U.S. history. Will we ever stop the violence? Will we learn to follow the Bonobo Way of peace through pleasure before it’s too late? #StoptheViolence

© October 1, 2017. Susan Block, Ph.D., a.k.a. “Dr. Suzy,” is a world renowned LA sex therapist, author of The Bonobo Way: The Evolution of Peace through Pleasure and horny housewife, occasionally seen on HBO and other channels. For speaking engagements, call 310-568-0066.

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 01:25:26  Date: June 19, 2021

by Dr. Susan Block. 

It’s Midsummer, and once again, there’s a lot to celebrate on board our little Love Train: Juneteenth, Summer Solstice, Father’s Day, Pride Month and I’m probably forgetting some festival or other.

My damn birthday is over, thank Goddess, so now I can stop aging for another year. Isn’t that how it works?

Some of these June-blooming holy-days are more controversial than others, as we discover, rather disturbingly, on this show…

A Midsummer Night’s (Wet) Dream

Probably the least contentious of the mid-June festivities is the Summer Solstice. Who doesn’t love teeny bikinis, sex on the beach, Mai Tais by the pool and a June Honey Moon?

Summer Solstice, aka Midsummer, is a deeply pagan holiday, as all the best holidays are (Valentine’s Day, Easter, Xmas, etc.), at least originally. The difference is that the Church never plunked a big old pious, party-pooping Christian observance down on top of Summer Solstice—maybe because of the heat and all those Mai Tais.

Though it’s more of a Midsummer tradition to drink mead made of fermented honey during the many weddings held around Summer Solstice. In the past, we’ve had amazing Solstice Bacchanals and Commedia Erotica performances of “A Midsummer Night’s Wet Dream,” parodies of Shakespeare’s classic comedy, the wettest of which features some world-class squirting.

There’s not much Judeo-Christian ideology to Summer Solstice, and even the biggest nutjobs don’t question its shining status as it’s clearly the longest day of the 365, when the sun is directly above the Tropic of Cancer and the northern hemisphere of Earth basks in the most sunlight of the year… unless it’s cloudy.

No clouds this Solstice! I remember when midsummer in LA featured weeks of foggy “June Gloom” that cooled us off a bit between a sunny May and a sweltering July. But the slightly chilly “gloom” of June only lasted a few days this year. Global Warming is really warming up!

For better and worse (mostly worse), human life is becoming more and more virtual, and no, it’s not a conspiracy of liberals or conservatives. It’s the result of rampant capitalism, corporations and billionaires destroying our environment, making war on each other as well as our Mother, the Earth, and acting like ammosexual baboons instead of following the Bonobo Way.

Oops, did I say Summer Solstice wasn’t controversial? Maybe everything is these days…

Moreover, that 2019 film Midsommar is ridiculously creepy. The previews were enough to give summer nightmares to this June baby.

Every Midsummer, for thousands of years, Druids, pagans and tourists have gathered at Stonehenge to watch the sunrise align with the ancient stones, but not last year, and not this year. We’re still moving through the Coronapocalypse, after all, and though many venues are opening up, Stonehenge is closed.  Of course, the Stonehenge Summer Solstice 2021 is taking place for the second time online, so we can all see it from the comfort of our phones.

For better and worse (mostly worse), human life is becoming more and more virtual, and no, it’s not a conspiracy of liberals or conservatives. It’s the result of rampant capitalism, corporations and billionaires destroying our environment, making war on each other as well as our Mother, the Earth, and acting like ammosexual baboons instead of following the Bonobo Way.

But it’s summertime again… so let’s have a (masked and physical-distanced) Bonobo Summer of Love to counteract all the hate that’s growing like toxic killer weeds in our Garden of Earthly Delights.

We’ve already got the pool!

A Heated & Much Needed Juneteenth

We turn up the heat politically on the Love Train as we honor the 156th anniversary of Juneteenth, also known as Freedom Day, Emancipation Day or Independence Day. We’ve actually been celebrating Juneteenth for a couple decades, but it’s now an official U.S. holiday marking the date June 19th in 1865 when Union soldiers finally arrived in Galveston, Texas, bringing news that the dreadful institution of slavery had been abolished more than two years earlier.

Yes, Abraham Lincoln delivered the Emancipation Proclamation in order to outlaw slavery in 1862, but there was no Twitter or even IG back then, so it took until June 19th, 1865, for that news to reach Texas (Toad Cruz’ ancestors were probably running Texas back then and just didn’t want to give up the free labor). When Federal troops finally arrived and freed 250,000 human beings from the appalling all-American institution of slavery, and those newly unchained Lone Star state slaves began to stretch their unshackled legs and celebrate their freedom, Juneteenth was born.

Here in Bonoboville, we’ve been celebrating Juneteenth since we first heard about it in 2000 during the Democratic Convention when a group of political kinksters from Al Gore’s presidential campaign visited our art show, “Democratic Sex,” and wound up spanking each other (but that’s another story). When they told me about Juneteenth, I felt it was momentous enough to be a national holiday and wondered why I’d never learned about it in school.

There are crazed foaming-at-the-mouth White Supremacists out there who appear to wish this country had never freed its slaves. For them, Juneteenth represents not freedom, but loss of income and status.

The next Juneteenth, we celebrated with a kinky reenactment of the liberation of the slaves—naked and sexy, of course—from our bondage crosses.  I don’t know if I’d do it that way now, but it was fun foreplay to a Bonoboville Juneteenth Bacchanal and a great show featuring amazing couple and “urban erotica” pioneers Alexander and Diana Devoe.

In 2020, Black Lives Matter protests boosted Juneteenth 2020 to make it the biggest Juneteenth ever, a huge Oakland gathering graced by the brilliant, beautiful, radical intellectual Angela Davis who has inspired me since I was a teenage Marxist.

I suddenly realize, right on this Love Train, that Juneteenth sounds like my birthday, June 10th, and could be another subconscious reason I’ve always felt a personal connection to it.

Well, now everyone’s celebrating Juneteenth except Candace Owen.

Oh, and a few of our Youtube listeners not only decline to celebrate the *new* holiday, but viciously curse us out for it, using the “N-word” (with different spellings to avoid the censor bots) and other impotent offenses.

It’s unnerving, but it reminds us here in our little leftist bonoboësque bubble, that there are crazed foaming-at-the-mouth White Supremacists out there who appear to wish this country had never freed its slaves.

For them, Juneteenth represents not freedom, but loss of income and status. Perhaps, if our society was a little more cooperative, socialist, sex-positive and truly egalitarian, they wouldn’t feel so hostile. That’s the goal!

But in the meantime, these folks are raging like big bawling babies. Except these are armed and dangerous big bawling babies.

Slight detour here: Not all ammosexuals are bigots. In our Twitter adventures this week, Capt’n Max and I ran into a gang of LGBTQ gun nuts. Listen above or below for the story of our weird Queer Ammosexual Firefight, and how Jim Jeffries saved the day…

Ammosexuals are everywhere! At times like this, I appreciate the virtual nature of my relationship with some of my listeners and social media sparring partners.

Adriana calls in to talk about her experience growing up in North Carolina while hearing bits and bits of enticing Juneteenth lore from the African-American side of her family in Georgia, then learning more details from her friends in college, and seeing the recent movie, Miss Juneteenth, that explores the pageantry and emotions of the annual Texas beauty contest. It’s a character drama, but with all those Juneteenth beauties getting dressed and undressed, it can’t help but also be erotic… at least to a sex maniac like me.

Excited to expand her understanding of Juneteenth, Adriana is also wary of the backlash that’s already occurring in schools and legislatures, as well as these N-word spouting trolls heckling the comments section of F.D.R.

Will America ever be healed of the wounds of colonialism and slavery?

Steps like making Juneteenth a national holiday are a leap in the right direction, though our N-word spouting trolls remind us that not all Americans are celebrating.

Freemasons & “The Jewish Question”

One of our trolls inquires, “What about the Jewish Question?”

Almost as offensive as spouting the N-word, the “Jewish Question” has been asked for millennia by anti-Semites who are scouting for an answer that excuses their robbing, mocking, murdering and annihilating these strange folks who don’t worship Jesus, some of whom have managed to make an awful lot of money (looking at you, Mark Zuckerberg). The Christian “answer” has been to isolate Jews in ghettos or shtetls, prevent them from working in any capacity but money-lending (inadvertently spawning some of the great Jewish banking families like the Rothschilds and eventually Goldman Sachs), spread crazy lies like that Jews make Passover Matzah with the blood of Christian children (like combining QAnon’s “Save the Children” hysteria with Margarine Taylor Greene’s “Jewish Space Lasers”), and slaughter whole villages in pogroms.

This Matzah contains no Blood, Semen or Space Laser Juice! Photo: Jux Lii

You may be familiar with a certain Fuehrer’s answer to the “Jewish Question,” the infamous “Final Solution.” This involved working to death all Jews (as well as a considerable number of Gypsies, LGBTQ people, Catholics and Communists) in concentration camps, and if they didn’t work fast enough, exterminating them in gas chambers or before firing squads. And oh yeah, taking all their money, even down to the gold fillings in their teeth.

What inspired Hitler’s horrific Final Solution? The good old U.S. of A.

America’s history of slavery and Jim Crow laws provided a blueprint for Nazi atrocities, another reason I, as a Jew, celebrate Juneteenth. 

Unfortunately, European antisemitism led directly to the founding of the “state” of Israel as a colonial apartheid project, now a virtual satellite of the American Military-Industrial Complex.  

Free Palestine!

This sparks an intense discussion about the Freemasons who, throughout history, have been considered both Jewish-controlled and anti-Semitic. This train doesn’t tunnel too deep into the Freemasonry Tunnel, but it’s funny how many comments pop up when I mention it.

A few tidbits: America was founded by Freemasons, including George Washington, Benjamin Franklin, Paul Revere, John Hancock and many more. Our man who freed America’s slaves, Abraham Lincoln, though not proven to be a Freemason, expressed great affection for the mysterious fraternal organization and its philosophy many times.

Much of what I talk about in this section of the show I learned listening to the first part of a fascinating Freemason series by Robbie Martin (who interviewed me for Media Roots, and I interviewed his sister, the amazing Abbie Martin). Interestingly, Capt’n Max‘s own father, Prince Peter Francis Leblovic von Lobkowicz, was such an active Freemason, he wrote a book about it.

Max’s Dad: Pr. Peter Francis Leblovic von Lobkowicz

Speaking of which, Happy Father’s Day, Pr. Peter in Heaven, or maybe in that other place. The history of Freemasonry is, after all, laced with the miraculous and the demonic. And that includes the history of the United States.

Kinkster Candidate Zack Weiner

Yes, it’s also Father’s Day weekend, so before our show, I stop in on the Clubhouse gathering of my favorite D.A.D., aka Dominatrices Against Donald (tRump) ringleader and world-class Mistress Tara Indiana, “Ask a Dominatrix Anything.”

Among other topics, we talk about how last week, Zack Weiner, a twenty-something political longshot running for Manhattan City Council was caught on tape wearing a ball gag, blindfold, clothespins on his nipples and not much else.

Apparently taken at Midtown’s Parthenon Studios, which the NY Post praises (somewhat oddly, but rather nicely) as a “high quality” dungeon, Mr. Weiner appears to be submitting to a leather-clad FemDom pouring hot wax on his bare chest at rather close range (ouch!).

Such a potentially scandalous revelation might have trampled the political prospects of a lesser kinkster… or at least tied them up in knots.

But Zack, despite or maybe because he’s a “Weiner,” stiffened his resolve (sorry; the puns write themselves) and let his kink flag fly. Indeed, his response to being exposed was as swift and on-target as a Domina’s whip flicking his upturned buttocks.

“Whoops. I didn’t want anyone to see that, but here we are. I am not ashamed of the private video circulating of me on Twitter. This was a recreational activity that I did with my friend at the time, for fun. Like many young people, I have grown into a world where some of our most private moments have been documented online. While a few loud voices on Twitter might chastise me for the video, most people see the video for what it is: a distraction. I trust that voters will choose a city council representative based on their policies and their ability to best serve the community.”

Kink and sex in general can be a leaky business, so one should always be prepared to either plug that leak or go with the flow.

Any kinkster in politics should study Zack’s message, and perhaps start crafting something comparable just in case they are ever outed.

Of course, nonconsensual outing is almost always unethical. Exceptions might include cases in which the politician is such an egregious hypocrite, one who consistently votes and speaks out against the very kink(s) they enjoy in secret, causing harm to their fellow kinksters. Even then, outing is against the unwritten sex worker code of honor. We affirm this while discussing Zack’s case this past week on our F.D.R. (Fuck Da Rich) broadcast, in Twitter powwows and “Ask a Dominatrix Anything” with my favorite D.A.D., aka Dominatrices Against Donald (tRump) ringleader Mistress Tara Indiana and other DomCon Dommes. At my Institute, we carefully guard all of our clients’ privacy and anonymity, even the hypocritical ones. Fortunately, we’ve never had a “leak” in over thirty years of practicing sex therapy. But not every therapist, sex worker or “friend” is so trustworthy or lucky, and accidents happen.

Kink and sex in general can be a leaky business, so one should always be prepared to either plug that leak or go with the flow.

With all the outing, security cam footage and revenge porn flowing like rivers of revelation, Capt’n Max opines: “You should all be defending him because you’re next.” You can run but you can’t hide, especially if you’re in the spotlight.

Weiner chose to face the flogger—and the music (Master and Servant? The Kinkster? Masochism Tango?), telling the The NY Post “I am a proud BDSMer. I like BDSM activity.”

The implication being: So, what?

The NYP tried its tabloid-y best to make this personal sexual revelation into a salacious outrage, but simply couldn’t. That in and of itself is a victory for consensual kink, honesty, sex-positivity and the Bonobo Way.

Erotica writer Aubrey Andrews tweeted aptly, “Will Zack Weiner being with a dominatrix on his personal time affect his job performance as a Manhattan City Council? No? Then this is just kink-shaming.”

Not that the video appears to have effectively shamed Zack or his campaign.  Artsy Manhattanites, Soho Sexpots, Hellfire Clubbers, Bob Flanagan buffs, Gen Z’ers babysat by Rihanna’s S&M (“sticks and stones may break my bones, but chains and whips excite me”), Wolves of Wall Street and Slaves of New York aren’t going to be phased by a little consensual kink. Though Mistress Tara—who used to run another “high quality” Midtown dungeon called the Den of Iniquity—did chuckle about the clothespins being “old-school.”

If anything, Weiner’s outing has increased awareness of a candidate hardly anyone had heard of before. It’s also a pretty good example of the kind of honesty, clarity, concern for consent and lack of sexual shame that the modern kink community generally tries to uphold.

Zack is still a longshot (though winners haven’t been called, as of this writing, he’s in last place), but the future is promising. As ZTV tweets, “Anyone with the strength of character to deal with clothespins on his nipples for more than a few seconds, let alone SEVERAL minutes, ABSOLUTELY has the resolve to be on #NYCcitycouncil.”

Whether or not that’s true, none of us know much about Zack’s politics. However, thanks to his recent *exposure,* we now know that, in response to the Red Umbrella Project’s question, “where do you stand on sex work as a policy issue?” Zack was willing to tweet that sex work “decriminalization is good for workers, for safety, and definitely for the economy.” Amen and Awomen to that! A politician this honest about sex might be honest about other things as well…

But do we know how honest Zack really is? Some skeptics claim that this whole Weiner Outing was really a Weiner Leak (wiener leak?).  

No seriously, the punning skeptics say, Team Weiner leaked the video themselves, like Kim Kardashian’s sex tape, to boost his visibility.

It’s certainly possible; the kinkster candidate’s background in screenwriting and acting, as well as urban planning, could imply more Hollywood-style creativity than most politicians.  Obviously, if that’s the case, Zack’s quick response—not to mention his trustworthiness—would not be so impressive. However, his kink-positivity still would be.

Furthermore, on a scale of 1-10—in which 10 is rawdog cheating on your wife (who just gave birth to your son) with Stormy Daniels, then paying her hush money from your political campaign and lying about it—I’d say releasing your own consenting adult hot-wax video would be a 2.

By the way, there is (as of this writing) no proof that Weiner leaked his own kink tape, and the accusations could just be the political fantasies of jealous cuckolds and erotophobic interns.

Leaky or quick, it’s likely that Zack was inspired to be so open and seemingly forthright about his kink by Hollywood itself. He probably wouldn’t be taken in by 50 Shades of Holy Crap, but might well be influenced by the sensational Paul Giamatti confession scene, “I am a Masochist,” in Billions.  The idea of a powerful man in politics turning the tables (temporarily) by submitting to a Dominatrix has become so commonplace, it’s practically a cliché, though it’s still taboo and potentially shaming.

Yet, the FemDom bonobos show us that surrendering to female power (for real; not just in fantasy scenarios) is just as natural for apes like us as bowing to male brute force. Not to mention it’s usually healthier for all concerned… unless your FemDom is Margaret Thatcher.

It can also be educational. A sex worker I know makes her subbies recite Marx as she spanks them.

Then again, maybe Zack’s kink is more personally connected to another TV series, “Dora The Explorer” the bilingual female-dominant kiddie show, that happens to have been co-created by his Dad, Eric Weiner. Zack is just a different kind of “explorer” (which is a lot less destructive than Columbus, Cortez and all those “intrepid” explorers who turned out to be vicious, mass murdering, real-life enslavers), an erotic explorer.

Just to set these hot dogs straight, Zack Weiner is not Anthony Weiner, an older New York Democratic politician who got caught sexting snaps of his underwear-straining wiener, plus more nefarious things like cheating with a teenager and camming while his baby was sleeping on a far corner of the bed (what the hell was he thinking?).

In fact, young Zack could restore our faith in Weiners—and maybe wieners, as well, just in time for BBQ season “wiener outings.”

Seriously, too many political dick-brains, corporate cuckolds and celebrity kinksters—Roger Stone, Paul Manafort, Lady G, Matt Gaetz, Bill Gates, Armie Hammer and the list goes on—have not been stellar spokesmodels for the kink community. Indeed, they have made rotten old stereotypes smell like used Bambinos.

Now that he’s been outed, hopefully Zack will continue to be an openly kinky politician that kinksters and sex workers can depend on for support.

Can Weiner serve his constituents and the greater human community with the same fervor that he serves his Mistress? Or will a desire for big donor money shots tie him up in political knots?

Happy Almost-Wiener Day!

Read “The Kinkster Candidate” on Counterpunch

Juneteenth Speakeasy Recovery

Our post-show throwback features a great Juneteenth celebration in 2018 with deep sapiosexual and political discussions, music, boobilicious Bonoboville Communion, Waterboarding, Bonobo-Style and orgiastic partying with Ikkor the Wolf, Frankito and Tahyira, and Mimosa and Phoenix Dawn.

Hallelujah! Frankie survives Waterboarding, the Bonobo Way on Juneteenth! Photo: Slick Rick

Ikkor, Frank and Tahyira even sing a few bars of a Juneteenth song.

We also call for liberation from modern slavery, aka the bloated American Prison Industrial-System and the creeping chokehold that the .01% is putting on the rest of us.

Frankito confesses his passionate love for Kanye West. Sorry “bromance” fans, it’s just the music… but what about Kanye’s politics, his statement that “slavery was a choice” (what would that make Juneteenth?) and his passionate support for the Trumpus?

Of course, slavery in the old Confederate sense–or any sense – that’s not a consensual adult roleplay–is one of the worst things that humans can do to other humans, right down there with concentration camps, mass shootings and genocide. No matter how great Kanye’s beats are, we need to keep hammering this point home—American Confederate slavery was not a “choice”—at least not for the slaves; it certainly was a choice for the damn owners and overseers.

Slavery, imprisonment and censorship just make *good* capitalist sense… for the owners. Not for the rest of us.

Now consensual bondage, whipping and spanking can be fun when individuals enjoy them out of freedom of choice. There are even African American Dommes who specialize in beating the racism out of white submissives, mentally and/or physically. A lot of white people are turned on by the idea of being slaves (for an hour or two) to black people; it’s a fetish. Of course, it’s *just* play, albeit edgy play, but nothing like real slavery. At least, it shouldn’t be.

But there are modern forms of real slavery that are totally without choice. And I’m not talking about “trafficking,” which is a form of very illegal and rather rare modern slavery, and the paranoia about it creates horrible laws like SESTA/FOSTA and SISEA, “cures” that are far worse than the “disease.”

But there’s another type of “new slavery” that can be almost as bad, and sometimes, for some people, it’s worse than the old slavery, and that’s the Prison-Industrial Complex, one of America’s few growth industries, growing at the expense of many innocent people’s freedom.

When we talk about Capt’n Max being unjustly imprisoned for publishing, Frank makes a heartfelt confession, that he too had been incarcerated in that awful ugly prison system. No, we don’t ask “what for,” and yes, it is a modern form of slavery that disproportionately targets people of color.

So we commiserate, and then we celebrate Frankie’s freedom too, the fact that he met Tahyira shortly after he got out (like I met Capt’n Max who Frank keeps calling “Mafia,” as if he knows something we don’t), and that together they could strive to overthrow the shackles of a rapacious imprisoning system that is bent on swallowing up as many “bodies” (that’s what they call inmates) as possible.

Why? Because slavery, imprisonment and censorship just make *good* capitalist sense… for the owners. Not for the rest of us.

Speaking of prison, FREE JULIAN ASSANGE!

Juneteenth celebrates freedom from literal slavery to the capitalist system at its most egregious.

What’s sex got to do with it? All those slaves were also sex slaves, some to the “Master” rapist, others were viewed as breeders, so on Juneteenth they got their sexual freedom as well as other types of freedom.

We celebrate Juneteenth with pure, shameless, erotic joy as a form of protest against a system that does everything to destroy that joy, or at least enslave it.

June 19, 2021 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.

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