Sicut-Dico

Author: Sicut Dico

  • Chaturbate theory

    Update 3 (06.02.23): yay, first tips received, so we plan to come back tomorrow, on Tuesday 7.02.23, 8 am Berlin time. Thanks for all the comments and shares.

    Update 2 (05.02.23): The next live cam show is scheduled for Monday, 9 am Berlin time.

    Update 1: done for tonight, thanks to everyone who joined, here are the resulting snapshots. We might continue, it was fun.

    I have to find out what happens if I allow people to sneak after my candle-making process live that I also intend to do dressed in outfits I usually wear at Kikatclub in Berlin.

    I’m not sure if I can fully explain why exactly I decided to test this theory before the others, but I’m very sure it’s one of those moments when it’s a lot easier just to do the thing and find out.

    Shall we?

    Here is the link to my Chaturbate account, but you can also watch me just here below

  • The first half of the reflection posts is published for patrons and the other half of last year (which I would love to publish) is still a huge pile of content to process. Technically and emotionally – both. Some events require more time to understand how I feel about them.

    Even though this post was also rotting in drafts for a while and I happen to devalue myself twice a day, it looks like the art of small steps is still working for me. Some progress is still happening.

    déjà vu

    Now I’m at the funny stage where it’s already time to have money coming from projects, but instead, I have another identity crisis to deal with. I’m not sure if it is a good thing in general, but I became so familiar with those crises, so it doesn’t even feel like a big drama. The world is falling apart anyway.

    Money topics used to be terribly unsexy for me by default and my project is partly helping to change this statement. I’m as curious as you are to see where it brings us.

    I heard so many people already telling me that my ideas are stupid and pointless, so I can’t wait to act and see for myself.

    Candle store

    In a few days, I’ll launch the candle store on my website, where only patrons and friends will get access first. Since I can’t produce more than 10 candles a day anyway they always will be up to limited availability.

    The first drop will be only available (to pick up) in Europe, a bit later I hope to offer worldwide delivery.

    The slightly crazy part is that I want to stream the process of making candles to smth like Chaturbate or so. I’m setting up an account there and planning the first stream for the next week. I think it should add to the uniqueness of the candles as well as entertain my inner exhibitionist. Would you watch me?

    Here is the video from our camera test with Sil last Wednesday btw.

    With a webcam deal, I won’t feel too bored too fast with this whole business hustle. Hopefully. Because now while making all the calculations, business plans, and procedures I can’t say I felt like it was something I want to do a lot.

    BUT. We all need money, and some of us also need good waxplay candles. Perhaps we can make each other slightly happier at this point.

    If you know me and would like to try my candles in exchange for exposure and honest feedback – contact me asap

    If you like my idea and would be curious to see how it develops, please support me and here is how:

    HOW TO SUPPORT ME

    or

    HOW TO BUY ME

  • The blue elephant in the yellow room

    TW: politics, death, and war mentions!

    I think part of me would prefer the subject of this post not to be made public. It’s not a sexy story, but it’s as real as all the filth and wax that hasn’t yet been cleaned off my floor since last night.

    So I’m sorry, dear reader, but in order for this blog to present my true self, we need this dark and nasty story more than ever. The part of me that wants to remain ignorant will have to go fuck itself. Not in a good way.

    Why do I have to mention the war?

    Feel free to call it compensation. Where I was born, you can’t talk about the war, you risk up to 15 years in prison for such a statement. (A month ago, when I wrote a draft of this article, the figure was 5 btw, they are catching up).

    And since I am not there, but bear some guilt and responsibility for what is happening today, I simply have no choice but to exercise my privilege to speak out.

    I am not trying to be a hero. It is my survival instinct combined with common sense. Let me explain. My survival strategy is to turn the pain and horror I feel in this world into something else, which usually involves other people cooperating, sharing, helping each other heal, etc.

    Part of me wants to apologize and explain, to tell you that I voted in all possible elections, but it didn’t change anything. We were all convinced that the situation would not get that bad. We all lived our lives. And it wasn’t enough.

    Sharing this with you doesn’t change much immediately. The therapeutic effect of this article starts later. Let’s first look at what is behind the guilt and sadness I feel.

    I feel the legacy of this rotten empire inside me. It’s a weird mix of feelings, but the worst part is that I can feel that the hate creates more hate in all of us. Myself included.

    One morning I was laughing and I swear I felt joy when I read news from Russia where one of the assholes who was telling people that covid isn’t real and that Putler is a messiah, was hospitalized because of covid. And I wanted him to fucking die.

    I feel uncomfortable with it, but it’s true. Waiting for one particular person to die was pretty acceptable to me, but when it comes to two of them, I’m not sure I like the trend.

    Then Sil showed me a flyer from the church in Lviv where they used the font “dead Russians” for Christmas mass (featured image) and I started laughing again. Loudly. Joyously.

    What the hell is this?

    I try to vent this frustration the same way I vent shame. I check. If it’s really mine. Or has it stuck in my throat because I CAN feel it?

    Should it be mine?

    I don’t know the answer.

    All I know is that it’s healthier to survive this madness by talking about it. Rather than multiplying the hate.

    And that this is the opposite of what oppressive systems want.

    Talking, thinking, asking questions, having your own opinion, these are privileges that I have the right to exercise. Even if it doesn’t change anything in the immediate future. Even if someone might be offended. I feel like I’m betraying myself if I don’t address this in my blog.

    The best I can offer is: trigger warnings will appear every time I bring up a topic like this.

    I don’t claim to be the source of ultimate wisdom. I’m just trying to understand my own feelings. And it seems that sharing them with others helps me not to drown in the darkness I feel.

    I know that the war in Ukraine is not the only war on the planet. And the worst thing is that we only realized in February that the war had started much earlier, in 2013, and the biggest victory of the propaganda is that the whole world only noticed it last year as well.

    What I also know (as a manager and entrepreneur) is that in order to solve a problem, we must first identify and understand it, which means thinking, talking and asking questions.

    Once we have identified the problem and its origin, we can solve it. Not earlier.

    My problem was that I was afraid to express myself and felt too small to matter.

    I never questioned if I should do something to help Ukraine, but at first, I didn’t know what to do exactly. I was helping refugees in private and felt as if I had no right to brag about it.

    Some days, this ability to help helped me to survive.

    I still can’t stop this war, but I try to do something every day. I reorganize my work so that the money from my projects goes to support specific causes or people in Ukraine.

    I also wrote an article about 15 kinky brands from Ukraine because I think they are really great and also because I want to invite everyone who is looking for fetish outfits to combine fun with a good deed.

    More information on how to help Ukraine right now is available here.

    слава україні, ПТHX

  • My candle project intro is coming…

    …but not as fast as I would want it to.

    Yesterday was a day of technical misery and frustration; I was too ambitious about my plans and didn’t think everything through.

    So the issue was, that from two cameras only one was recording 😞.
    We will try again next week to make a proper tutorial for patrons.

    But for now, I just squeezed the 20 minutes into a single one, so we all can enjoy the butt of my lovely friend Lishka💕, who actually tried waxplay for the first time yesterday!

    Also, she could confirm that some of the candles are pretty mild.
    On the edge of boring.
    So we’re looking to fix that 🔥for the next time too.

  • Thank You! (reflection update and Psycho Dark gallery)

    June’s reflection brought me to not only publish that nude yoga video (June’s reflection part 1) for public observance but also to write this appreciation post, where I want to say a massive

    THANK YOU

    to the people who supported me with my exploration journey in 2022.

    First of all

    Thank you, Patrons! Without you believing in me at the beginning of this year, I wouldn’t be able to gather the inner resources to do what I eventually did.

    This website is the result of my fight for finding my own way in this life.

    The show is on, thanks to you.

    The reflection project is my attempt to make my blog better structured and more consistent. But I feel like it’s a great investment in life for people like me, who like to live fast and devalue our own achievements. It feels good to slow down, breathe, and look back.

    thank you, Ari Denaro

    For the door to the kinky Narnia backstage of Let’Z Fetish Academy that you so kindly opened for me, and thanks for supplying me with tools and techniques as well.

    Ari Denaro is showing how things are done. You can see me trying to compete in the background.

    But most of all, thank you for accepting me for who I am, accepting my ways, and the ethics that I carry. Thank you for your free spirit, curiosity, and will to understand new.

    I’m grateful for your trust. But you know this already. So just fucking big ass thank you, dear Ari!

    Another huge thank you goes to Julia Vilianen

    for the amazing headpiece, for being an even more amazing friend, and for all your talent and help! I can’t wait for the next round of creating something together.

    The outfit for Psycho Dark party in June that you see in the gallery below was done by Julia. I think I’d like to wear it more next year, I like I how it makes me feel. If you go to Ari’s website you can see more pictures from Psycho parties btw.

    thank you, PierreW.de for the pictures

    It’s always a pleasure to deal with you, and thank you for being so sweet.

    Here is the gallery. Enjoy!

    Thank you, beautiful Ángela. You were such a pleasure!

    Since I started naming people, I’m not sure exactly how to stop. It’s so many of you, my dear friends and lovers, to whom I want to scream: THANK YOU FOR BEING IN MY LIFE.

    But let’s make a deal. I’ll name the Slut, Gene, and Sil because I already introduced them here and they are my closest family. Thank you, darlings, just for who you are.

    I also have to name Shanti and Kay, because they are involved in the recent posts. Shanti gave me an Interview about hooks and ropes, and Kay was once a very cool creative partner in crime I used her pictures to illustrate another post (Born weird) that I decided to make public this year.

    So the rest of the deal is that I stop naming people I want to thank, so we can all have our lives. And you start clicking on the links and getting to know me a bit better. Because that was the whole plan.

    Support my blog if you like the content. I’m planning to have a few days off from posting now, and come back with fresh nudes and stories. I still have so much to tell!

    Thank you all,

    love you,

    Sicut

  • Nude yoga raw video

    June’s reflection results cums in two posts. Here is the second one, social.

    This one is intimate. I’m giving you the view that only my husband could enjoy, and he said he very much enjoyed it, along with his morning coffee, back in my old flat in Berlin.

    So I suspect some of you might enjoy it as well🙂.

    For the exhibitionist inside me, my balcony in Berlin was an excellent place to get some relatively safe exposure on a daily basis.

    And nude yoga was an excellent recharging practice for me.
    I still remember the cold wind on my private parts. It felt so nice!
    And right now, I’m really missing that feeling.

    I did this more than once, but only once I filmed myself.
    Later I had no idea what to do with this video, not for the whole year.

    But now I’m finally posting it as one of the free posts of 2022, closing up on my daily posting marathon this year.

    Uncut and unedited. Have fun!
    And remember the warm summer days 🌞😎

  • March raw reflection

    (CW: nudity, self reflection from march 2022 written a year after)

    Let’s begin with the reflection session results this time. I started with taking pictures. I tried different angles, but the look from the bottom seems to be one of my favorites.

    In the process, I decided to spank myself a little. Mostly to make that slow-mo video, but also to get a reminder about the sensations that I give to others. It felt good. 

    Another video was originally just to choose some snap-shots from, but I like how real I am there. 

    Now let’s get to the story I have after reflecting on March 2022

    Pain and pleasure essentially are the same thing. Sensations. Sometimes we forget about this fact. But it’s all in our heads. I had a painful butt for a week in March, and I enjoyed every day of it hurting just because it was my decision to get that damage.

    We humans are very funny creatures indeed. Every time I sat down I was feeling the pain, but I liked it, and even now, after almost a year I feel a lot of positive emotions about that pain. No memories attached, really. It just felt good.

    It was a roller coaster month otherwise. I had absolutely incredible experiences, and the darkest moments of this year as well, all mixed up.

    I started Patreon, but kept writing in russian, and even though I already understood that it had to stop, I kept following the old program. I guess I was just not able to not write about some things.

    On the positive side – I got better at finding adventures for my ass. I met Ari and started using Fetlife. More of my fantasies became actions. For the first impact play workshop, I chose to go for a switching session, and not only tried all popular spanking devices that are offered by Let’Z Fetish Academy at Kitkatclub but got a nicely bruised butt with exactly the same choice of tools back. The results you can see below.

    But this was my fun life

    My real life continued falling apart. Most of my income directly involved russia. I had a European franchise business there, I was consulting on marketing and business strategy, basically, I was a bridge between the modern western world, where I lived and consumed information, and the post-Soviet purgatory, that had just opened the gates to hell.

    Balancing those two lives brought me questions.

    Which one is real?

    Which one should be real?

    Can I make a living out of blogging about all this?

    The concept of the blog I had before seemed like a setup to failure. (I had about 8000 followers of russian-speaking audience on Instagram, where I was posting about keto food and open marriage experiences, but that was more of a side project for me to digest emotions and feel seen.)

    What do I have to offer? I knew I like to be seen, and I like to interact with an audience. I was craving the excitement of playing with them, and being in control of the game. I fantasized about the attention of many. Not necessary to like me. But to notice me. Acknowledge me Feel something. But fantasies and reality are not easy things to connect, so I’m glad I believed in myself enough to follow the art of small steps and explore what it brings. 

    launching Patreon was not a spontaneous desigion. I blogged already for a few years (in Russian of course) on Instagram
    I liked blogging, but I didn’t want to be trapped in one platform
    The adventures of my ass continued, I was crazy to share that experience with other, my audience in the blog I had back then wasn’t ready to see the next picture
    That’s not how popular Instagram content looks like. At least from the perspective of the majority
    Here I’m celebrating the launch of Patreon and still trying to ignore the language issue I’m trapping myself in
    Moments of sadness are there too, but I keep planing adventures, just with a sad face
    cat recovered after covid and went into siren mode screaming at the door every day. So I took him for a walk along the wall
    the bruises are with me for the rest of the month
    I start playing with different cameras and my head start generating ideas for cam shows
    Sharing the lovers with other lovers turns out to be extra fun. But not without drama
    one of the sunny mornings, when I woke up and started writing a text right away
    The world is falling apart, but at least I’m taking care of myself
    Gene is just being fabulous and always there to help with my drama
    Am I a pimp now? Do I like this idea? Fuck yes
    Me and the cat looking into the future with hope
    telling Gene about my pimping career and bruised butt
    Hard to explain why this picture makes me smile, but it does and it reflects the mood I had in March 22, so here it stays

  • February raw reflection

    (Trigger warning: suicide and war topic)

    February was a disaster month. The first half of it I was battling post-covid depression and weakness in my body, and just when I started climbing out of it, the war started. I wanted to die from that virus. I had so many plans and hopes that crashed. But also so many doubts that just received concrete solid confirmations of the worst. Workwise, I was utterly unhappy. I had a lot of projects, but they all seemed pointless. Stupid games, where the only factor that mattered was money.

    I realized that wasting my life in order to just chase money or do something else with it was actually in the range of my control. It had to be something else. But the reality was brutal and dark. The world seemed to be all about money. Or the power that money  brings.

    How the fuck do other people not freak out about this as much as I do? Why does everyone seem to find it all somehow acceptable? Am I the only crazy one?

    The day after the war started, I went on a date. On the way, I thought it was a shitty idea. I was empty. But that date was a blast, I swear I had nothing like this before. It felt like I opened some magical door in my body: all the sensations got an upgrade. Every orgasm was stronger than another and I didn’t feel overstimulated. In fact, I wanted to have the levels of stimulation that my sensitive body was never ready to experience before. I sort of managed to relax into it. I don’t know how many times I came that evening, it would be foolish of me to even attempt to count. And at some point, of course, it stopped..

    My legs were shaking for an hour afterwards. The best I could do was a joke that I probably overdosed myself on sex for a few days. But I came home and realized that I was horny again. Another thing I remember thinking, looking in the mirror: I was happy.

    Happy, horny, and ashamed of it.

    I think I was kinda ashamed of that horniness. Good thing I had my therapist. Together we accepted the positive truth: it felt good. And that was the most important thing. As if my body decided to give a reward for all the stress and sadness it had endured.

    So I can almost say I was prescribed to have good sex for mental health reasons. I think it was a very good trick. Almost like it wasn’t my decision, because I wasn’t exactly sure if I deserved happiness. I mean this kind of happiness, especially.

    Why not?

    I didn’t realize that I was still so attached to Russia and the mentality that it programs into people. That shame of horniness was definitely a gift from my past. I was still trapped in the concept of being “a good girl”.

    And good girls are not horny all the time, and they definitely don’t plan their life around sex events.

    But are good girls happy?

    feeling alive 5 min a day after shower. The rest of the time rather miserable
    forcing myself to go for short walks and planing dates with lovers
    colorful hair as a part of therapy
    berlin sends messages
    finally the coat gets to go out. The top on the photo is covering tits, but I planned to put it down later
    digesting the party experience and documenting nipple stickers
    telling Gene the squirt shower story*
    selfie on the day before the war
    24.02.22
    going to see the slut
    joining other people from former soviet countries to process what’s going on
    for me the protest walk didn’t feel like a protest. More like a funeral possession: completely useless for the cause of event, but somehow necessary for everyone around
    I think somewhere here I started seriously thinking about working with Gene. Before we were just friends that got close during the pandemic years
    *The squirt shower story

    …happened shortly before the war. Since I wanted to visit more venues that hosted kinky parties, one of my lovers invited me to a club I’d never been to. We planned that date for quite some time, tickets were bought online, and the process of choosing the outfits and discussing other details was one of the pleasant things that month, actually helping me to feel better. Pink hair also wouldn’t have happened without that party plan.

    I was sharing this story with my followers on TG, but back then I was still writing mostly in russian. That was the only text I wrote in English that month. I think I didn’t really understand how hard it is to just switch languages. But I’m glad I didn’t understand that back then, it didn’t stop me from taking the small steps forward. It is worth the struggle. 

    As I say

  • January 2022 reflection

    (CW: politics, nudity, strong personal opinion, long texts, intense and sensual music)

    January 2022 was full of unsexy shit. I went to Russia to see my mom and got Covid on the way back. It’s harder for me to feel sexy in a country where the oppression of sexuality is part of the ideology. The air I breathe there reminds me that I simply don’t belong. I noticed people looking at me like they were scared, or in the best case, frustrated.

    But I managed to make that trip not so awful in the end: I went snowboarding, had a lot of massages and good food, and ordered some tailored clothes for going out. That’s what I want to focus on for today. 

    I ordered not just regular clothes, but a few sexy outfits that I specifically planned to wear at sex parties and similar events. That action was extremely empowering. I’m not sure if I understood exactly in January how much I had invested in myself, but I’m glad it happened. 

    I was talking to the tailor (a friend, and a client of mine) about the purpose of the items and she asked me a question. What do I do when I go to those places? What is happening there? She was extremely curious about details and honestly, I didn’t know what to say.

    I didn’t really know myself yet. 

    The best way I could phrase the answer at that moment was this:

    I like to be seen naked. Or half naked. Show my tits to be precise

    I like the attention that I get from people. I like the thrill of preparing for the party— thinking things through in my  head, defining boundaries, and searching for curiosity peaks. 

    The longer I was questioning every bit of morality that I grew up with, the more I could see how quickly the power of social prejudices faded in my eyes. I’ve enjoyed the results quite a lot. Back then I was still afraid of what would come out of me, but I knew I owed myself this exploration.

    And you know what happens when you tell people you are into sex clubs? They start telling you their own personal things. I don’t know if it’s a general rule or it just works that well for me, but I get many personal stories from many different people. And this kind of information helped me tremendously to accept myself through understanding how different we all are. 

    Getting the clothes specifically designed for being naked made me feel grown up and powerful. As if I owned the world. I knew already from my business experience that a good suit or a good dress can make you feel stronger. When we like ourselves, it’s easier to believe in ourselves.

    To feel real

    So for my first reflection session, I wanted to wear those items and film myself. Here are some screenshots from the result.

    Originally I just wanted a funny and easy-to-wear coat to have something warm and blanket-like for parties. But the tailor specialized in suits, and her new collection samples were in the showroom. I tried the red suit and fell in love with it. One of my subpersonalities always wanted to look like this. I think it needs some leather or latex accessories, but I have no plans to wear it with a shirt or anything else under it. Just  naked skin. And my tits.

    I think it’s important to understand that in January I would not yet put the fetish label on myself openly: I was too scared of it. I was just exploring my sexuality! The whip was stored in a box under my bed, and I would never have believed anyone if they told me that by the end of the year I would use that whip publicly not just once, but in a few European capitals. And that  people would give me money to get whipped!

    No fucking way I would believe that!

    Life is funny. What can I say? In the gallery below you can see some pictures from that time. I didn’t meet my kinky lovers that month, I think I only had good old home sex and nothing else, but the thought processes in my head were all about planning and arranging new experiences with other horny sexually open people in the future.

    snowboarding definitely makes me happy. Even when equipment is falling apart
    first of January
    the food is nice
    selfcare is cheap
    and sun is warm
    new haircut was a mistake, but I like bleached hair
    guitar and organ concert. Loved it
    coat making process
    this lunch probably costed me covid
    second half of the month was so so, but I change my hair color again
    a lot of time in bed, and not the right kind of bed time
    the cat got sick too, poor fucker was sneezing a lost his sences of taste and smell

    Apparently, this was the most boring month of the year, especially if we try to look at it from the sexy POV.

    note from myself in 2024

    It was my last visit to a terrorist country where I obviously didn’t want to see what was already visible. No one sane wanted to see that in January 2022. However. The fascism was already there. Everyone just preferred to look the other way. I guess this is exactly how fascism is being cooked in the end. Enough good people just need to stay ignorant.

    So how is this connected to the point we have started with? Well. I hope this at least serves as an introduction of my background, but the bigger mission behind is to explain why cant I simply stay away from politics? At least in this blog that was supposed to be about me exploring “the realms of sexuality”.

    It simple for me. We can’t afford staying away from politics because it is the only way to prevent fascists from taking over. I’ll try to explain more on the way.

  • Instagram just removed this story, so it will be here

    Since I spent a few minutes creating it

    Slutty Link