Tag: personal story

  • 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.

    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.

  • Born weird

    CW: longread, russia, strong personal opinion, (+ full gallery unedited Milk bath by Kay Hues)

    I was born in Siberia, in a town with 700 000 population, but so conservative that the word “bisexual” I learned somewhere in my twenties already in Saint-Petersburg.

    While living in my hometown, I knew that there are gays and lesbians, and both things are “bad”, I knew that I didn’t fit into both, nor did I fit into “normal” teen society. I didn’t call them straight people back then. I didn’t have the concept yet. I just knew: I didn’t fit. I could feel it almost every day. 

    Snowboarders accepted me somehow when I was around 12-13 and, damn, it was a great part of my life since then! I was I weirdo, but thanks to snowboarding – I was a cool one. Also hanging out with older cool snowboarders made me an unpleasant target for bullies. Not without my help of course.

    Very early I learned to use reputation instead of actual fists and to anticipate the fight or start it first but on my own terms instead of ignoring or avoiding possible attacks on my weirdness.

    Back then I hated it. The weirdness I mean. I WANTED SO FUCKING MUCH TO BE JUST NORMAL. But I couldn’t. I couldn’t understand why everyone is so serious and fixed on their gender roles.

    Why should I date guys if I’m attracted to girls too?

    Is it just me?

    What happens if they know that I’m pretending to be one of them, but I’m actually not?

    Why do I feel so much? 

    The only thing keeping me sane throughout my first 16 years of life was traveling and my mom helping me to see the world. She was taking me to different countries and different places abroad. Not just to resorts and beaches, but to capitals, museums, flea markets, theatres, and other places where I could interact with different cultures.

    The magical part about this kind of traveling was that I also realized quite early – weird is not always bad. The world is huge and full of different things.

    I was far from accepting my own weirdness, but I could enjoy the weirdness of other people. And It was giving me hope. 

    When I turned 17 I moved “to the cultural capital” as I liked to call it back then. It was 2003, and it felt amazing after the village where I grew up.

    The bookstore on Nevsky had more than 5 kinds of gay magazines. No one gave a fuck. I was however very confused about my personal interest in gay magazines.

    They WERE CLEARLY NOT MEANT FOR ME. Why was I so attracted then?

    If I ever write a proper memoir, the chapter about my life in Saint Petersburg should probably be called:

    ME, TRYING TO LIVE A NORMAL LIFE, AND FAILING AT EVERY STEP.

    To some people’s standards, I could even call myself successful. I got my first flat. Then another one. I worked in the fashion industry and met some famous people. I had a relationship. Nice one to some people’s standards.

    But I was utterly unhappy. It all just felt wrong.

    Fake. Sad and pointless. 

    As if I didn’t live my life, but someone else’s.

    Photos by Kay Hues

  • Who owns the world?

    Trigger warning: suicide thoughts mentioned.

    When I was a kid, I thought the world belongs to adults. At least adults behaved like it’s true: they could make their own decisions and had the authority to tell others what to do. I wanted to be one.

    Later I started thinking that the world belongs to men. Or at least they behaved as if it did belong to them. I even joined their shitty competition for success and wealth. For a bit, it actually felt like money can give me the power to shift that balance. But I never managed to have enough to fully feel it. I got stuck in limbo, I could literally watch how it got harder and harder to earn money (because that’s how capitalism works), so my self-esteem for a while was tightly attached to my income. If I was successful – I felt like I deserve my place in the world, but I could never stabilize this status. I felt like I’m running behind the train, I still could see it, but I couldn’t catch it.

    The worst part was always: dealing with authorities. Anyone official with the power to question me was making me feel small and insignificant. It never stopped me from getting things done, I started my own business when I was 19 and didn’t bribe a single person while running multiple companies in Russia for more than 10 years. Or 15? Depends on how we count, it’s kinda a lot anyway. This whole time I felt like I had to prove myself worthy almost every fucking day. What a cute idiot I was, huh?

    When I left Russia, I thought it would be over. But different issues appeared. In Germany: I didn’t speak German, I didn’t have a proper job (I’m self-employed my whole life), didn’t have a single paper about my education (everything I know I’ve learned by myself). Once again I felt like an imposter, that must prove the opposite as soon as possible, or I’ll be expelled.

    I have had suicidal thoughts since I’m 20. I never tried to kill myself just because I know that I’ll succeed. I’m too afraid of causing pain to people who care for me. And I was always lucky enough to have a lot of them in my life, so I keep breathing.

    I’m telling you all this not to ask for your pity. This is my way of fighting back. I don’t want to show you my strong side without introducing you to the weak one first.

    I had no idea that I was an HSP. People were telling me, that I was too emotional, and taking things too personally, getting angry over nothing, and creating drama where there is none… Don’t get me wrong: people keep telling me this also now. The difference is that now I know that it’s not me who is broken, it’s the world. This small knowledge changes so much.

    If you are struggling with suicidal thoughts, please seek out help, here is the link. And please remember: You are not alone.

    I’ll be unfolding the pain of dealing with some very basic things, like bureaucracy and… well, how to phrase it? Capitalism, I guess. I wish to let you see how it ALL feels.

    What I am offering you here is to look into my soul along with my crotch. I wonder how many of you are actually brave enough to do this in the long run. I can promise to sweeten the pill with some hot and pervy content that I create for my Patrons. Since this creative process actually makes me feel whole.

    As if the world belongs to me.

    This is the first post out of 10 that I prepared to be available for free on this website and will publish by the end of the year. Besides personal stories and nudes, there will be an interview about ropes and hooks with Shanti, my first private-play-almost-porn video, short clips from my club sessions, 20 minutes of me doing naked yoga on my legendary balcony in Berlin, and some other weird stuff that I find interesting.

    Follow me on social media for updates, share my posts, and spread the word about my project if it speaks to you. I want to be seen. I’m ready.

    Let’s get to the crotch part already!

    My husband took those pictures of me and my cat in our Berlin flat when one of my lovers wanted to borrow some outfits and I volunteered to model. I edited a few of them first, but then I questioned myself: what for? I hope you appreciate this kind of intimacy. 

    thank you for your attention, support me on Patreon to unlock other content 😉

    your Sicut