My interview with Portland Monthly just came out today. I’d say it turned out pretty sweet. But I suppose it’d be pretty hard not to be when you have such a fantastic subject such as myself.
I’ll never forget the phone call I received a week after the interview was conducted, it was from a younger sounding guy who was fact checking the story. This magazine is generally known for hiking tips and pulled pork recipes and here he asking me questions about selling my pee and circumcision incest fantasy videos. I’m so used to this shit I didn’t think anything of it at first, I just answered his questions in my matter of fact way that I do. Then I noticed he was snorting and giggling at everything I said and I realized this was surely the best fact checking assignment of his whole career.
A nice boy from the Czech Republic sent me some fan art a little while ago. He has a pretty interesting Instagram page that contains mostly pictures of lobsters and Joseph Stalin. No joke. I’d link to it but I’m pretty sure he’s much too young to be watching my videos, so I had block him. But I’m sure he’s a good kid with a bright future ahead of him.
In the BDSM world, people often engage in what is known as “aftercare” as a way to recover after a heavy D/s scene. BDSM can be an intense psychological experience and people often have certain needs to acclimate back into the real world comfortably and process the entire experience in a positive way. It could be as simple as a glass of water, a little cuddling, or a deep and reassuring conversation.
The practice is practically absent in the online world, especially in regards to fetish clips. For example, a customer will buy a video of mine, watch me ruthlessly humiliate him, tear down his ego and treat him like shit. Then he’ll cum and it’s done. He cleans up and goes about his day. He doesn’t know me beyond erotically cruel persona I’ve presented to facilitate his orgasm, and I don’t know them beyond an invoice number that appears in my inbox. I’m not saying any of this is good or bad. It’s just one of many ways the adult online marketplace works.
I recently had a customer submit a custom clip request where he wanted me to simply sit relaxed and casual talking directly to the camera giving “meta blessings” which he described as a “kind of prayer for your love to be spread all over the world to every living being.” He gave me some examples of what he meant (“Stay loving. Stay positive. Especially about yourself.” “Everyone has something to offer to the world. Especially you.”) and in the end asked me to be honest and sincere in what I said.
Well, honestly, that hippie shit doesn’t resonate with me. So I took his request and did in my way. It’s essentially the clip version of “aftercare.” A way of stepping outside my role and offering up a little perspective. It’s meant to be watched after any of my other clips. Especially for those who feel a bit weird or uncomfortable about you fetish.
Its all off the cuff (like all my videos) I didn’t rehearse this or write a script. That probably shows. It’s not perfect. I repeat myself here and there and I’m sniffling some from a cold. I realize it’s still a little impersonal and one video won’t be relevant to every person. But it’s real and sincere and I offer it to you all for free. Hopefully some of you find some value in it.
Currently seeking: Submissive and fetishists. Particularly those who actively buy phone sessions.
For what: A podcast project currently in the works.
The premise: I record our phone fetish session at $1/min through skype. Then afterwards I’ll record a casual conversation (free) where we get to know each other as people and talk about our normal lives.
The intent: To make a personal connection with my client, both sexual and non. Show juxtaposition between the two conversations in and out of our fetish roles.
I’m looking for candor and openness, but I would not ask anything of you that would reveal your identity. You are welcome to ask questions of me as well, I’m looking for a conversation as oppose to an interview.
Participants will receive: a massive discount in my phone rate: $1/min as oppose to $5/min. The “casual” conversation will be free. Once completed, I’ll offer a free 3 month subscription to my members website (cearalynch.com)
A few days ago I was invited to the Grammy afterparty at the playboy mansion. Hugh Hefner recently put the house on the market, so it was likely their last event. I’m not a huge fan of giant parties and at $2500 a ticket, it’s not something I’d actively seek to goto, but for gender and beauty related reasons I got invited to go for free, so hey why not right?
Turns out my time would have been better spent doing just about anything else. It was easily one of the most unorganized, miserable event I’ve ever been to. Before the party we had to pick up a wristband inside a dirty parking lot, then we waited on the side of the road for one of the infrequent shuttles to come pick us up. Swarms of glamorous people in black tie and ballgown attire we’re shuffled around like confused cattle in some sort of line in which no one seemed to know which way started and which way ended. There was no rhyme or reason as to who got aboard first so eventually everyone just swarmed the shuttles like the Hollywood zombie apoloclypse.
The fun didn’t end there. Once we arrived we soon found out our wristbands weren’t enough to get past the front lawn and we needed an elusive stamp to get inside (which wasn’t really “inside” the mansion, but rather a tented off “VIP” area.) we got the run around, directed every which way until finally getting a substitute card in place of a stamp, but of course the door man wouldn’t accept it until someone else eventually came around and validated it.
Mind you, I’ve been in heels for two hours at this point. 90% of my energy has been zapped just trying to get in. Did I mention I’m not drinking? In retrospect I probably should have just knocked back a few.
There were a few celebrity sightings, for those of you who care about that sort of thing. Nick lachey, Andy Dick, Puff Daddy and Richard Branson. I’m sure more showed up later but I couldn’t stick it out past 11:45pm. The party got increasingly more crowded, with no where to sit unless you wanted to drop another $7,500 on a table. Idling on my phone is only fun for so long when you’re wearing 4 heels.
So we hopped a shuttle back. It was full of people who, just like me, were disillusioned by it all and couldn’t wait to get out of there. At the gate were swarms more people, like Syrian refugees trying to get in. People who dropped thousands but couldn’t get in because they sold tickets over capacity.
A couple weeks ago I returned from 6 weeks of backpacking in the Philippines, Indonesia and Sri Lanka. I’m at a bit of a stump on how to write a concise, entertaining, blog entry about my overall experience, which was really a series of many experiences packed densely into a relatively short amount of time. Also, most of you probably won’t care as it has nothing to do with entertaining your erection. So allow me to fluff it up with pretty pictures and maybe it’ll hold your attention.
Better? good. Now allow me to pick a little story from each country.
The Philippines: I ran into a face most of you would likely recognize. Astro Domina! A sheer coincidence that we happen to be in this country at the same time. Even a mere 20 minute walk away from each other in the city of Manila. The two of us were traveling in very different ways. For her, a plush 5 star hotel. For me, a grubby little hostel. (I could have afforded the former, but it can be lonely in an ivory tower so I usually opt for latter.) I took her out one night to my seedy part of the city which just so happened to be inside the red light district. We went bar hopping, checking out the lusty ladies of the night who offered top notch entertainment ranging from crossing their arms/looking bored to swaying back and forth to the music. I was a great night.
Indonesia: I spent my second year in a row in SE Asia over Christmas. I never celebrated as a kid so I have no nostalgic value for the usual holiday traditions. Humid weather, beaches, and smiling asian people in Santa hats pushing cheap drinks on me will do just fine. On Christmas eve my Australian travel partner and I danced into the wee hours at the local clubs in Gili Trawangan. It was a big night with both locals and foreigners out in full force. On Christmas Day it was all heavy rain and thunderstorms. We exchanged presents with each other in the morning and then celebrated Aussie style with a big seafood dinner at night.
Sri Lanka: Near the end of my trip I trekked up a mountain called Adam’s Peak. I was traveling solo again at this point. I started up at 2am and walked over 5,000 steps to the very top. Sounds crazy, but a lot of people do it so they can catch the sunrise by the time they reach the top (3-4hrs). It was one of those moments I wish I could have shared with someone I knew, but experiencing it within a crowd of strangers from all different countries and backgrounds added a beautiful sense of solidarity to my loneliness.
I flew back just in time to make it to Vegas for AVN. Back to this thing I call “normal life.” From third world countries where homeless street kids beg for the last sip from my water bottle, to the city of sin and excess where people pay 4 figures for VIP bottle service. I spent some quality time with the brilliant women I share this industry with and who’s friendship I cherish deeply. I also had the pleasure of shooting a few ballbusting videos with Jim, kicking him until his balls were the size of grapefruits and a smile filled nearly 3/4 of his face.
For more reasons than I could possibly count, I love my life.
Hopped a flight from LA. Travelled 14 hours next to a two year old who thankfully hardly made a sound. I’m on a layover in Taiwan at the moment. Just checked my email to find one that warmed my bitchy heart:
I’ll be in the Philippines for a week, then Indonesia for a while, then somewhere else… Try not to miss me too hard.
Yesterday I had the opportunity to be on Joe Rogan Experience. One of the most popular podcasts out at the moment with over 11 million monthly downloads. It’s hosted by comedian, actor, and UFC commentator Joe Rogan whose typical guests are other comedians, politicians, and MMA athletes. He releases several episodes every week that generally range between 2-3 hours where they converse on a range of topics.
I was surprised to hear he was interested in having me as a guest after our mutual friend, author Chris Ryan, had brought me up. The show is rather eclectic, but Im still not a typical sort of person he talks to. So I was rather excited for the opportunity.
I flew into LA in the morning and I arrived for the interview around 2pm. The studio was pretty rad, filled with random gifts people had given Joe; bobble heads, a nightmarish taxidermy werewolf, kettle bells all over the floor and portraits of Jimmy Hendrix and Elvis hanging from the walls. His assistant, Jamie, was there. I liked him. He offered me coffee and was easy to talk to.
Joe ran a little late. He came in, shook my hand and then hurried to get things started. He wanted to avoid talking much before recording lest we launch into an interesting conversation no one else hears. Minutes late were streaming live.
The podcast itself I have mixed feelings about. Joe asked the usual questions I get; how did you get into this? How much money do you make? What’s the weirdest request you’ve gotten? Do your parents know? As well as more cringeworthy questions like; Do you pay taxes? and what’s your “exit strategy?” That all was fine. Those are typical questions I get because that’s what most people want to know, so it makes sense that he would ask them. It made for a decent hour of conversation, but then Joe decided he wanted to end it there.
Im not sure why he wanted to cut it so short. I got the impression he felt a little awkward, like he didn’t know quite what to make of me or how to interact. He seemed preoccupied by the shock value of few times Ive sold my shit that he didn’t think there was much else to talk about. At the end of the day his show is more of a conversation than an interview and I maybe we just didn’t really click.
After our converation he recorded some ads, shook my hand politely, put my name on the list at the Comedy Store to see his stand up act, and left to pick up his kids. As I waited for my ride to pick me up, I chatted more with Jamie. He gave me a mug and told me stories about all the cool people he’s met working for Joe and how awesome it is that he can call it a job.
Overall I’m happy I got to be on the show, I’m a fan of it myself and it’s cool to be a part of a show you listen to regularly. It was pleasant experience, but I don’t think it was my most compelling interview.
I think I’ve reached a point in this niche market, where, if you’re into the weird fetishes I cater to, you already know who I am. So it wasn’t too suprisingly that rather than gain a few new clients from this mainstream exposure, I’ve just been getting emails from dudes asking for advice on how they can “break into the business” and sell their used briefs to women (FYI: you can’t.)
I just got back from a mini vacation in my favorite little surfer town in Mexico: Sayulita. This will have been my 3rd time visiting.
My days were spent sipping tequila, lounging on the beach, scuba diving and taking surf lessons with Shauna Ryanne.
I decided to take this trip on short notice and texted Shauna to see if she wanted to come. Turns out timing was perfect for her so she jumped on board. We’ve travelled to Mexico together earlier this year as well and spend some time in Thailand last year. Believe it or not I really do have friends outside my industry, but when it comes to the ones who have the means and flexibility to travel at the drop of a hat, they tend to be of the fetish & femdom variety. That’s just fine with me.
I was pleasantly surprised to receive a generous $1,000 tribute the day I arrived in Mexico from my anonymous sub (I know who he is, but you don’t get to.) Free money I don’t ask for is my favorite kind. It seems he cleared some items off my wish list as well. Such a good boy.
Mexico was just a little appetizer for my next stop: the Philippines and Indonesia. I’ll be taking off after stuffing my face with turkey with my family and staying for a much longer period of time. I’m not even sure how long to be honest, 6 weeks? 2 months? Don’t you worry though, I’ll still be updating new videos 4x a week and tweeting images of a lifestyle you sad sacks can only jerk off to.
A couple nights ago I was woken up at 6am by a man barging into my house. It startled me for a minute until I realized who it was.
“I’m here to do my job.” He joked “Normally I hate my job, but I’m actually excited to come into work today.”
He then stripped off his clothes, jumped into my bed and we fucked.
I had requested he come over the night before, after my long-term sub, Ismail, paid $500 yet again for a used condom and he needed it shipped to Africa as soon as possible because he’d be leaving for India next week.
“You realize your DNA is going to be dumped on some holy book in Zambia and then licked off by a devout religious married man with 2 kids?” I asked him post coitus.
“Yeah, wow, that’s really crazy. What if someone found the book and traced it back to me? What would they think?”
“Well, whatever they think, the truth is far more insane.”
Ismail came crawling back after throwing a little tantrum a couple weeks ago. He got upset when I wasn’t available to watch him eat the contents of another condom I sent to him over webcam when he wanted to. So, I shrugged him off, as I have so many times before, knowing it’d be a matter of days before he’d be unloading his wallet (and dignity) onto me again. He’s been sending me heaps of money for years, but his life is split in two polarizing directions; extreme fetish and extreme religion. So, it’s no surprise that he’s either promising complete devotion forever or swearing me off completely. This was not our first rodeo.
So for the umpteenth time, he asked if we could have a “new beginning.”
I’m reasonable woman. I agreed to take him back…with a couple requirements. 1. that he send me $1000 via western union and 2. he write me a thoughtful letter explaining how he fucked up and what he intends to do differently this time.
I have zero faith in the contents of the letter but money often overrules whatever bullshit a sub tries to feed me.
So Ismail requested another condom after he won my recent thong auction on ebanned. He’s kinda stupid, not too tech savvy and ended up outbidding himself several times over thinking he was bidding against another person, bringing the auction to an ending price of $550.
Side note: god damn my ass looks great here.
Anyway, I told him to make it $1000 and I’d throw the condom in there as well.
There you have it. The cost of a dirty thong, used condom, and forgiveness. Quite a bargain if you ask me.
When I was 17 years old I sold a 12 oz bottle of my urine and a pair of my worn pantyhose to a random fetishist online for $250. It immediately occurred to me that there must be more men like him out there. Today I run a lucrative business as a femdom humiliatrix; exploiting the bizarre kinks of men around the world through homemade clips, cam shows, phone service, and selling worn clothing.