Author Archives: cearalynch

New Orleans

Monday I returned from two weeks of traveling. I flew to New Orleans, Mexico, and then made a short stop in Seattle before coming home. Rather than write some monstrous blog entry about it all, I’m going to divide it into three parts. First, let’s talk NOLA:

I flew into New Orleans and got picked up by Mistress T and Meggerz who had already been in the area for a couple days. From the airport we decided to dash straight to the infamous House Of Shock before they closed for the night. Supposedly this would be the last year they’d be doing this haunted house. It was rather impressive; a massive maze of creepy rooms and people dressed as monsters and zombies jumping out at you.

New Orleans is a fun place to be near halloween since the city is already known for voodoo and ghosts. We decided to stick with that theme by taking a tour around the alleged haunted houses around the city. I don’t believe in ghosts and had a little too much to drink that night so I had a hard time paying attention. I mostly nodded along to her stories of gruesome murders and suicides, wondering if they were factual and feeling sorry for the fact that she had to deal with a group of people less discreet about their inebriation than I was.

The next day we took a boat tour in the swamp. Our tour guide was like someone’s southern uncle, chock full of corny jokes and endless facts about a few topics. We saw swampy things like turtles, birds and my least favorite animal in the world: crocodiles.

I have a special kind of disdain for crocodiles. So much so that I was very much looking forward to eating one. At one point we managed to find a hot dog spot that served crocodile sausage, which tasted suspiciously like a normal hot dog, but I’m going to go ahead and choose to believe some deprave, cold blooded reptile died for my gluttony anyway.

The tours were fun, but my favorite part was just walking around the French Quarter and soaking it all in. Listening to live music, browsing the shops and stuffing my face with the worst/best kinds of food.

At one point while walking around the Frenchmen area, we met Cameryn Moore: a play write and phone sex operator who was selling short, personalized erotica right on the street. For $20 she would ask you a series of personal questions about your sexual proclivities/interests and in less than 30 min you’d have your own typed up story customized to hit your erotic triggers. I must say, this woman has a gift. All three of us bought a story and none of us were disappointed. The best part was listening in as she read allowed Meggerz and T’s story (the interview process was private.) T’s story in particular confirmed that she truly is the most perverted woman I know (which should be of little surprise to anyone.)

Check out Mistress T’s blog about New Orleans here:

http://blog.mistresst.net

Check out over 50+ exclusive images from my trip by joining my members site:

http://www.cearalynch.com

We don’t choose what we like.

Last week I received this email from a guy, we’ll call him Phil.

“I’m so desperately horny and my head is all mushy. What would you ask for cam ASAP? I’ll pay it. My dick is hard and my wallet is open.”

Phil has contacted me here and there for a few years now. He likes to eat his own cum and masturbate in ridiculous ways. He once sent me a video of himself fucking a jelly donut and another in which he lit a birthday candle in his urethra and let the wax drip down the shaft. Great guy. On this day Phil was requesting a 20-minute humiliating blackmail session involving TeamViewer (a program where I can access his desktop via my computer.) I hate TeamViewer and was not actively camming when I got his email, which meant if I decided to indulge him I’d have to stop what I was doing, put on make up, dress sexy and get in the mood. So, I charged him accordingly: $500. He promptly paid.

The moment I turned on my cam he offered his TeamViewer login credentials without hesitation or coaxing. I logged in and opened up his desktop. The first thing I saw was an open browser containing several tabs; each containing a different woman’s instagram page. He told me one was his ex girlfriend, another was a hot chick he knew in college, and the other was a friend he liked.

My mission was clear: to facilitate his orgasm by fabricating the thrilling scenario of being exposed to these women for the semen-slurping pastry fucker that he is. I made fun of him for giving up this information so easily, mocked his inadequacies and pretended as though I was drafting up an email to send to each of them right there, spilling every dirty secret I had against him.

In reality, I have no interest in contacting these women. They didn’t agree to participate in his jerk-off games and to drag them into it would be a violation. Furthermore, I know that the moment Phil cums the last thing he’ll want is exactly what he’s begging and paying me to do now. That’s the irony of so many sexual fantasies: that in which we fear or disgusts us the most is exactly what sets shooting into sexual climax. But unlike most fantasies, Phil’s desires potentially have real life consequences beyond the simple shame of sexual deviance. So my job is twofold: to make him believe I am going to ruin him without actually doing it. The sense of “realness” is essential.

Midway through the session Phil loses his erection and sighs in distress. He tells me he doesn’t really want me to expose him and that it’s just a fantasy.

Of course I know that. But these fantasies are tricky, especially when the client gives you real ammunition. I’m forced to juggle with two polarizing emotions and it’s not always predictable which one will come up and at what time. I tried splitting the difference as best I could: assuring him that I haven’t done anything, but in a mocking way that lets him know I think he’s a giant pussy and probably gay for losing his erection around me. He then tries to change the subject in an abrupt, random sort of way by talking about podcasts and how I look like Aubrey Plaza. I guess in attempt to take his mind off the situation, I don’t know. Eventually his time runs up and I turn the cam off.

A few minutes later he messages me again and offers $100 to “finish up.” I accept, he pays, and I turn on the cam again. By this time he’s managed to get himself hard again, but the cycle continues: I play the part he wants, but he quickly loses his erection out of nervousness, admits defeat and the cam time runs up before he can get himself off. All in all $600 well spent.

I attract a certain amount of criticism for accepting money from guys like Phil. I get accused of taking advantage of men despite the fact that I’m (ironically) a rather passive domme who doesn’t actively seek out or coerce anyone into doing anything. If you don’t want to give me money for any reason, I genuinely do not care: there are more than enough men who do. But I can’t deny that clearly some guys do struggle with their desires and have difficulty controlling them. Phil is probably one of those guys. Is it immoral of me to do business with him? If so, what course of action am I suppose to take to distinguish between customers who are genuinely going “too far” (as oppose to just the fantasy of going “too far”) and those who are grown men who can make their own decisions about what to do with their money and penis.

We don’t choose what we like. Whether it’s the gender we’re attracted to or the fetishes we acquire; our minds make it up without consulting us and without our permission. A great book that drives this point home is Perv by Jesse Bering. I highly recommend it. His thesis is that we shouldn’t be concerned as to whether our sexual proclivities are normal or natural and focus on whether or not they are actually harmful.

I don’t think fantasies are intrinsically harmful, including ones about being blackmailed and humiliated by women. Most of my customers do just fine buying videos centered around those fetishes and then going about their unaffected lives. Very few actually risk messing up their relationships with others, dabbling in sex-offender type (flasher) behavior, or spending beyond their means.What exactly separates these two types of customers is not clear to me, but I have my speculations:

Phil is fairly young and I suspect like with many of my younger (& more confused) clients, he thinks he has to get rid of his fetish to get rid of the harm that potentially accompanies it. But no amount of fighting, denying or ignoring it will make it go away. Like putting a lid on a boiling pot, it’ll eventually spill over and you’ll lose control of its contents. The best course of action is to take the lid off and attend to it periodically. Meaning, if you stop policing your thoughts and jerk off to them when you want to, you’re less likely to lose control over them.

Letting an attractive woman ruin your life in multiple ways is a great fantasy that I highly approve of. The best part is you need not make it a reality to enjoy it. Thoughts are just thoughts; it’s how we act on them that matters.

Story Telling

This year I’ve been attending several local live story-telling shows. For those who are unfamiliar, it’s basically where a person gets up on stage and tells a true story about their life in front of an audience. It’s a craft; those who are skilled can turn a mundane event into engaging entertainment, while those who suck can take a thrilling experience and turn into boring drivel.

Probably the most well known show is called “The Moth” featured on NPR. All over the world there are StorySLAMs where anyone can put their name in a hat and if drawn, they get to tell a story. I made it a personal goal to tell a story by the end of the year and last Monday I did it. The theme for the night was “taboo,” so it felt like my calling.

I was incredibly nervous. I realize that might sound odd coming from someone who performs for a living, but performing in front of a live audience is a much different experience from performing alone in your room with a camera. It’s been years since I’ve been on a stage for any reason, and certainly the first time I’d gone on to tell a 6 min personal story I had memorized that day. I really thought I might have fainted or thrown up. Luckily I wasn’t called right away so that by the time I was, the waves of panic had cycled through and mostly subsided.

My story was about how I became a humiliatrix, my success, and telling my family (that’s all I care to give away for now.) Turns out, it went over rather well. Once I got up there the audience seemed to really enjoy it; laughing and cheering along. 2 of the 3 judges rated me the highest out of all the storytellers, while the other judge gave me a lower score. Added up: I got in 2nd place. Afterwards I received a lot of generous praise from patrons and was even approached by a producer of another show who invited me to tell the story there as well.

I’m pretty delighted! It was a great feeling and it won’t be my last.

I’ll be sure to post the recording for those who are interested once I receive a copy.

Burning Man 2014

Last week I attended burning man. It was my 4th year.

For those of you unfamiliar, burning man is an arts and counter-culture festival that takes place in the middle of the flat dessert near Reno. It serves as a temporary, self regulating city that values self expression and social inclusion. There are theme camps, workshops, elaborately decorated vehicles, dance parties, and beautiful sculptures that can reach up to 20 stories tall. Anything made of wood is burned near the end of the week while everything else is packed up and taken out of there, leaving no trace.

It’s a special place that many people refer to it as “home.” One of the more intriguing aspects is that there is no commerce. No money is ever exchanged so no one is profiting from these incredible projects that people often spend all year building and pouring their hearts into. I must admit, it’s quite humbling to a money grubbing harlot such as myself.

It’s difficult to describe burning man to people who’ve never been. Even the incredible images and videos that come out of it don’t come close to doing it justice. A lot of people just think its a place where people go to fuck, and while there’s certainly that aspect to it, it’s just one of many directions you can go. For me its all about the art, dancing, and connections I make with others. Fucking is great and all, but I have more than enough opportunities to do that with someone who hasn’t been baking in the sun for a week and covered in alkaline dust.

Like any good trip, I feel like a hit a bit of a reset button and have been processing what I’d like to do from this point forward. Being around that degree of creative energy and pure generosity is a bit contagious. Especially considering how more and more non-participating, consuming spectators attend burning man every year, I’d like to come back next year with a little more than just my self reliance. Not sure what that looks like just yet, but we’ll see.

Ceara Junky

Earlier this week I met up with one of my most loyal boys known to many as “Ceara-Junky” aka CJ. He was coming through town and we decided to get dinner, see a comedy show and grab a donut.

As many of you know I don’t do in-person sessions (with exception of the occasional film-slave I audition for my clips, in which case they are used for the benefit of my video profits, not their personal interests.) So, unless you count the $500 wad of cash he graciously handed over to me (a belated birthday gift to pay for my burning man ticket), this meeting was void of anything overtly kink related.

Part of me is hesitant to share the fact that I met up with one of my fans. From my experience, once I do something with someone, suddenly my audience thinks I’m willing to do it with anyone. Many of my other followers grew incredibly jealous and complete strangers on twitter even started asking me if I would meet up with them as well. (No. I won’t.)

So why is CJ the exception? For one, I’ve known him for a long time. 8 years now he’s followed me like a puppy dog with nothing but adoration and respect. 99.9% of the rest of my followers can’t last a few days without swearing me off after they’ve blown a load and then whining about their “addiction” to me like it’s a problem I’m suppose to fix. CJ hasn’t done even once.

Secondly, the nature of our relationship changed sometime ago when we began having more serious, personal discussions about life, relationships, sexuality and confidence. CJ started looking to me more for advice than an orgasm and our relationship started to resemble more of a friendship than anything else (albeit an atypical one that still involves me making lots of money from him.)

Several years ago I told him I didn’t want to hear him jack off on the phone anymore. It just became too weird for me once I started to take the roll of his over-priced, amateur therapist. That would be a deal breaker for most and I wouldn’t blame him if it was for him too, but it wasn’t. He continued to pay me for my empathetic support and perspective while he jerked off to me privately like the rest of the platonic men in my life.

This isn’t to say I don’t ever play around with his kinks. I’m just able to do it in a way that feels effortless and laissez-faire. I’m not putting on a show or actively working to entertain his fetishes in a way that feels like work.

Our relationship may comes across as strange to most and perhaps especially exploitative to those who already don’t like me, but that’s okay. Were both thoughtful, consenting adults. Relationships can take many forms and this one seems to work for us just fine.

Summer Fun

This year I made a conscious decision to skip Fetishcon. I’m sad I had to miss seeing my industry peers, but Portland has perfect weather for only a short time and traveling 8+ hours to the humid miserable mess that is Tampa just seemed less than appealing this time around. Luckily for me, one of the coolest chicks I know made a promise to come visit me if I made the decision not to go:

Mina Thorne!

If you don’t know who she is, do yourself a favor and buy up a batch of her clips now. She’s got a sinister mind, filthy mouth, and banging body. She also happens to make a great house guest. Together we up the town checking out book stores, drank fancy martinis and hit up the international beer fest.

On saturday night our mutual friend Princess Kahli drove up from California to perform at The Mystery Box (a live story telling show.) I first met Kali over a year ago at domcon and liked her right away. She was lively, hilarious, and was constantly entertaining everyone around with animated stories about her experiences as a professional dominatrix. I’m was stoked to see her do it on stage. She’s a natural. Here’s her performance:

The next night the three of us hit up my favorite spot to take visitors: stripperoke at Devil’s Point (that’s strippers + karaoke.) It was fantastic. Devils Point is a great club: the dancers are talented, the venue is chill, and nearly half the patrons are women. It’s even better when you’re watching Princess Kali failing to sing an Alanis Morissette song because she’s too distracted by the awesome pair of tits swinging skillfully around a poll less than 15 ft away.

—-

In other news, my conversation with Christopher Ryan (author of Sex At Dawn) was released today on his podcast “Tangentially Speaking.” Most people seem to dig it so far. Check it out if you haven’t yet:

http://chrisryanphd.com/tangentially-speaking/2014/8/10/85-ceara-lynch-humiliatrix

The Product of Your Fantasies

I had a recent conversation on niteflirt with a guy named Shane who had cuckolding fantasies. He told me about his girlfriend, Kim, who dumped him for another man and how often he thought about them having sex. His voice was slightly effeminate and kind.

I told him to look at my picture as he talked to me and then began describing what were undoubtedly both his fears and arousals: Kim’s new boyfriend was bigger than him, more skilled sexually, more confident, more masculine, et cetera. I described a scenario where he was locked in a small cage in a room, chained from the inside, his small swollen cock locked in chastity. He’d been in there for hours before Kim walks in with her lover.

Shane’s heart skips a beat as sweat drips from his temples. The two of them are drunk on lust as they start to tear off their clothes right there in front of him; like he’s not even there. They are completely fixated on each other. Shane watches in shame as Kim looks at her lover in a way that she’s never looked at him. In a way that no woman ever will. Shane is just another living example of the inadequacy so many women waste their time with before they learn better.

Her lover bends her over on top of the cage, her face is now inches away from his, staring directly at him for the first time. Her face looks sweet, but unsympathetic. She resents him. Every day that she remained faithful to him was a day she missed out on earth-shattering sexual pleasure. Shane spent much of their relationship in fear of her discovering how much better she could have it. Now she knows and she’ll never go back.

Her lover slides his engorged cock into her dripping pussy and her eyes roll in the back of her head as she loses herself. Once again, Shane is invisible. Her genuine (and therefor unfamiliar) moans pierce his ears as her cum splashes and glistens against the bars of the cage.

“She’s punishing you, Shane” I tell him. “Just like your punishing yourself right now; paying me $4/min to tell you all of this.”

Shane’s sighs. His voice has changed to a meek whimper. His heart sounds heavy as he cums.

La petite mort.

He takes only a moment to recover until his normal voice returns. The realities of the fantasy both fuel a powerful orgasm and leave a lingering sadness afterwards. He is eager to talk his way out of it. “After care” as they call it in BDSM circles. It’s not my strong suite. But Shane takes the lead by shifting the attention onto me.

“Do you really get off on this or is it just for the money?” He asks.

Ah, this question.

It would be foolish not to acknowledge that there’s an element of fantasy in all forms of sex work. Women get paid to reflect back the thoughts of their customers and most adopt the strategy of sticking to that fantasy 100% so long as they’re on the clock. I feel a little conflicted about this at times. On the one hand, I’m sure it’s the most lucrative way to go. On the other, I think it can do a disservice by confusing some of men of the reality of women and their sexualities (as if they weren’t confused enough.)

“Do you really want to know the answer to that?” I ask him in a voice completely void of sensuality.

“Yes, I really do.” He says sincerely.

For better or worse, I tell him the truth.

“I do it for the money.”

I figure he already spooged, so I may as well.

But Shane can’t accept this answer. To him, I’m simply “too good” to do it “just” for money. The knowledge and skill it took for me to cut right to the core of his darkest fantasies could only come from someone who shared similar thoughts and desires.. right?

I hesitate to admit this because it’s a buzzkil, but here it goes:

I have no intrinsic desire to tell a perfectly nice guy that no woman wants to fuck him, tear open his heart, pour salt in his wounds, strike every nerve I can find and then demand that he cums.

I do it because I get paid. A lot.

Further more, I have no intrinsic desire to let my feet get smelly and rub in on someone’s face.. or use their mouth as a toilet.. or shrink them down to the size of an ant and eat them.. or turn a straight guy bi.. or make them cum on a shoe and then lick it off.. or whatever other crazy ass shit some men are too scared to admit to their wives.

I could never have come up with any of it on my own. But yes, I’ve have a pretty good handle on how to talk to guys who like these sorts of things because I’ve been talking to them for a long time.

Over the years I’ve taken thousands of phone calls from guys like Shane and done even more cam sessions. Of the thousands of videos I’ve created roughly half are from custom requests coming from overly detailed emails about what the client beats off to. When I’m not getting paid to listen to (and make something of) these fantasies, guys bombarde me with them anyway. For nothing. Simply out of desperate hope that I’ll acknowledge them in some way.

If there’s one thing I know about men, it’s that they love to tell beautiful women of little consequence their darkest fantasies.

It’s one of the greatest things about this line of work: there’s an abundance of free knowledge and training. All you have to do is appear to be female on the internet and you’ll have no shortage of guys telling you what makes them tick. Tweak your image to appear dominant, say you specialize in fetishes, and the messages you get will get weirder and a little more complex, but not without predictable patterns that can be learned over time. Before you know it, customers think you’re a fucking mind reader.

That’s the irony of being a good domme: the good ones listen and do what they’re told.

Shane conceded my point, but still couldn’t believe I didn’t derive some pleasure from it. How else could I possibly be drawn to this type of work?

I actually do take pleasure from my work. It’s just not the same type of pleasure my customers get from it. This seems to be a hard idea for some guys to wrap their head around. Once they hear a woman use the word “work” or “job” in conjunction with sexual services, it’s assumed that she must hate it.

I don’t hate my job. I love it. I have a lot of reasons to; the most obvious being the substantial amount of money I make. It’s afforded me advantages most people spend their entire lives earning. On top of that, I work for myself which means I don’t have report to anyone. I work when I want for however long I want. My time is my own.

My job is also fun. It allows me to be creative and work with some of the most private and uniquely intimate desires of men who otherwise keep them hidden and diligently guarded. It’s special and fascinating.

A lot of people enter the adult industry thinking what a dream it must be to get paid to do what they’d be doing anyway. I can’t speak for anyone else (I’m sure that works out for some) but it would have never worked for me. I feel better off keeping my sexuality for myself. Recreational sex looks a lot different from porn sex so to monetize my sexuality would mean to lose a part of it in favor of my audience and my income. That sacrifice is too great. I prefer to monetize yours.

Shooting SEX//NOW Ep. 2

Yesterday the production crew from HBO’s SEX//NOW flew out for a full day of filming for their 2nd episode. It went great. The crew consisted of director Chris Moukarbel, cinematographer Luke Gilford, and Eric “the sound guy.”

For those of you who don’t know: SEX//NOW is a modern reboot of the popular 90’s show Real Sex, focusing primarily on how the internet has changed sex work and culture. I was visually sprinkled throughout the pilot episode about vanilla cam girls, but it didn’t talk much about myself or my particular niche. They promised that if the series got picked up they’d do the following episode focusing primarily on fetish, femdom, and humiliation with me as the primary subject. Luckily it did.

[Eric, Chris, and Luke setting up in my studio]

I was hesitant last year when Chris asked me to be a part of the show. I had no idea what his vision was or how he planned on portraying the adult industry. Everything he told me sounded good, but who’s to say he wasn’t telling me what I wanted to hear? In mainstream media, women in the business are normally portrayed as tragic victims, kinky people are typically laid out like a freak show. But I decided to take the chance anyway. I was happy to breath a sigh of relief when I first watched the pilot episode; not only was it well put together and beautifully shot, it had a message of female empowerment I could get behind.

The day before shooting, Chris and Luke came by to chat about some potential set ups they had in mind. They wanted to get contrasting footage of me doing my normal, everyday-girl thing with shots of me as the internet femdom extraordinaire that I (also) am. Above is a shot from a great scene where I’m wearing a sweet sun dress while washing lube off my black latex gloves and talking about the time I financially dominated a guy out of 10k in a matter of 2 hours.

Later we headed to the mall to get some public shots. Yeah, I don’t *normally* take calls and do cam as I’m out shopping, but it makes for good TV. Here’s a picture of Eric setting up my mic just before I told a guy on niteflirt how to jerk off with his “girlfriend’s” panties as I browsed through dresses in Macy’s.

Later that day, back at home, we took some beauty shots. So soft, so serene.. So feminine. This will be especially stunning with the audio overlay of me telling some guy how his life is worthless and his penis is garbage.

At the end of the day I had a cam session with one of my semi-regulars. He was all excited to be a part of the show (and pay for the honor of course.) What greater dream for a sub with a boner for public humilition? He was all ready with a pig mask and thick black marker to write “I love Ceara” all over his flabby, ugly body. After a bit of taunting and had him take off his mask for all the world to see. (Hi mom!)

After about 10 hours of shooting, that was a wrap. I was surprised how quickly and smoothly the day went by. I miss these boys already!

Look out for the second episode airing around January 2015.

http://instagram.com/sexnowhbo

http://instagram.com/digitalperm

http://instagram.com/lucasgilford

Ismail

Someone came crawling back recently.

I just picked up $900 he wired to me via Western Union this afternoon.

He’s of my oldest and wealthiest on-again-off-agains. I find him annoying for the most part and when you have the lack of patience and abundance of clip money that I do, subs are rarely consistent or loyal. Which is fine. It allows them to slut around with other dommes and allows me to take break from babysitting their needy penises

His name is Ismail and he had been begging me a lot lately for cam time. For the most part I really haven’t been in the mood to do cam so much, but yesterday my greediness got the best of me and I decided to indulge him. $500 for the first 30 mins. Much higher than my usual rate. Because I can.

Ismail has fantasies about me being the femme fatal catalyst that ruins his life. Someone who seduces him from his wife, his money and his religion; then turns him into a full service toilet and cum eating cuckold (you know, the usual.) Every time I talk to him he passionately insists how “serious” he is this time. How badly he wants to “go deep” and have me and “fuck up his brain.” When I suggest something relatively tame like eating his own cum, he finds an excuse not to.

30 minutes turned into a little over an hour. $1200 plus another $500 to send him the thong I was wearing. Our cam shows consist of me nodding along to his fantasies, echoing back what I know he wants to hear and then showing him my ass as he prays to it like a God. The latter part annoying because it means I have to sit up, but nice because it gives me a chance to text my friends and check twitter.

I’ve decided I’m going to start giving Ismail some more personal, dedicated attention from now on. I don’t believe he’ll follow through with any of his more taboo fantasies, besides parting with copious amounts of his money, but that’s no reason not to cast some high octane femdom voodoo on him and see where it goes.

SEX//NOW Ep. 2

June 23-26th the producers of HBO’s SEX//NOW will be at my house shooting for their second episode all about fetish and humiliation. They’ve chosen to feature me as one of the main subjects.

They’ve asked me if any subs might be interested in being involved so they can capture footage of what it’s like to serve me on cam (NOT IN PERSON.)

This could be the ultimate opportunity for anyone with a true public humiliation fetish!

If you are interested, email contact@cearalynch.com with the following info:

1. What fetishes you’re into

2. What you’re willing to do on cam (the crazier the better.)

Masks are okay, but better without. You will need to sign a release and be available on Skype sometime during the dates listed above.

SERIOUS inquiries only. This is HBO, bitches!

Lynch 2.0

https://www.cearalynch.com