Pleasure Mechanics

  • Start Here
  • Podcast
  • Sessions
  • Online Courses
  • Index

Healing Sex

If you are a survivor of sexual abuse, sexual assault or sexual trauma and want to reclaim your experience of your body, your sexuality and your ability to experience pleasure, you are not alone.

Top Recommended Resource for Survivors:

Healing Sex by Staci Haines

Chris Maxwell Rose, founder of PleasureMechanics.com, is a survivor of child sexual abuse, multiple teenage rapes and other forms of harm and violence. It is a main reason this site exists: Chris experienced multiple forms of sexual violence and has dedicated herself to helping to change sex culture from one of abuse and fear to one of celebration and reverence. Below are some of her thoughts and advice for anyone looking to heal from sexual trauma and live a sex life of their own choosing.

Sex for Survivors

from Chris of PleasureMechanics.com

Right now, as you read this, we live in a global culture of sexual violence. Whatever happened to you is part of that global culture, and it is our legacy inherited down from centuries of even more violence and oppression. But that sex culture is changing – it was not too long ago that most sexual abuse was not even acknowledged as  an issue, but rather part and parcel to other systems of oppression. So the fact is, sex culture changes constantly, and we all influence it with our own lived sexuality.

For us survivors of sexual abuse, that begins with shedding the ongoing violence of what happened to us (make no mistake, until the trauma is resolved the violence is still very much at work in your body!) and rewire our systems back to a state of sexual pleasure and agency.

The truth is: the work it takes to undo sexual trauma is the same work we all must to do be sexually healthy beings. Us survivors have more baggage to sort through, layers of trauma to undo, and more “unlearning” to do than our peers who have not experienced sexual trauma. That is the bad news: there is work to be done, it isn’t clean or easy, and it takes time and effort in your life. That is part of the impact your abuse has had on your life, and you can either own it and do the work, or ignore it and live under the influence of your trauma forever. Many choose not to do the work – and for some people some of the time that is the best choice.

It is my belief that most of us want to heal, want to experience a sexuality that is not colored by our abuse. We want a sexuality of our own making, guided by our own values and desires. Most importantly, we want to end the cycles of abuse that hurt us.

I experienced multiple forms of sexual violence, starting before I was six and extending well into my twenties. I think this is true for many of us who were abused as very young children: boundaries are evaporated so young they never get established, and my sense of what was normal and acceptable included a tremendous range of abuse. Someday, I plan on telling the story of what happened to me all those years, from getting in the wrong car as a little girl to be grabbed on the streets of Venice as a teen, from date rape in frat houses to being driven to abandoned parking lots in quiet beach towns. Like so many men and women, one trauma led to another and I broke the cycle only through sheer will and hope.

When I moved to San Francisco after college to forge my path as an independent sex educator, I had no idea that my first job would include massage training. My mentor Annie Sprinkle hooked me up with my first job, working alongside Joseph Kramer, Ph.D. Founder of the Body Electric School and pioneer of erotic massage, Joseph welcomed me to the world of somatic sex education: where sex is taught not through charts and diagrams, but rather through the direct experience of the body. Think erotic massage classes with twelve men on massage table receiving simultaneous penis massage – I was the teacher in the center of the room. Think “masturbation coaching” sessions, breath rituals and blindfolded trance dances. For five years I worked with the most esteemed teachers in the field, and taught graduate level sexology programs at the Institute for Advanced Study of Human Sexuality. I have since parted ways with that tribe, bringing everything I learned from my studies and work to the online sex education I do with Charlotte as The Pleasure Mechanics. But as my career as a sex teacher was taking off, something else happened along the way.

I healed my body of the trauma of my sex abuse. I went from almost totally numb to highly sensitive and orgasmic. I went from having painful cramps after every single orgasm to pain free. I learned how to stay present and feel pleasure. I learned how to say “yes” and “no” again – and how to figure out what I wanted in the first place. I ended a lifetime sugar addiction, lost thirty pounds and discovered joy in dancing and swimming. I fell in love! I woke up to the beauty and wonder of my body. All without a single talk therapy session, pharmaceutical drugs or  medical intervention of any kind. It all happened as a byproduct of learning a few simple physical skills that, when practiced regularly and paired with authentic emotional honesty with yourself, works wonders.

These transformative physical practices – touch, breathing and movement – are so deceptively simple it is easy to dismiss them. And yet, perhaps they hold the key of what so many of us survivors need – a path back to safety, comfort and relaxation in our own skins. It is my goal to create resources that make these practices within reach of anyone who wants to heal trauma and experience more pleasure.

I would love to hear from anyone who has read this far! Email me through the secure form here and share your story, what has worked for you, what you are struggling with, what questions you may have.

“You are stronger than what happened to you” – Staci Haines

May we work together towards a world without sexual violence, and may the root of that work be healing our own bodies with the incredible power of pleasure.

Chris, PleasureMechanics.com

Best of #PornHasTaughtMe

#PornHasTaughtMe that our hearing senses are amplified when you fear being caught

— Polo (@MrPolo_) July 30, 2012

#PornHasTaughtMe no matter what you look like, no matter what you like, someone somewhere is totally into that too.

— Dr Brooke Magnanti (@bmagnanti) July 30, 2012

#PornHasTaughtMe How to Listen for and accurately determine the distance of an Approaching footstep

— Dicka (@iDIKher) July 30, 2012

#PornHasTaughtMe this cool new position called ‘buffering’ where you stop and freeze mid-performance, and then proceed as normal

— Lila (@dishwasher_babe) July 30, 2012

#PornHasTaughtMe that all these women look like amateurs! Move over love.

— Lauren ♥ (@blueeyedbetty) July 30, 2012

#PornHasTaughtMe sexual education for me and my future husband in bed

— Huwaida Nassier (@huwaidanassier) July 30, 2012

#PornHasTaughtMe that we still haven’t evolved particularly far away from bonobos.

— John Yossarian (@Hungry_Joe) July 30, 2012

Erotica for Women

Erotica is read by women all around the world, and has been part of human sexuality for centuries. From the first cave paintings to the kindle craze of Fifty Shades of Grey, human beings have used the technology available to them to express and explore sexuality.

The best erotica is often based in fantasy, and transports the reader to a new world where anything is possible. Fantasy is an essential part of human sexuality, allowing us the freedom and catharsis to explore and be aroused by situations we would never want in our real lived lives. This need for fantasy extends way beyond sex – think about how many of your favorite books, movies and shows are fantasies at heart!

People who love action movies or superheroes don’t problematize their interest in the fantasy world. Yet somehow we give ourselves permission to watch action movies and enjoy the car chases and explosions, but when we read erotic fantasies many of us are worried about being aroused by fantasies – even though we wouldn’t want to be on a pirate ship in real life any more than we’d want to be in a high speed car chase. The idea of it is exciting, the reality might be devastating. Fantasy gives us this alternate reality where anything is possible, there are no limits and we are free to imagine and be aroused by our creative visions.

Compilations of short stories are useful because they allow you to sample a wide range of voices, scenarios and characters without the time investment of a whole novel. Many women report, however, that they enjoy going on a journey with the main character of erotica, and find short stories limited in the emotional intimacy department. Do you prefer long epic trilogies or quickie short stories? Let us know in the comments.

Here is some of our favorite erotica for women. Know about great books you want to share? Let us know in the comments or get in touch privately!

Best Erotica Series for Women

The Sleeping Beauty Series by Anne Rice writing as A.N. Roquelaure (The Claiming of Sleeping Beauty, Beauty’s Punishment and Beauty’s Release)

The Fifty Shades Series by E.L. James (Fifty Shades of Grey, Fifty Shades Darker and Fifty Shades Freed)

 

Best Erotica Books for Women

The Story of O by Pauline Reage (a classic, almost old-fashioned, which only adds to the charm!)

Delta of Venus by Anaïs Nin (also be sure to read her diaries, for a complete training in sensual and passionate living!)

Spring Into Summer by Eden Baylee (four short erotica novellas from one of the best contemporary erotic fiction authors)

Best Erotica Short Stories for Women

The Best Women’s Erotica Series Edited by Violet Blue

Best Sex Writing 2012: The State of Today’s Sexual Culture Edited by Rachel Kramer Bussel and Susie Bright

Five Minute Erotica Edited by Carol Queen

Macho Sluts by Pat Califia (A classic in the field, featuring very heavy lesbian bdsm!)

Gay Erotica? Fireman Erotica? Fetish Erotica? Cleis Press has you covered with a “Best Of” anthology covering a big range of interests!

On Our Nightstand To Read:

Slammed by Colleen Hoover

 

 

 

 

We’d love to hear your votes for the best erotica for women –  be in touch with your recommendations!

The Claiming of Sleeping Beauty

If you have just finished Fifty Shades of Grey and are wondering what to read next, or are just looking for your next hot erotica trilogy, all roads lead to The Claiming of Sleeping Beauty, a trilogy by the incredible Anne Rice. Originally published under the pen name A.N. Roquelaure, this series has just been released in an all new edition, just in time to satiate eager Fifty Shades fans!

I first discovered this series as a teenager, and have read it dozens of times over the years. No matter how many times I revisit it, I fall in love with Beauty all over again and her epic erotic journey never fails to arouse and inspire me.

The Claiming of Sleeping Beauty opens just like the classic fairy tale. Sleeping Beauty is under a spell, and her prince comes to her rescue, waking her not with a kiss but with ravishment. In this moment, right at the beginning of the first book, we know we are in a whole new world with our heroine. The prince “claims” her completely, and whisks her off into a world of sex slaves, heavy BDSM and spectacular erotic rituals. We as readers are immediately immersed in a fantasy world, where along with Beauty we can be seduced by the extreme pleasures and proclivities of the wicked Prince, the Queen and their imaginary kingdom, where every prince and princess receives rigorous training in sexual submission.

What is so amazing about this series is the complete fantasy of it. Anne Rice understands fantasy and elevates every sensual detail until the reader is transported to another world all together, where anything is possible and we have permission to be turned on by the extremes and intensity.

The world of fantasy is an essential part of the human erotic imagination, and all too often we blur the line between fantasy and desire. When we read vampire novels we allow ourselves to be transported to that fantasy world, without worrying about if we actually want to be the living undead in real life. We must allow ourselves the same freedom with erotic fantasy. The Claiming of Sleeping Beauty allows us to make the leap into the sex-saturated castles and, just like our heroine, we can find ourselves aroused at the cruel prince, the powerful Queen, the indignities of Beauty’s punishment. In this fantasy world that Anne Rice so beautifully weaves for us, our sexuality is free to be aroused and inspired, and in that freedom is an erotic liberation that can change your sex life in a very real way.

Each book in the Sleeping Beauty series by Anne Rice is a new experience, exploring a new terrain of turn-on. In the second book of the series, Beauty’s Punishment we are transported away from the castle down to the village, where all new erotic adventures are possible. Instead of lavish garden parties with naked servants we find Beauty being spanked with a bread board, chained up in the town square for all to see, and violated by rough hands at the tavern.

The third book, Beauty’s Release, has always been my personal favorite. Beauty is swept away by an exotic sultan and we are transported to a world with new flavors of sensual detail and sexual debauchary. In the fragant halls of the sultan’s palace Beauty experiences the final chapter of her sexual training, and we are treated to scenes with golden body paint, harems of exotic beauties and hands down the hottest sex scenes in the trilogy.

Be forewarned: the themes of Dominance and submission, of physical brutality and painful pleasures are way more intense in Sleeping Beauty than Fifty Shades. No detail is spared as every orifice of our princess is used and abused. Household objects take on new meaning as the characters are beaten, penetrated and stimulated with everything from jeweled swords to thorny roses. The sex is heavy, and the BDSM is otherworldly.

What gives us the freedom to enjoy such brutality is the masterful writing of Anne Rice, who so fully transports us into a fantasy world where anything is possible, giving us the temporary freedom to enjoy such a brutal world, and then happily return to our ordinary world of sexuality, inspired and aroused but with a clear sense of coming home to a safer and saner world of sexual ecstasy.

More of the Best Erotica for Women

 

Tabula Rasa

 

Part 1: Prelude

Waking up, it takes me a moment to remember where I am, what room I am in, what time zone. I stretch out, finding the cool patches of the soft white hotel sheets, running the fabric against my smooth legs. I arc and stretch my body, and find that I am deliciously sore, that full body feeling of being well used that I have only experienced after crazy workouts and amazing sex. I could get used to this, I think to myself as I pull myself out of the giant bed and find my way to the bathroom.

Flipping on the light switch, I am shocked by the flood of light. The huge mirror, sparkling white tile and cold floor are all pristine, polished and dazzling in the light. And there, in the middle of it all, reflected back in full glory, me.

I look as ravaged as I feel, only it feels a lot sexier than it looks. My long hair is a tangle of curls framing my face in a lopsided halo. My neck is speckled with love marks – deep crimson and pale pink impressions of where my lover had bit me the night before. I poke them and feel the subtle soreness radiate down my neck, and with my fingers and eyes I trace the trail of kisses, from one side of my neck, across my collarbone and up the other side to just behind my ear. I then remember how roughly I was flipped over, and how the kisses continued on my shoulders, down my spine. Pivoting, I study my shoulders and back in the mirror, and like a brush losing ink the marks trail off from the neck to shoulders. Those bites felt just as deep and penetrating at the time, but I suppose those parts don’t show marks as easily. My eyes fall to my butt and I gasp out loud. This I hadn’t expected.

The round fleshiness of my ass is a riot of colors, and I can even make out a hand print, the five fingers perfectly imprinted on my flesh.  Nervously, I poke at the most intense purple bruise and flinch. I remember well my ass up in the air, feeling my lover’s  hands rain down upon my again and again. At the time, it hadn’t hurt very much, it just felt hot and thunderous, strangely relieving and I just kept asking for more, more, more until my head was buried in the pillow, one of my lover’s hand fucking me as the other continued to send waves of pleasure through my entire body with every single spank. There is no way that much pleasure could leave this kind of bruising, and yet here I was, studying my ass like a professional fighter after a brutal round in the ring. But even now, as I pinch and poke the bruises the soreness gives way to pleasure and I find myself yielding to the sensation and craving more.

Even my lips feel bruised and well used, though thankfully my face is unmarked. Changed, but unmarked. I study my features one by one, looking to pinpoint why I feel and look so different. Lips, sore and swollen. Nose, right in place. Cheeks, flushed and beaming. Eyes, staring back at me from the glittering mirror. That is where it is. The tension lines around my eyes are gone – the worry, the stress, the wrinkles that showed my age all too well, gone. I look more relaxed, happier and more vibrant than I have since I was a teenager. Why didn’t I try this years ago, I wondered, thinking about all the money wasted on tiny tubes of cream that promised eternal youth. If the way I felt and looked had anything to say, I think I have just tapped the true fountain of youth.

I brush my teeth while the shower is heating up. The room quickly begins filling with steam, and by the time I am under the hot stream of water the room is hot and steamy, pearls of moisture collecting on the white tile walls. I stand directly under the huge showerhead so water pours from the top of my head, gushing down my face and splashing around my toes. Immersed, I luxuriate in the heat and keep my mind focused on the pleasures of last night instead of worrying what will happen next in the light of day. I have done my time on the road in cheap motels, where I wore sandals in scuzzy showers and was careful not to touch anything. Now that I can afford to stay at the finest hotels, I luxuriate in it. The grand lobbies and huge rooms don’t matter to me. But the amazing sheets and bright clean bathrooms make me swoon every time. I reconfirm my sensual snobbiness as I wrap a huge fluffy white towel around my chest, loving how the thick terry feels on my sore ass and sensitive nipples. Nothing like the scratchy little towels you get at lesser hotels. No wonder they sell these in the gift shop – an invitation to take the luxury of the place home. As I walk out to the bedroom and draw the curtains, eyeing the huge bed and tangled sheets, I wonder about what other pleasures I might be able to take home with me.

The city is bathed in beautiful morning light, and I watch the little cars start and stop up the avenues as the tiny people scurry in and out of buildings. As I lean forward to take in the view, my breasts graze the cold glass and I shudder. Last night, pressed against this very window, everything was so different. The city was dark and anonymous, streaks of headlights and flickering signs looked as far away as the stars. I was pressed into this window, shuddering in fear, ready to call it all off and run for my life. I remember the weight of the body behind me, pinning me to the glass, the warm breath on my neck, the hands gripping my hips.

“Tell me you want this” 

“Just say yes” 

“All you need to do is let go” 

Between each invitation, kisses, hands confidently gripping my hips, resting just so on the edges of my curves, inviting me to sway into the touch. The urgency of my arousal was alarming, and I was so ready to run.

Now, in the light of day, I can see my handprints on the window, where I had placed both palms flat against the glass and pushed as hard as I can. I had made a deal with myself. No turning back, I told myself. Either shatter this glass and jump, and die a curious woman, or close your eyes and do what you came here to do. I pressed into that glass with all my strength and it didn’t budge, so all that was left to do was close my eyes, move my hips in a seductive circle and say a few simple words.

“Yes. Yes I want this.”

 

 

 

  • « Previous Page
  • 1
  • …
  • 142
  • 143
  • 144
  • 145
  • 146
  • …
  • 162
  • Next Page »
  • Start Here
  • Podcast
  • Sessions
  • Online Courses
  • Index
  • About Us
  • Speaking of Sex Podcast
  • Online Courses
  • Affiliate Program

Return to top of page