Someone Finally Called Me a Whore

It's no big secret that last year, when I turned 27, I decided to change my life. I wanted to live with no expectations and I succeeded. I came into my own life; I fell in love with my body, found my sexuality, and I had sex with some people. I mean, I literally tripled the amount of people I had slept with last year. I joined into my local BDSM community where I would proceed to get naked, beaten, battered, and degraded in public. I'd soon learn that I would be a cumming little slut all the time, too.

And what do I do with all that experience?

I write about it. I blog and share my experiences with readers from all over the state, country, and world. And then, people ask me questions about their own sexuality and I get to answer them. Because now I am a conduit for information and exploration.

And I love this about me. I love that I am proud of my sexuality. I love that I am identified and known by a name I chose, Sabina. And when I wanted to make that more, add more to it, I took a last name, Harlot. Sabina Harlot... Sabina the Whore. Why does this have to be bad?

Why is the word whore so bad?

It isn't. It is only as bad as the power I give it. And so I'm reclaiming it. In fact, I am bringing back the antiquated word, Harlot. Because why not add a little flare?

I like my name, I like my identity and I decided to implement and brand that with my blog as the actual author. So I made a blogger facebook page. I did this because I'm a dreamer and I want to take this somewhere. I want big things in life.

So why, if I'm proud to be who I am and am a self-claimed Harlot, did it piss me off so bad that someone** called me a whore? "Whore simply doesn't fit the vision I had for Sabina..."

It wasn't that he called me a whore.

It was that he thought he got to choose who I am supposed to be. NO! I get to chose that because it is my life, my sex life, and these are my friends and my partners. He doesn't know them, barely knows me, and he doesn't get to chose who Sabina is.

I get to live this life once and only once. You get to you live your's, too. I'm going to shout it from the rooftops about the sex that I had if I want to. I'm going to erase the idea that women can't embrace their sexuality because damn it, we get notches on our bedposts, too!

**For the record, this wasn't a random stranger. This was someone I know closely and intimately and value with my life. I could give two fucks less what a stranger thinks.

When Stella Got Her Group On

When I first mentioned that I had tumbled my way into a threesome, you guys were on fire with questions about details, suggestions, and so on. I got to talk to some of you one on one about it, but now there is more. More spice, more people, more a little bit of everything.

And while I can say it was fun/exciting, I was with people I love and find undeniably sexy, the idea of group sex, I have found it lacking. I give up on trying to figure out how things happen any more, I've said this so many times I can't count anymore, but that's because it is true.

Life is pretty fun when you're seeing a couple on a regular basis. They make your heart happy. You care about them. And sex is always a thrill ride. And that's how it started...us. But our us suddenly became more. And while I had my totally vain moment of "it's all about me" because that is what happens when I am with a new partner, our three became four.

And what a trip. This was a scene that someone who sexplores wants; the one straight out of porn. You know, the one where everyone is handsy, fetishy, and fucking? But still, something kept nagging at me, and that is because I had lost my physical connection with one of the people. When there are three people, I can touch everyone; I can kiss and cuddle and snugglefuck with both people at the same time in some form or fashion. When there are more than three, I lose that. It is a division of labor where there are two couples and very little cross pollination. That is one of my favorite parts of sex, is being touchy feel with my partners. Touching them, and having them touch me. And that is why I need it, that is why this lost just a little bit of appeal for me; but you live, you learn, yolo.

I hate myself for saying that.

But the part that isn't just "hey I did this", is that I want to make sure people realize that there is a responsible way to be reckless. There is a breaking point where you stop and make those sane and rational decisions in these heated moment. You still make sure to ask for consent, you make sure protection is available and used, you make sure you ask all the right questions (i.e. Are you drug and disease free?).