I’ve had a successful career as an artist and thousands follow my professional accounts on social media. My followers think they know me, but I am living a secret double life. What I’ve kept hidden is that I’m bisexual. I have hidden this fact from everyone: from my followers, from my family, and from the three ladies who married me believing I was the straight guy I pretended to be. All my marriages failed, ending in divorce with no children produced, thank God, and my ex-wives all went on to find real men who could father their children.
In 2016, knowing my success and investments meant I could live comfortably for the rest of my life, I quit my career in the arts and fulfilled a lifelong dream of becoming a hardcore gay porn slut. (“Slut” fits me much more closely than does “actor,” since what I do on...
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...losely than does “actor,” since what I do on camera is not an “act.”) I truly love the hot sex I’ve had with Alpha Males in the 250ish videos I’ve starred in so far. Truly, my only regret is not doing porn much sooner in my life, as I’m happier now than I’ve ever been.
Question: Should I continue pretending to be straight and keep the people who still follow me on Facebook and Instagram in the dark? Or should they be advised to google my full and actual birth name and the word “porn” so they can see the real me? (My full legal name and my professional name — as both an artist and porn slut — are the same.) I don’t want anyone’s life to be negatively impacted should it become known they follow a person who appears in hardcore porn and does things most people would regard as offensive and grotesque. It seems best that followers who are interested in my art be advised to google me so they are aware of what I am doing now and can unfollow me if they wish.
If you want to include my full legal name in your column, I’ll most likely say yes. And please feel free to give me hell because I understand the things I let men do to me are vile and disgusting.
[Full Legal Name Redacted]
I have no desire to publish your name.
But rest assured, FLNR, that I fell for it: I googled your name and the word “porn.” I was negatively impacted by what I saw, and I will always regret it. (Gotta work on my impulse control.) The porn you’re making is, as confessed/advertised, vile and disgusting and grotesque and offensive. It’s also not illegal and can be enjoyed by consenting adults… who hopefully floss, brush their teeth, use mouthwash, and don’t kiss their mothers with those mouths. (Relieved I don’t have to alert the authorities. The health department, on the other hand…)
Look, I know what you’re trying to do here. You chose to do porn under your own name, the same name you used as an artist — your legal name, your professional name, and your porn name are all the same — because the thought of being exposed and ruined turns you on. Almost as much as the thought of ruining someone else’s day by tricking them into taking a look at your work. (I only saw the titles, FLNR, but that was enough.) But what you want most is to be exposed and destroyed — that’s your ultimate fantasy — and you’ve been fantasizing about the moment you would be found out and destroyed since you posted your first video.
And here you are, 250 videos later, and no one who follows your non-porn work — no one who has admired or collected your art — has stumbled over your vast archive of vile and disgusting and grotesque and offensive porn. Maybe if your pornographic output was a little more mainstream, maybe if yours was a taste shared by more than a tiny handful of people, you would’ve been found out and destroyed already. But the porn you make is so niche — and so vile and so disgusting, etc., etc. — that not one of your followers has stumbled over it. Or stepped in it. And even if one had, FLNR, he couldn’t jump into a comments thread on your Instagram to tell on you without also telling on himself. This is stuff you only find because you were looking for it.
So, now you want me to do your dirty work for you… you want me to inflict your porn on my readers in the hope it’ll get back to your followers… and I’m not gonna do that to my readers.
Or to you.
And if you thought about it during your refractory period, FLNR, you wouldn’t want me to. As things stand now, you get to enjoy the dread of discovery and destruction every single moment of every single day. You get to enjoy your perfect fantasies about how the inevitable shitstorm — or what you thought was an inevitable shitstorm, 250 videos ago — will destroy your life and reputation and artistic legacy in a single, perfect, fappable moment. But like Bernd Brandes, a German man whose ultimate fantasy was to be murdered by a cannibal after first having his own penis cut off, cooked, and served to him, you may find reality falls short of your fantasies. In Brandes’ case, the cannibal he met online in 2001, Armin Meiwes, wasn’t a very good cook. Meiwes overcooked Brandes’ penis, which wound up being too tough to eat, and since Brandes didn’t have another penis, a do-over wasn’t possible. He died disappointed.
Just like Brandes had only one dick, you have only one life. There will be no do-overs for you either. So, you’re better off as you are now – enjoying your perfect fantasies about your destruction, over and over, rather than enduring the sure-to-be-a-letdown reality — and that’s how I intend to leave you.
P.S. Your kinks are just as vile and disgusting and grotesque and offensive as advertised — but I’m not going to give you hell for them. First, because no one chooses their kinks and, second, because disgust is obviously part of the turn-on for you and I’m not here to cup your balls. (And to be clear, bisexuality isn’t a kink and it’s not the kink FLNR is talking about.) If you want to warn people to unfollow and/or de-acquisition your work to avoid being smeared by association, you can do that without suggesting they google your name + porn. You can pretend to be motivated by concern for your followers all you like, FLNR, but I’m not swallowing that shit.
[Update: I asked ChatGPT to answer FLNR’s question “in the style of sex-advice columnist Dan Savage.” You can read the AI bot’s response here. And then let me know what you think: Do I need to worry about being replaced by a bot? Or is my job safe for now?]
Etiquette question. I started seeing a massage guy about a year ago after connecting with him on Scruff (“not here for sex but if you want a great massage…”). He turned out to be terrific at it. First couple times I got incredible deep and thorough massages; paid him for the time; and added a tip, all good. Then — and with no words exchanged — the massages started getting sexual. Now I get a brief massage and then his fingers start tickling butt and we end up fucking. He’s totally hot and great at it, always gets me off within the hour session. (He never gets off but is totally hard and enthusiastic the entire time.) We don’t have any interaction outside the sessions, aside from texts setting up the next time. No complaints about the sex at all, it’s great, but I miss the massages! Somehow this relationship went from a massage deal to sex work. (HTH?!?) So, my question: I’ve never hired a sex worker before. How much does a person tip a sex worker? And any ideas how can I steer the relationship back to more pounding of muscles without giving up the pounding of butt? Thanks!
Loving His Dick, Missing His Hands
How did this arrangement go from a massage deal to sex work? How’d that happen? Your “massage guy” did it.
Your massage guy is a sex worker but a choosy one. He looks for prospective clients on hookup apps, offers “massage-only” meetups at first, and once he has a good feeling about someone — someone who respects his initial “massage-only” boundary, shows up freshly showered, and tips well (20-25%), e.g., someone like you — your massage guy “upgrades” his new-ish client from massage (not what most guys are seeking on Scruff) to dick (what all guys are seeking on Scruff). If you miss his massages, LHDMHH, book an extra hour and use your words. (“Love your excellent dick, miss your amazing massages!”) Then you can have it all! (“All,” in this instance, is defined as “good massage + expert dicking.”)
I’ve been with my boyfriend since COVID. We were sexually incompatible from the start (both bottoms), but made it work due to the pandemic. Then I blinked and three years passed. We live together and I love him. But it just feels like a comfortable nice life as opposed to being “in love.” And we never had that hot passionate start to fall back on or feel nostalgic about. I wonder if the end of the pandemic means it’s time to move on. I’m 41 years old and feel life can offer more. Am I being short-sighted in wanting more?
Somewhat Unfulfilled Bottom
Two bottoms can have hot and passionate sex. I mean, are there no double-ended dildos in Gilead? Are there no tops in your vicinity, single and coupled, willing to guest star? Are oral sex and/or mutual masturbation not a good time?
Look, finding someone you love and enjoy living with isn’t easy, SUB, so you owe it to yourself to give this relationship a chance. I get it, I get it: you’ve been together for three years, you’ve already given this a relationship a chance. But it doesn’t sound like you’ve given radical honesty a chance. (“We have to fix this or it’s over.”) You don’t wanna wake up five years from now in a no-longer-new relationship with someone you don’t love. Even if you had managed to have a lot of hot sex with that person at the start, SUB, nostalgia for great sex with someone you don’t love (as much or at all) is unlikely to sustain you through the decades between the NRE wearing off and death. Whereas making space in the loving relationship you’re already in — space for passionate sexual experiences together and/or with others (on your own or both) — could be all the sustenance you need.
It’s fine to want more, SUB, but before seeking more from someone else, ask for more from the someone you’ve already got.
Send your question right here on Savage.Love.
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