Epectase #6

Epectase was born from a desire to bring together various approaches, reflections and visions around eroticism. A wild eroticism that does not allow itself to be enclosed in norms, labels or moral judgements. An eroticism that seeks to emancipate itself from oppressive patterns and positions of authority.

The magazine is participatory and is published every 6 months. You can send your contributions in any form. All formats and languages are accepted. The next deadline is

15.04.2023

This is a multilingual project. The original languages are printed in the printed version and the German translations are published here below.

1. Safeword blueberry.

Meeting preparation – by Sasha & Jîa

– “As a safeword I suggest we use “blueberry” and as a safety gesture two taps in a row with the hand.

So, the way I like to be touched 🙂 mmmh I’m fetish of the hands so I like when I’m touched from everywhere, with desire, with firmness, with envy, you can insert fingers everywhere, in the vulva, the anus or the mouth, but not from the anus to the vulva 😉 but it’s possible to use a hand for each hole: ) I like to be squeezed on the neck, scratched, slapped on the buttocks and chest but not on the face 🙂 in fact I think I like everything that involves hands as long as they don’t slap my face 🙂

And how do I like to suck? :)) I love sucking, really a lot, so I like everything 😂 licking greedily, massaging with my hands, savoring it in my mouth, sliding my lips over it, spitting on it, making deep throats, salivating heavily

But tell me, how do you like being sucked? :)”

– “Top for the safeword and the gesture, it suits me just fine.
And hmmm my head is suddenly getting very hot 🙂

ok I’m taking note of all that 🙂
note for the hands!

do you like being pinched too?

well i love to be sucked haha… i like to have my testicles and anus licked too, i like to have lots of saliva and to be masturbated at those times, i like to be kissed with my lips, to have a tongue run over my glans and i like very much to be sucked in deep throats, to hold the head of the person, to do facefucking.
And actually that’s how I like to suck haha :)) so it turns me on twice… because I like to feel that way, but also because it projects me on the image where it’s me doing it to someone 🙂

– “Mmmh it’s so delicious ^^ for facefucking I’m not always comfortable when someone held my head but there are other positions without hands that work just as well :))”

– “yes it’s clear, no worries about not using the hands in this case.”

– “I know a little bit what you mean, well I don’t have the feeling haha but I like to have my strap on sucked like I suck too :))

For the pinching on the nipples yes, I like it a lot”

– “yes 🙂 maybe I will discover the taste of your strap-on for our second setting 🙂
and how is it with sperm for you?”

– “Mmh 🙂 my mouth is already watering 😋”

– “haha same thing, I’m really excited :)”

– “Haha I was just about to come to that, so it depends hahaha how you manage with the condom? Beside that, I’m a big fan of mixing fluids, I like to receive the sperm in my mouth, and share it :)) or keep it just for me and swallow it 🙂 I like ejaculations on the body and face if it’s controlled because the eyes 👀 ouch 😂

Haha well to be quite honest, I’ve had my hand sliding between my legs for some times now :))”

2. If you had to explain to an alien what prostitution is, how would you do it?

From an interview with a sex worker. Available in full on the project-evasions.org website

I think I would knowingly not explain anything about prostitution to this Alien. My political view of capitalism, labor, and specifically sex work, is that in fact… everyone is a prostitute. Everyone sells their body, their time and their labor power for money.

I bet the vast majority of people wouldn’t be living the life they are living if they weren’t under economic or social constraints.

The only thing that makes prostitution different from other work is that our society has a strong moral construction of what sexuality is supposed to be. And in this social construction, sexuality should necessarily be intimate… all the time and for everyone. Whereas the rest of the work is not.

So if a person sells tickets at the movies or works in a hair salon, no one is going to think that this is sharing an intimate moment that should not be bought with money. No one is going to think it’s dirty or immoral.

And the alien here did not grow up in a such conservative environment, integrating the notion that sex is supposed to be pure and sacred. There is no main religion that says that all ejaculation should be done for the sole purpose of procreation. There may be no moral judgment applied to sexual practices between consenting persons. If that’s the case, it’s completely normal for each person to decide for himself what importance to give to his own sexuality and how to live it.

So I say to myself, I might as well spare that to this Alien. I will explain to them what work is, capitalism, class inequalities, economic constraints on our lives, pushing us to sell our time, our bodies, our resources to create value that will enrich other people. I will show them that each person is looking for a way to “earn a living” while remaining true to themself, preserving the best of themself and sometimes even finding pleasure in it. And that in this context, some people sell sexual services as a form of work. Others are forced to prostitute themselves, but at this point we are no longer talking about work, but about rape and human trafficking. That it also happens in other fields than sex work, but that it is always an oppression with social inequalities as background.

In short, to my alien friend, I will finally tell him that I have no understanding for people who criticize sex work but do not take into account a critique of work as a whole and of capitalism as a social organization. And that it seems to me a very hypocritical posture.

3. Why the Lovecraft universe excites me but not only

by Queeng_Eldey

Monsters have always fascinated me. As a kid, I used to draw them, straight out of my imagination. Many dragons, following the famous elements (water, fire, earth, air). With time, I drew more and more realistic creatures, more and more horrific. Wiry bodies, half-skull heads, skulls whose spine moved like a snake, jaws spread wide enough to swallow a newborn. Machete blades replacing hands. Blood on the gowns, often in the lower abdomen (this is certainly not a coincidence, as I have always hated my periods). Very long fingers, with talons replacing the nails. Empty eyes, except for blood and necrosis.

I unfortunately don’t draw anymore, but this sordid love never left me. It was only four years ago, when I got into Lovecraft’s writings, that I realized my admiration for horrific bestiaries of all kinds – Lovecraft is one of the most named, but of course not the only one. And recently, I discovered the “monster fuck” kink, and I realized something very disturbing… These texts (especially narrated by Tindalos) did not provoke me a simple gloomy pleasure, but a real excitement. Which, by digging a little, by letting myself go, could clearly become sexual.

No wonder that my first choice of dildo at Fera Daemon was a tentacle.

Last night I started a very kitschy documentary on the Lovecraftian bestiary and its cosmogony. I think the video is really lame but the information I got from it and the images I saw were enough to keep me watching. Add to that a playlist of contemplative, slow music, with sick violin stridations, epileptic and explosive cymbals, a muffled drum beat in the background, a death voice shouting a crazy je-ne-sais-quoi, or a black jazz and my clitoris goes wild.

I want to say that horror turns me on but the sentence would be wrong and too easily misunderstood. No, it’s not all horror – massacres, exposed organs, blood in huge quantities and that sort of thing don’t appeal to me. I don’t like the gore. I hate zombies to the core (I haven’t seen any movies with Zombies and I won’t). I like horror, well, Lovecraftian horror. This simple word should be enough to describe what I want to communicate, but I’ll try to put my finger on the details of this universe that particularly tickle me…

The dark but vast places. The weak greenish light. Or any other supernatural luminosity. The black sand of such a story. The abyss. The fear. The madness. The fear to become mad. That one speaks about depths. Of gigantism. The guttural language, like Norse or Tolkien elvish, provokes things in me. The past era (1920-1930). The helplessness. The exploration. The screams I imagine. The lack of physical violence. The sensation of suffocating. Of drowning. The slowness that has something erotic about it. The lexical richness that moves my neurons.

I also love alien invasion movies and I think that what I like about both is that they are non-terrestrial creatures and have nothing to do with humans. Humans are incredibly boring, at the same time… laughs Finally, I’m going to contradict myself with one last creature that I really like: the lycanthrope. I admit that it’s different from all the other creatures mentioned above, but I think it connects with my bestial side. And it’s the most feasible creature in games. So it’s a good thing I like it too, otherwise… It’s a bit complicated to play as Nyarlathotep…

Anyway. It’s my strangest kink and I love it.

PS: I also specify that I have no attraction for tentacles out of the context that I like. If there’s no Cthulhu behind it, there’s no point 😌

4. Still life with a twist

by Kink_Ananas

Inlé and Elio are waiting for me for dinner. It is the fourth time that the three of us see each other. We met a few weeks earlier during a wild exhibition. They are artists that I find very talented.

Very quickly, an erotic complicity was installed between us. We like to spend time together and sunbathe naked by the lake. The temperatures have suddenly dropped. Then, for the first time, I go to their place. I am looking forward to meeting them again.

I arrive breathless in front of the door of the apartment. I didn’t want to be late. I ring the bell.

Inlé opens the door with a wide smile. What a beautiful person.

A delicious smell of food fills the apartment. I take off my coat. I hug them.

Without saying a word, Elio caresses my face, runs his hand through my hair and leads me to what seems to be the dining room. A few colored candles and a canvas adorn the table. I notice that there are only two chairs and two place settings. Elio blindfolds me. My heart suddenly starts beating fast. I am feverish. I’m starting to get pretty hot.

A four-handed caressing game begins. I feel lips on my shoulders, fingers pacing my legs. Other hands undress me. I am completely naked now.

They make me advance in the room. I have lost all notion of space. A thousand ideas are running through my head and I understand as soon as I touch the table.

They lay me down gently. My whole body is filled with shivers.

I feel a warm breath on the back of my neck and then I hear Elio’s soft voice: “Are you hungry?

I answer that I am hungry for them. Elio whispers in my ear that the meal will be served soon.

Inlé and Elio sit at the table. All my senses are awake. I analyze every sound I hear. Cutlery clashing, liquid being poured into a glass – surely wine. One of them puts food on my pubic bone, on my stomach and then on my chest. It’s hot and so creamy. A thick, almost hot sauce runs down my body here and there. I am invaded by new and oh so delicious sensations.

Then on my neck, I feel a cold, wet food. The sauce drips down to the back of my neck and tickles me.

Inlé puts his finger on my mouth, opens it and puts some hot food in it. They have prepared mushroom risotto. My favorite dish. I still don’t know which food is cold on my neck.

Every time the sauce drips, a tongue licks me greedily. Both take turns making me eat. I simply open my mouth when I want more. Sometimes it’s not food they drop in but a hardened nipple or genitals as hot as the meal. I savor this unique and precious moment.

Elio thinks I’m a beautiful plate, warm and quivering from the food.

“This meal tastes so good” says Inlé.

That’s what I think too, everything has such a special flavor. The taste of intimacy.

After a while, they take off the blindfold. I can finally see the beautiful picture and watch them eat off of me. My body is glistening and stained. My pubic hair glows in the candlelight.

I am so excited, so wet. The experience is so intense. I absolutely do not want to leave the table.

Elio gets up and heads to the kitchen. The meal is already over? I feel a sadness come over me. Inlé notices my face, smiles at me and says: “For dessert, vanilla cream and spiced pears with red wine”

5. I try to seduce me

by Héroïs
  1. To be non-binary is to be unreadable. Invisible. Because the binary brain of most people will automatically put us in one box or another.
    Do I want to be perceived as male? Female? 50/50?
  2. Can I achieve such ambiguity that I prevent others from “sorting” me?…no, impossible. Most would still find it necessary to assign me.
    How can I construct the conditions of my own non-binary visibility?
  3. For me, AFAB, medicalized, nudity is the way to make my trans body visible. The less clothing I have, the more comfortable I am in front of others’ gaze, because the more I resist cis-thematic assignment.
    Photography has always been, since adolescence, a way to appropriate my own image. To build it. To master it. To eroticize myself in my own terms, too, to subvert the reifying desiring gaze to which being perceived as a woman has accustomed me (and of which I remain, even hormonally and surgically, too often the target).
  4. The self-portrait often intervenes in a moment of instability. I find myself ugly, I am anxious, I lose my footing in my body and in reality. The photo allows me to correct this. To calm myself. To anchor me. It empowers me.
  5. In fact, in these photos – taken in the middle of the night and which do not depart from the rule – I feel powerful. I *see* myself as powerful.
    (even tied up ;))

    I don’t perform masculinity as I try to force myself to do on a daily basis, so that I don’t get the “madam” that makes me bristle. I don’t perform femininity either. I expose myself. I pose, yes, but the look I aim for is my own.
  6. It is me that I seek to seduce. And I succeed. It changes everything.