Category: rape culture

What Karl Lagerfeld Hates; Pornster Rylan Knox Found Dead; More Bill Cosby Accusations

What Karl Lagerfeld Hates

I actually like Lagerfeld designs…especially the men’s cologne. And frankly, I think when you’ve reached the age of 81 years old (or however old he is) you have the right to hate whatever you want, to diss whomever you want, and say whatever you want without thinking twice, whether or not you are Karl Lagerfeld or the guy who owns a small grocery store on the corner.

These presumptuous little PC pricks wrote this article, with this list of things Lagerfeld hates, don’t seem to agree.  

Now, the folks over at Four Pins have compiled a comprehensive list of all the things Mr. Lagerfeld hates. And to the surprise of no one, it turns out he hates pretty much everything. Or maybe it’s just that he has really, really, really high standards.

And here are several of the things Lagerfeld hates.

 “That’s the last thing I want. I hate all children.” 

  “I hate New Year’s Eve! I think it’s terrible.” 

 “I hate sloppy footwear. What I hate most is flip-flops. I am physically allergic to flip-flops.” 

 “I hate selfies…don’t use your film for an ugly purpose.” 

And there are more here. 

I’m growing fonder Karl Lagerfeld. 

Rylan Knox Found Dead

This is another one of those times I have to question all of those uplifting articles I see all the time about how carefree and fun working in porn actually is. Time and again, we read these trumped up stories about how great porn stars have it, and then we read something like this.

Rylan Knox, a popular adult film performer, has been found dead of an apparent suicide. Knox died after hanging himself in his boyfriend’s apartment on April 29. His body was found later the same day.

You can check the rest out here. 

Very sad, indeed. 


More Bill Cosby Accusations

This really doesn’t fall into any of the categories of what I normally would post, however, I find it’s growing more important to support women and women’s issues. Rape and rape culture is a big issue for women, and these allegations about Bill Cosby don’t seem to be disappearing in spite of the fact that he denies all of them. I don’t think there’s ever been anything quite like it this, which alone makes it newsworthy.

Now there are two more women speaking up, one of whom worked with Cosby on his 80’s hit TV show.

In a press conference with attorney Gloria Allred in New York, Lili Bernard and Sammie Mays shared their allegations against Cosby. Lili, who appeared in an episode of the final season of “The Cosby Show,” claimed that she was drugged, raped and threatened by Cosby while he was mentoring her in preparation for her appearance as “the zany and very pregnant Mrs. Minifield.”

According to Bernard, Cosby was initially comforting and welcoming to her, complimenting her on her various skills.

“After he had won m complete trust and adoration he drugged me and raped me,” Bernard said in a statement Friday.

There’s more here. 


Amazon review:

5.0 out of 5 stars A Very Fun Story! April 30, 2015

Verified Purchase

The Rainbow Detective Agency is owned by two gay men – Proctor Gamble and Blair Huntingdon. Proctor is 36 years old and was once a male swimsuit model. The case they are working on now involves a C List celebrity/model named Isaac Luke. He’s a closet gay and also has a very rare physical affliction. He has worked in the past for a designer named Lion Hewitt and has also been personally involved with him.

Isaac is kidnapped and Lion Hewitt hires The Rainbow Detective Agency to find Isaac and to keep the physical affliction from becoming public knowledge. It all turns out to be fun and games until poor Isaac finds his luck has ran completely dry!

The playful banter between Proctor and Blair was a lot of fun and they remind me of Oscar and Felix on the Odd Couple. They are passionate men so you can expect to read quite a bit of steamy scenes with these two. Both, Proctor and Blair were very excited to get acquainted with Isaac and see his special package ( so to speak).

A very fun story! It reads like a smooth dream and the characters have a lot of energy, heart, and charm.

IKEA Bows to Russia; Obama Signs HOPE; FREE Gay Excerpt

IKEA Bows to Russia

Swedish furniture company, IKEA, had an article with a lesbian theme in their customer magazine. Because of Russia’s anti-gay propaganda law IKEA pulled the article from their Russian customer magazine because they want to remain neutral. The interesting thing is that IKEA has always targeted the gay dollar. I know they call it being “gay-friendly,” which I always find amusing, but IKEA’s bottom line rests on money and getting everyone they can to spend money at IKEA.

The chair of Swedish Federation for Lesbian, Gay, Bisexual and Transgender Rights (RFSL) Ulrika Westerlund felt IKEA could have achieved more by standing their ground against potential penalization from Russia.

She said in a statement: ‘I find it disappointing that Ikea has simply laid down flat. ‘No one is really sure what “propaganda” is and if IKEA had left the article in, that could have served as a test case.’

Russian government officials maintain the new law is not anti-gay, as it only prohibits ‘homosexual propaganda’ to minors and not same-sex activity.

What bothers me most is that I’ve seen so many weak excuses about how important it is to follow the law. But we’re not talking about following laws that are fair and just. We’re talking about laws that violate human rights and an entire segment of the world’s population.

You can read more here.

Obama Signs HOPE

I didn’t know it wasn’t possible for one person who is HIV+ to receive an organ from another who is also HIV+.

‘Improving care for people living with HIV is critical to fighting the epidemic, and it’s a key goal of my National HIV/AIDS Strategy,’ Obama said in a statement. ‘The HOPE Act marks an important step in the right direction, and I thank Congress for their action.

You can read more here. This is something that won’t be mentioned in mainstream news because there are so many other things happening in Washington right now. But Obama continues to do these things without getting much recognition, and he continues to support equal rights. I’m not very political and I’m not a huge supporter of any politician, but I think he’ll go down on the right side of history. I just hope he gets that healthcare web site figured out.

FREE Gay Excerpt

This excerpt is from a more recent novella I published on my own titled, Internal Desires. This was also one of the few books I’ve had banned, and not because of content. Because of one or two words in the blurb that got caught in the crossfire of censorship and search engines. In this case, I get into the concept of rape culture. I don’t, and never have, glorified rape in the story…or any story. But I do mention rape culture from an academic POV and the search engines banned me for those words. So I’ve been wanting to post this excerpt for a while to show what I’m talking about. Readers can be the judges in this case.

This is a raw excerpt before final edits. Please take into consideration the final book has been well edited and I’m only posting this here because it’s easier to copy and paste from Word than a PDF file on google blogger. The book is on sale here for .99. It’s also at and other outlets where e-books are sold. It’s a gender-bending story where a young gay man who is not a transgender but likes a little feminine kink finds out how women are often treated by straight men.

He laughed and waved at the money. “Don’t worry about it, babe. This one’s on me. It’s not every day I get to wait on a sweet little thing like you. You doing anything later tonight.”

Although I wanted him to think I was a real woman, I didn’t know how to respond. “Well, I’m kind of busy. I’m meeting my boyfriend. But thanks anyway.” Then I tried to give him the money again.

This time he took my hand very gently and pushed it back into the car. He refused to take the money. “No problem. This one is still on me.” He stood up, tapped the hood twice, and said, “You have a good night, and stop back any time you want with those pretty legs. I work here every night of the week.”

His aggressive approach made me swallow hard and gulp. I knew I’d made a mistake and I shouldn’t have been sitting there with my legs open, but in the same respect I hadn’t given him any verbal signals to show I was interested in him. I glanced into his eyes, smiled, and said, “You have a good night, too.” Then I hit the gas and got out of there as fast as I could. I had a feeling he wanted to reach into the car and put his big greasy hand up my skirt.

As I pulled away, I heard him whistle and say, “Damn, bitches. Now that’s what I’m talking about.”

When I was back on the main road, my heart stopped racing and I felt more secure about going to the country western bar. It would be dark in the bar and so crowded I could blend in. And if I could pass that way all alone under the bright lights of a gas station, I knew I could pass anywhere. My only regret was that I hadn’t asked that horny guy to fill up my tank. If I’d known he wouldn’t charge me I would have kept my legs open longer. At the time, the full impact of his abusive gestures and comments had not registered with me. I wondered if this sort of thing happened often to good looking women in short skirts, because nothing like that had ever happened to me as a dude in jeans.

About twenty minutes later, I pulled into the parking lot of a western bar called, Cowboy’s Delight, and parked in a dark section in the back. Before I climbed out, I glanced into the rearview mirror and put on more pink frosted lip gloss. I checked my hair and made sure my breasts were even. I hadn’t worn a lot of make-up that night. I didn’t want to look like a drag queen or a hooker. And with the spray tan on my face I didn’t even need foundation or powder. All I needed was lip gloss, a little blush, eye-liner, and mascara. I’d added a little white frosted eye shadow for effect, but only enough to make my brow bones glimmer. I didn’t overdo anything. I wanted to look as natural as any other young woman in her early twenties.

When I climbed out of the car, I smoothed out my skirt and headed to the entrance of Cowboy’s Delight. I could hear the twang of a familiar country song coming from inside, and the muffled sounds of people talking over each other. This wasn’t one of those nightclubs where they charged a cover, and I walked in through the entrance behind two other young women as if we were all together. Most of the people were busy talking and they didn’t notice me, and the bar was dark once I was inside. I continued to follow the two women past groups of men and women of all ages until the women decided to turn to the right. When they turned, I went to the left and found an empty barstool in front of a long bar that was set off to the side of the main action. You could see the dance floor from there, but everyone at that bar seemed to be observing more than participating.

When I sat down on the barstool, this time I crossed my legs and made a mental note to keep my knees together. The bartender walked over and asked me what I wanted and I ordered a beer. I would have killed for a dirty martini, but I didn’t want to drink anything too strong. The thought of getting stopped by a cop on the way home for drunken driving sent a chill up my spine. I couldn’t even imagine the excuse I would have to conjure up if something like that happened. I would have to move out of town and never return. I could see the expression of shock on the face of Chief Ludlow, my dad’s best friend, when he discovered that I really wasn’t a woman.

After the first half hour, I felt more relaxed. The people around me continued on with their conversations, the bartender served his drinks, and the music continued to play. I didn’t mind being an observer and I had no ulterior motives. I saw a few good-looking girls in shorter, sexier skirts than mine and they were getting more attention than me. But I soon discovered I wasn’t invisible. A nice looking guy in his thirties walked up to me and put his hand on the back of my barstool as if he were claiming his territory. He seemed nervous; he spoke with a slight stutter. “You wouldn’t want to dance, would you?” he asked.

I didn’t really want to dance, but I felt so bad for him I nodded and said, “Yes, I’d love to dance.” They were playing a new song that had recently been released by Kenny Chesney. I liked the song, and I’d never actually danced with a guy before. I also would have felt terrible if I’d turned this poor guy down. He seemed so nice and kind, as if he’d mustered up every ounce of courage he had to ask me to dance. Up until then my experience with men in this regard had always been with polite, cautious gay men on the down low. I had no idea what I was in for with straight men. Let’s just say I gained a whole new sense of respect for straight women that night.

He helped me off the barstool and set his palm on the small of my back. It felt awkward at first, but I remained expressionless and let him make all the moves. He guided me to the dance floor and reached for my hand. He gently pulled me to the dance floor, and then he reached down and held my waist. I glanced around quickly and noticed the way everyone else was dancing. This was one of those slow songs and people were just standing in one place rocking back and forth. I lifted my arms like the woman beside me who was dancing with a guy and rested my hands behind my dance partner’s neck just like her. Then I rested my head against his chest just like her and we started rocking back and forth like everyone else. It felt unusual to be in his arms and I had a feeling I didn’t have much control anymore. I liked the way he smelled of aftershave, though. He had a trimmed, but slightly scruffy, beard and he reminded me of the actor, John Cusack. He was by no means male model material, but definitely a nice-looking guy in a sexy, masculine way.

We danced for a while in silence, and then he pulled me closer and said, “You’re very pretty. I’m Mickey.” His hands went lower and he rubbed the top of my buttocks in what I thought was a harmless way at first.

I ran the long pink fingernails across the back of his neck slowly and said, “I’m Randy.” I figured it’s a unisex name, and I wasn’t going to give him my last name. I’d never seen him before, and I doubted I’d see him again after that night.

“You’re a great dancer, Randy,” he said. “You’re very easy to move around. You’ve got great legs, too. You’re so damn hot.” His hands went lower and he patted my bottom a few times in a more aggressive way.

I didn’t know how to respond to him. And I didn’t scratch the back of his neck with my fingernails that time to encourage him. But I didn’t want to piss him off either, so I smiled and said, “That’s because you’re such a great dancer yourself, Mickey.” I figured if I was nice to him he would be nice to me.

But his hands only went lower and he continued to pat and rub my bottom without asking for permission. “I’ll bet you’re great in the sack.”

“I like this song,” I said. I wanted to change the subject and I wanted to stop dancing. As far as I knew the only thing I’d done to encourage him was touch his neck with my fingernails. I didn’t think that was an aggressive gesture.

He grabbed me harder and the back of my skirt went up a little. “You smell so pretty and soft.”

When the song ended, they started to play something faster. Mickey patted the small of my back and said, “Let’s go back to the bar and sit down. I don’t feel like dancing fast.” I noticed he’d stopped stuttering and he seemed less timid now.

I nodded yes and removed my arms from his shoulders, relieved to get off the dance floor. He took my hand and I followed him back to the barstool where he’d found me. There were all kinds of images running through my head by then. He thought I was a real woman and I knew this could get dangerous. He kept looking at my chest, my legs, and my lips as if he wanted to rip off my clothes and throw me down on the floor. I decided to be more aggressive myself, and to keep it as casual as possible at the same time. I figured that because I was pretending to be a woman, and he thought I was a woman, this would be simple enough to do. But boy did I get the surprise of my life.

When we reached the bar and I lifted my leg to climb up on the stool, he put his hand up my skirt and grabbed my ass without any warning whatsoever. This time it wasn’t in a playful way. I had a feeling he meant business. And when he realized I wasn’t wearing panties and I was only wearing a thong, he squeezed harder and said, “That’s hot, baby. No panties. I had a feeling you were a very dirty girl when I saw the way you were dressed.” He emphasized the word dirty.

I froze for a moment, and he continued to grope me. I wondered what had happened to that nice shy man who had been stuttering. I finally reached for his hand, pulled it out of my skirt, and sat down. In a playful way, I smacked his arm and said, “You be a good boy. I’m wearing a thong.”

He smiled and moved closer. He lowered his hand and grabbed my thigh. “Open those pretty legs for me. No one can see us. I know what girls like you want.” His hand started to slide up between my legs.

I removed his hand from my leg and smiled again. I wanted to keep this friendly. “I said be a good boy. I don’t even know you, Mickey.”

He ignored me and grabbed my leg again. His hand moved up, only inches from my penis…or what he thought was my vagina. “Let’s go outside. My truck isn’t far.”

“I think I have to go to the bathroom,” I said. “I’ll be right back.” It was the first excuse that popped into my head.

“I’ll come with you,” He said. “We can go to my truck after that and you can sit on my lap. I’d like to see that pretty thong up close.”

I took a deep breath and exhaled. “Mickey, you seem like a nice guy, but I’m really not interested in anything more than dancing tonight.” I figured I would be honest; he would be okay with this and he would appreciate my honesty.

He squeezed me leg harder and said, “I know what girls like you want. Don’t play innocent with me.”

I got a sick feeling in my stomach. I didn’t know how to handle him. No gay guy had ever treated me this way. I couldn’t be too aggressive because he would find out about me and that would have been disastrous. So I pushed him away gently and said, “I think I’m going to go home now.” I stuttered a little then.

“I’ve got something nice to show you,” he said. He refused to let me get up. “You know you want it. It’s nice and big. You wouldn’t be dressed that way if you didn’t want guys coming on to you. Let’s stop playing games, sweetie.”

What an asshole. The things he tried to do to me that night reminded me of a sociology elective I’d taken in community college that had focused on rape culture, where they blame the victim instead of the asshole douchebag who objectifies her. If I’d been a real woman I would have kicked him in the balls and started to scream. If I’d been in a gay bar and he’d been a gay man I would have hit him in the jaw. But I couldn’t take that chance dressed as a woman with all those people around me, so I continued to be nice and hope I could get through to him. “I’m really not playing games,” I said. “You seem like a nice guy, but I just want to sit here alone for a while. Thanks for the dance, seriously.”

“I know what a girl like you wants,” Mickey said.

“What do you mean, a girl like me?” I asked. “I didn’t say or do anything to lead you on.” My faced started to grow warm. I had a feeling he was about to cross the invisible line and I would have to do something to stop him.

As Mickey leaned forward this time, his hand went down between my legs again and someone behind him grabbed his arm. A deep voice said, “She’s not a girl. She’s a young woman. And she is trying to be nice you, buddy. Can’t you take a fucking hint? She’s not interested in you, dude. Now get lost.”

James Franco’s Sex Scenes; Adam Levine Sex Appeal; Pastor Found Guilty;

James Franco’s Sex Scenes

I posted before I’m reading James Franco’s new novel, Actors Anonymous, and that I would review it soon. I’ve had a lot of reading to do for work lately and it’s been a slow process to the finish with AA, but I’m down to the final quarter and I just wanted to mention the sex scenes in the book for a few reasons.

I post a lot about erotic romance here because I have over 150 erotic romance books out and that’s what I do. I’ve been doing this since college and I often find myself on the defense when it comes to writing sex scenes in books. Sex that’s considered important to a storyline by some is often considered nothing but pure porn to another. So there’s no disputing the fact that sex in books is subjective. And every single reader and author is going to have a slightly different opinion on the topic. And since there’s no clear cut definition of porn yet, at least not to my knowledge, it becomes even more difficult and subjective.

The reason I’m mentioning the sex scenes in Franco’s novel are purely pragmatic at this point. Franco takes a lot of heat as an author, and it’s not my intention to criticize him now. It’s not a review; it’s only an observation. In the past year erotic romance writers have been dealing with censorship, book banning, and the unusual brand of misinterpretation of their books thanks to search engines that pick up one word and classify a book taboo based on nothing but misinterpretation. And I found it interesting that a book like Franco’s that is so filled with graphic sex scenes has not once been mentioned in any of this controversy. And I’m not talking about sex scenes in a romance that move a story forward. I’m not talking about tender emotional sex scenes that add intimacy to a story. In Franco’s book I’m talking about sex scenes that get down and dirty in ways that stunned me sometimes. It takes a lot to shock me at this point in my life.

I’m going to post a review for Actors Anonymous very soon. But I wanted to post about this because I find it interesting that authors like me get banned for discussing rape culture, innocently, in a book blurb in an academic way and authors like Franco slide right by with books that actually include rape in certain scenes and never once mention rape culture as a sensitive topic to readers. And there is no mention of this in the product description for Franco’s book. If you didn’t know ahead of time these elements are part of the book you would buy it, sit there in shock while one character goes down on another in MacDonalds’ restroom, and wonder what kind of WTF-ery happened to you. And that’s basically the reason authors like me have been going through book banning and censorship recently, because books like Franco’s get pubbed and someone winds up reading something sexual he or she didn’t expect. Then a shitstorm happens, some questionable publications like The Kernel jump onto the porn bandwagon, and authors like me have to makes changes to books that we intended to describe honestly and completely in the first place. I do have a book out that discusses rape culture. But I’m not glorifying rape. I’m talking about a brand of rape culture that affects millions of women and gay men all the time. Yet I get banned and books with rape scenes pass through the proverbial cracks. I just think readers should be aware of this, is all.

On the other hand, I’m actually enjoying Franco’s book and when I post the review I might have a few surprises people didn’t expect. My point is not to complain about Franco or slam anything he’s written. I’m complaining about the way books are sold and presented to readers beforehand. Because in “fixing” my books that were banned so they wouldn’t get caught in the crossfire of search engines, it took a way from the honesty I tried so hard to provide to the reader beforehand. I’ll be posting a free excerpt of what I’m talking about with rape culture on Friday.

Adam Levine Sex Appeal

This morning on my way to the park where I run every day I heard them talking about Adam Levine being dubbed People Magazine’s Sexiest Man Alive. Normally I turn that crap off and listen to music, but I thought the reaction was interesting. One of the DJ’s, a man, didn’t seem too thrilled with Levine as the Sexiest Man Alive. He kept repeating, in a snarky way, “V-neck, stubble, short, high-pitched voice, yeah that’s sexy.” And the other DJ, a woman, kept disagreeing with him.

Personally, I agree with the woman DJ. And I don’t think that sexy is always associated with perfect good looks, height, or the kind of clothes a man wears. Sexy is more instinctive, and it becomes an almost sixth sense for some people…a sixth sense that usually includes all other five senses at the same time. In other words, sexy is more than an image of perfection. And if that wasn’t true all those amateur adult entertainment web sites wouldn’t be so popular.

In this next article it discusses how Levine might have been chosen Sexiest Man Alive, on purpose. Nothing is an accident anymore.

People Magazine‘s annual Sexiest Man Alive is a bloodbath of Hunger Gamesian proportions. Much like Highlander, there can only be one, and this year Maroon 5 frontman and he of the perpetual five o’clock shadow, Adam Levine, has decapitated his way to the front of the pack to earn the prestigious title. With only his sword and shield — his moves like Jagger and sultry/deadly piercing squint — as his guide, here’s how Levine outsexed the competition.
Full story here:

Pastor Found Guilty

Earlier this week I posted about a minister who was charged for performing a marriage ceremony for his gay son and husband. Here’s the result:

A jury has pronounced a pastor ‘guilty’ for violating and disobeying church law when he officiated a same-sex marriage for his son.

I know this is now international news, but because it happened in PA I saw clips of it all on my local Philadelphia news and actually got to see the minister and his family on TV. It’s an emotional piece to read, and even more emotional to view because these people are not only brave, but also passionate about their beliefs.

You can read more here.

American Horror Story; Is Miley Cyrus a Victim?

American Horror Story

The new season of American Horror Story is coming up this week, and Ryan Murphy thinks it could run for 10 seasons. The show also has a big gay following for some reason, and DRVs in my house have already been set to record the entire series. Jessica Lange is back, and Kathy Bates is also part of the cast.

Jessica Lange plays Fiona, the Supreme witch of her generation, which means she has almost unlimited power — except that she can’t seem to stop herself from aging. Her daughter Cordelia, played by Sarah Paulson, is also a witch, but she’s chosen to stifle her powers and live a more “normal” life. Of course normal in a Ryan Murphy show means running a school for “exceptional young ladies,” a.k.a. young witches, in New Orleans, home of voodoo and the destination for witches fleeing Salem so many years ago.

“American Horror Story: Coven” premieres Wednesday, Oct. 9 at 10 p.m. ET on FX.

Read more here…

Is Miley Sirus a Victim?

In a Guardian article by Melissa Bradshaw, there are some interesting comments about whether or not Miley Cyrus is a victim, and whether or not Sinead O’Clonner was justified in penning Cyrus an open letter. I still think the main issue is dealing with people who have mental illnesses. However, if I were attacked online, non-stop, like O’Conner is attacking Cyrus, I’m not sure I would be so forgiving.

Perhaps you can already see the problem here. It is not women’s bodies or images of them that cause the exploitation of women or violence against women. The perpetrators are to blame. If women’s bodies were to blame for any violence or exploitation of women, then rapists would be justified in claiming their victims were asking for it by looking attractive. The rhetoric of objectification actually feeds that which it claims to protect women against – the equation of female nudity with exploitation and violence. What the world needs is not the idea that women are precious victims. Women need to be able to behave in a sexual way without exploitation or violence being considered a necessary outcome.

You can read more at this link.

I often post about rape culture here. However, I think these issues when coming from a woman’s POV, hold more impact than anything I could say or comment about. But I will add this: Cher started performing in less than nothing costumes many years ago, she shocked people at award ceremonies, and continued to do this well into her fifties. I would like to see how Cher would respond to Sinead O’Conner if O’Conner were to pen her an open letter. In fact, I would like ringside seats.

Large Breasts, Proms, Rape Culture; Win Free Kindles

When I came across an article yesterday about a young woman with large breasts who was not allowed to attend her prom, I had just finished working on edits for an upcoming indie I’m releasing this month that mentions rape culture. These two topics don’t usually go hand in hand in m/m romance, but I worked them into the storyline in a way that shows how one young man finds out how young women are often treated and victimized in our society. And it happens in an unlikely way sometimes.

The article about the young woman with large breasts who was turned away at her prom for wearing a dress that showed cleavage also surprised me for another reason. I read about the article on social media and there was a comment thread with men and women who seemed to agree that the young woman shouldn’t have worn a dress like that. They made it sound as if the young woman and her parents had done something wrong. In fact, many of the comments, from both men and women, were snarky and continued to devolve. And that bothered me because this sort of thing happens far too often.

I don’t know if straight men are ever objectified or victimized this way, but I do know I have been treated this way at various times in my life. When I was single the big thing in the 1990’s were cat suits. If you don’t know what a cat suit is, here’s link. Gay men wore them to nightclubs all the time for a while back then. In NY, at parties, when the clock struck midnight we changed into catsuits and ran to The Roxy. I had one of my own. And even though I wore the cat suit because it was something trendy and basically harmless (we all wore them for about five minutes), I never went out once when I didn’t have some obnoxious, aggressive guy coming on to me and suggesting that because I’d worn a cat suit I was looking for trouble. One night a guy even waited for me outside a bar, after I’d turned him down multiple times throughout that evening. He stalked me and followed me to my car, and I got lucky because a friend of mine came out to his car just in time. I never wore a cat suit out to a club again after that night.

The assumption is that because a person dresses or looks a certain way means they are doing something wrong, or doing something with the wrong intentions. In this case it’s a young woman with large breasts. She becomes the victim and she didn’t even know she did anything wrong.

 Minder’s search for the perfect prom dress took her all the way to Canada, but when she showed up at the senior prom in her brand-new gown, she was told she couldn’t come inside.

“In my opinion, I feel that it is because I’m bigger chested and there is more cleavage that you can see, and there’s nothing I could really do about that,” she said.

According to the school’s dress code, strapless dresses are allowed as long as cleavage, midriff and lower back are covered.

“It was blatant from the start that the school was not being fair in how they were enforcing that rule,” said Minder’s dad, Gary Minder.

Minder’s parents have no problem with the rules, but say their daughter was singled out for having a large chest.

The article continues to explain the situation in more detail, and you can see a photo of the young woman in the dress.

For those who don’t know, this is how rape culture is defined. It’s a long article and rape culture isn’t the kind of subject that can be discussed in an offhanded way. And I’m not trying to do that now. But I couldn’t help wondering if what this young woman experienced wasn’t a form of rape culture as it is defined with regard to victimization and slut shaming.

Victim blaming is the phenomena in which a victim of a crime or an accident is partially or entirely attributed or responsible for the transgressions committed against them. [56] An example of this could take place when a victim of a crime, (in this case rape or sexual assault), is asked questions by the police, in an Emergency room, or in a court room, that suggests that the victim was doing something, acting a certain way, or wearing clothes that may have provoked the perpetrator, therefore making the transgressions against the victim their own fault.This is an example of victim blaming committed by the authorities. However, this could also occur among a victim’s peers.

In this particular case, the young woman is the victim and she’s being blamed because she was born with large breasts. And regardless of how innocent her intentions are with the prom dress she chose, the fact that she wore this dress and they made her wear a shawl suggests she was doing something wrong and wearing clothes that could provoke something illicit. And I don’t believe for one moment these were her intentions. And by penalizing her the way they did they are only perpetuating a subtle brand of rape culture in our society and sending out the wrong signals to other young people.

When I mention rape culture in my next indie release, Internal Desires, I do it quietly because this is a love story with a happy ending. It’s also an m/m erotic romance and I don’t want to disappoint my readers in that respect. But the way rape culture comes about in the story is a surprise to the main character because his intentions are actually as innocent as the young woman with large breasts I just mentioned above, and the hero of the story who doesn’t even know what rape culture is actually does the right thing for once. When I wore cat suits I wasn’t that lucky.

Win Free Kindles

An author I know is having a promotional event where she’s giving away three free Kindle e-readers. It’s a blog tour that’s taking place June 24th – 30th. Because I’m posting about it I’ve taken myself out of the running and I won’t be eligible. You can read more here. And here. And also here.

I’m a blithering idiot when it comes to blog tours, so I’m not going to attempt to give out details. But I’m sure most of you know more about them than I do, and when there’s a chance to win a free Kindle e-reader it makes things a little more interesting.

You can also read more at the author’s facebook page.