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Sex, Pizza and Horror Movies! (This Blog Is Mostly About Sex) The following blog contains nsf material, sexual content and more mischief. This is your explicit content warning. 18+ readers only.

Before the pandemic, the question “Horror Movies & Chill?” became a prevalent hashtag. The meme’s make me laugh because I’ve been “chillin’” while watching movies, especially horror movies, well before social media. Is there anything better than pushing play on your favorite horror movie, ordering a pizza only to restart the whole movie and greeting the pizza

delivery person all disheveled because you got distracted because you were fucking your partner? No! There is nothing better. The pandemic forced millions of people to nurture porn addictions and find a means to replace dating and casual sex with virtual experiences. For those of us who had dick and/or pussy on tap, it left a lot of cum stains on our furniture, and carpets, and a whole lot of creative thinking on how to keep the passion aflame. I don’t know about other femmes who embrace their sexuality and wear it as crowns but, when I get excited about anything – I get horny. When I am within a depressive state, I usually resort to masturbation and sex to feel some sort of positive, feel good energy. I use my orgasms to amplify rituals. Anytime theres a sex scene in a horror movie or show, I have an explicit commentary to add and nothing refuels the body better than pizza to get me ready for round two, three, four…

By now, it shouldn’t be a secret that I had an OnlyFans page. It’s funny because over a year ago, Mary Misery said she wanted to be a member of my OnlyFans and I had no idea what she was talking about. I looked it up and was very interested. I even imagined myself posting pics of my “chunky thighs and spooky vibes” on social media just to get a taste of what it must feel like to bare it all. But, I knew my Husband would NOT be interested. Though I always get my way with him, I just didn’t feel the need to push it. At that moment, anyways. So, fast forward to November 2020 and I was really doing my homework about OnlyFans. Aside from the fact that it was a means for people to earn money and, in some cases, supplement income that had been diminished due to the pandemic, it was a safe place for sex workers to continue working. Safer and, in some cases, more lucrative. Ironically, I feel like the pandemic possibly could have saved some lives by keeping sex workers off of the dangerous streets.

My reasoning to bare my pumpkin-sized boobs for a monthly rate doesn’t have much to do with the money. Yes, I was curious to see how much these tits, and my body in general would earn but, I really wanted to take the opportunity while I had the confidence. It may sound silly but, I felt like it was something I had to try. There was no avoiding it. I am constantly receiving comments about my body, especially my boobs, so I figured, why not appease the curiosity and make art, create muses and earn a little cash at the same time? After all, we had the time.

When I was 16 or 17, I watched Salma Hayek hypnotize George Clooney in From Dusk Till Dawn. Hell, I was hypnotized. I wanted to control men with my curves too. I didn’t see anything wrong with that but I never said so. Nor did I ever think I would pursue it. Coming from a family of women who suffer from PTSD because of sexual abuse, it was a sensitive topic and to be a powerful woman, you absolutely did not show off your sacred body for it would have ruined your chances to become a successful woman. I still wanted to have sex when I felt ready. But, once I did, I got addicted. Being a promiscuous teen was not ok and many girls didn’t hesitate to turn their backs on girls like me. I didn’t like the feeling of being slut shamed as a sexually active teenager. Yet, in my head, I enjoyed being promiscuous. Guys were able to do it. Why couldn’t I? I liked sex. I liked being desired. I was safe as could be, I used condoms and birth control. As a kid, I was quite the ugly duckling but then I blossomed as a teen. I’ll admit I was cute and sexy as hell then, so of corpse, I liked being seen in a desireable light for the first time! But, I did hurt people in the process and I will carry that guilt forever. So that’s when I began to fight my “urges”. I fought them hard. I had to become content living in my fantasy world where I would masturbate while watching the sex scenes in Friday the 13th, Nightmare on Elm Street, Bram Stoker’s Dracula and even that horrible one in American Werewolf In London. I would listen to KROQ and mixed CD’s and imagined myself dancing naked with David Bowie, Peter Murphy and Fiona Apple. Sometimes, all at the same time.

During my brief stint in Community College, I almost made it to an audition at a strip club. It was a trashy place but I needed the quick money. However, a little cellulite on the side of my thighs kept me from going to the audition. I watched my stage time approach and then pass. I regretted it. But, my fear of being the “one ugly duckling” or being rejected, surpassed my feelings of regret. Not much later, I went on to become a Mom at 19 and then had three more kids right before I turned 30. At that point, they were everything to me, I didn’t exist outside of their needs. I felt like I didn’t deserve to exist outside of them. There was clearly something wrong with me.

But, you’re a Mom! How do your kids feel about you having an OnlyFans? Do they know?

If you’ve read my previous blog’s you know I am a Mom. You have an idea of how in love and in awe I am of my kids. The thing is, I have come to realize that I do exist outside of my role, the honor of being their Mother. I spent over two decades trying my damndest to impress my children. But, now, there are times where I feel like I am their biggest disappointment. And that feeling came long before I started OnlyFans. You see, I have only been doing OnlyFans for seven months. I’ve been a Mother for over twenty two years. I have gone through many phases of Mothering to try to teach and make life easy for my kids. None of which ever left me feeling happy or fulfilled. In truth I was exhausted, anxious and easily angered.

If you have read my previous blogs, you know I was and still am dealing with emotional trauma and very low self-worth. I didn’t accept something was off back then. But, then after my awakening, I took a step back and left my kids home, a lot, by the end of 2018. I shed the “always supportive school mom” role and began to live life more on my terms. In 2019, I found my place in the Halloween community and was ready to do what I’ve always wanted to do. (What I am doing now) That took time away from my kids but I hoped that they would be inspired by my successes. They weren’t. Then came the pandemic and the days, weeks, months of staying in and a move to another State. Now, new schools, during a new, dangerous phase of the pandemic and my kids are stressed! I am too! I blame myself. That’s what Moms do. Right? As an empath, I willingly take in as much of their anxieties to help relieve theirs. But, my Maternal spirit guide is still urging me to do what makes me happy. I have no choice but to do whatever makes me feel good in a world full of pure terror and hopelessness. My kids may not know or they are embarrassed if they do know that I am one of those Mom’s who sells images and videos of her body. They probably think I don’t need to do it, so why? But, I don’t hear any of them complaining about the smiling, still eager to please and usually willing to listen. They know they are always safe with me. They know that if it came to it, I would do more than shake my ass online in order to give them what they need.

About four weeks ago, I had lost all motivation to take fresh pictures or film any pillow humping. I felt like I wanted my masturbation time to myself and without me filming it. Yes, I do that. I wonder if my awesome subscribers noticed my lack of effort. So, when I saw the news about OnlyFans kicking off content creators who post explicit sexual content, I felt relieved. I was feeling so heavy because it was time for me to take a break, ground and meditate on my next moves. I wasn’t feeling like putting on make-up and uploading myself holding my ass cheeks open until that perfect angle was achieved. I didn’t feel like writing or editing. All I wanted to do was eat various kinds of pizza, read books and watch horror movies. I wanted to “chill” without having to set up the tripod.

So, I decided to take OnlyFans cowardly announcement to take a little break and decide if I was going to retire my public sexual mischief altogether or proceed with my Hell-O-Ween Halloween plans. For those of you who don’t know, Hell-O-Ween is my “stage name.” I felt bad and guilty for being upset about the change of OnlyFans terms. What right did I have in regards to this latest attack on sexual women? There are sex worker’s out there depending on it to feed and house and care for their families. It kept them safe. I have all of these comforts with or without doing what I do. For me it’s for my personal pleasure as much as the money. I felt like I was taking up their space. That feeling trickled over to social media and I froze. I felt like I had nothing to share that was worthy of your scrolling finger. This latest bout of depression got me good.

I am sure some wonder about the harassment and unsolicited dick pics sex workers and women deal with in general. I, personally, have not received unsolicited dick pics in quite some time. It seemed like when I started charging for their way-too-confident shots, the real creeps backed off or got locked in the abyss of my message requests. I like to envision myself projecting warning signals. A warning signal that makes the word “consent” echo in their head. This intimidates men I am sure. But, it has brought in a group of “fans” that have been, for the most part, well-mannered, patient and respectful of my boundaries. It’s a safe space. It’s by no means any kind of solution, so this is no praise. That is my heartache for victims of human trafficking, rape, and those who have been murdered for their NSFW occupation speaking.

What many people don’t realize is creating this kind of content takes work. I can’t just give a half assed show. I have to make it look good enough for my subscribers to keep renewing and tipping. Keep that in mind, if you’re feeling entitled to free content. You aren’t. Sex work is work and we deserve to be paid for what we sell. Nothing makes me block people more than those who ask me for free content while simultaneously posting pics of their gaming systems and Halloween hauls. Other sex workers have shared that they have been offered free massages or other dumb ass offerings in exchange for nudes. On the flip, I have had men who were supportive from my beginning and then happened to fall hard on times. That is when I offered a free trial. It’s not hard to support each other in all of our crafts. With that being said, I am accepting tips as I write. Who’s buying my pizza tonite?

,So how can I pay for your pizza/offer you a tip/contribute to you, Michelle Halloween/ Hell-O-Ween?

When it comes to my naked mischief, I decided to not bother with OnlyFans back-and-forth bullshit. This isn’t the first time they have given into financial corporations. I don’t do well with authority so, I have decided to continue wobbling my boobs and other parts, exclusively on Fansly. I am getting back to nurturing my Patreon to share my writing so, if you’d rather buy me a cup of coffee and/or some weed, check out what I have to offer my patrons. If you just want to support me, just because I have Cash App and Venmo. Regardless, you will always have my gratitude. My readers, fans and friends are my inspiration and motivation.

While I was uploading pictures to my new account on Fansly, I was going through my “hidden album.” Sometimes, I hate admitting this, but, damn it, I turn myself on. There, it’s out there. I will say that it feels good to admit because it feels like confidence. I embrace every “Goddess” comment I get. I embrace every compliment that isn’t trashy! The few haters and perverted men I have had, don’t even phase me. This is new for me, humans! This chapter, phase, whatever it’s called, it’s my happy in this terrifying and harsh simulation. The way things are going, we could be ended by means of covid, other diseases, the effects of climate change, police brutality, Christian hypocrisy, conservatives and Karen’s. I am living the rest of my life unapologetically.

,Speaking of Karen’s…

For the Twats eager to gossip or poke fun about me showing off my perfectly imperfect body, have at it! No one has judged me harder than I have judged myself, so they can’t hurt me. I have tried being those bitches. I have had “respectable” hustles like selling cookware and candles. I was even a lunch lady. It never did anything for me. I wasn’t supported in my businesses the way the white women were and still, these bored, lonely and weak women still did their very best to alienate me. Some even came after my kids. Boredom, jealousy and voluntary ignorance is the brew a majority of these suburban women drink on the daily. Some are too tired from holding up their Husband’s successes, selling Lululemon and tumblers while driving multiple kids under 10 years old to and from school. I’d be jealous of myself too! Again, I tried being these bitches! But, I couldn’t keep conforming and living my life on repeat. I’ll quote Roxy Tart here,

“The world is going to judge you no matter what you do. You may as well live your life the way you want to.”

Overall, I feel better now. At this very moment, I am present, craving pizza, watching Bram

Stoker’s Dracula and horny for the first time in days. Again, sex is usually my depression buster. The adrenaline, the control, and lack thereof, is an immediate rush of pleasure. Much like crying, but more intense, sex offers a relief from the discomfort, pain and despair. Showing it off amplifies my energy even more. And, I am depressed and anxious enough on my own – horror movies are my meds for melancholy and mania. It may not make sense for the conservative reader but, I have found being conservative and well-behaved is more unnatural than being the carnal temptress that I truly am. From an early age, I knew I was a sexual being that couldn’t not be forced into oppression by misogyny. I know what power naked pleasure yields and I can’t contain that all to myself.

So, who’s buying me pizza tonite and what horror movie are we watching?

https://fans.ly/Hell-O-Ween

@hell_o_ween1031

Patreon https://www.patreon.com/michellehalloween

Always support your favorite Sex Worker! Here is a list and some comments from my friends and inspirations.

Erika…

One’s body is such a controversial topic. Mainly with the owner of the body. Out the gate I was riddled with self doubt and sadly hatred for my body. I was a competitive dancer for years and still always thicker than need be. I battled for years for self acceptance. Then one day I just told myself, “Fuck it!”! Stop hating this ass *grabs ass cheek*. Stop hating these hips. Stop hating these boobs. Just stop. They’re actually pretty damn sexy. Every single day I find myself surrounded by beautiful women in my beloved horror community and it becomes overwhelming at times. The standard we are supposed to be at is hard to obtain. But, I can’t forget that while all these badass women are gorgeous, what makes them even more is their confidence. Their ownership of being who they are. This then empowered me to be my true self. A sexy, slasher loving, plump and juicy horror fiend. Shit, just throw some fake blood on me and lick it all off. There is your meal and dessert! While owning this new way of life, it comes with some comments from those who don’t agree with what I post. Too much ass they say! Well, honey, keep scrolling because I’m not going anywhere. I don’t focus on the bad. I focus on those who say it gives them the power to own who they are as well. Now that, my friends, is what it’s all about. Owning your own fucking life. One ass cheek at a time.

– Erika Ashley

Insta: @erika.staycreepy

Roxy Tart

welcometoroxysworld.com

Anna

Anomaleespectre.com

Get in touch

mobrien@michellehalloween.com