26-05-2025
I don't want to live in a world that criminalises unconventional sex
I don't have a pension pot for my dotage, but long thought that if I fell on hard times I could start a sex cult.
After all, I used to edit the Erotic Review magazine and am the proud owner of an antler-horn headdress. At least, that was the plan until the New York trial of OneTaste founder Nicole Daedone and her head of sales, Rachel Cherwitz, started this month.
The glossy duo, who ran an alternative lifestyle company focused on women's erotic pleasure, are charged with conspiracy to commit forced labour after a number of adherents said that they were coerced into having sex with colleagues and potential investors.
Details of the allegations were laid out in investigations by Bloomberg, then a BBC podcast and, most infamously, in Netflix's Orgasm Inc, which incorporated passages from diaries written by a former sales rep for the company, Ayries Blanck.
For anyone who doesn't scour streaming services for lurid sex documentaries, a little explication may be required. I feel fairly qualified on the topic, as I flew to San Francisco in 2011 to interview Daedone about OneTaste and her book Slow Sex: the Art and Craft of the Female Orgasm.
The author and CEO had garnered ideas from Tantra, Buddhism and yoga and crafted them into what she dubbed 'Orgasmic Meditation', or OMing for short.
The practice was conceived as an antidote to the 'harder, faster!' school of male-centric sex and was focused on female anatomy and pleasure.
So far, so laudable; but the practice was also highly unorthodox – or plain whackjob, depending on your outlook.
In essence, it involved women removing their lower clothing and reclining on a nest of cushions, before their OMing partner (generally a man) stroked their intimate anatomy for 15 minutes in a prescribed manner.
This tended to occur in a room filled with other nesting couples with the avowed intention to build enhanced capacity for pleasure. Daedone and one of her wing women explained all this to me in a coffee bar, while radiating the beatific glow of sexy cats who'd drunk all the cream. I felt a bit like I'd fallen down a time wormhole and ended up at Woodstock circa 1969.
I found Daedone intelligent, persuasive and charismatic: characteristics that would lead to her downfall, as she stepped ever further into Sex-guru Land.
She espoused her wish for OM classes to be taught 'like yoga' in gyms across the US and the UK, to which I replied that while the idea might fly in hippy-dippy California, I couldn't see Milton Keynes's WI discarding their knickers in a David Lloyd club.
However, not long afterwards OneTaste opened a branch in London and a handful of erotically short-changed women I knew (mostly divorcees) signed up for classes.
One was so enthused she flew out to California for more in-depth courses.
They were far from being the only enthusiasts; in 2018 Daedone appeared on Gwynneth Paltrow's Goop podcast, making the zenith of OneTaste's social acceptability.
Shortly after that, Bloomberg ran an exposé on the movement's business practices: some members had fallen into heavy debt after paying for courses and others had felt pressurised into sexual liaisons.
It also transpired that OneTaste had paid Ayries Blanck (author of the Netflix diaries) $325,000 to settle a labour dispute. Then the FBI started their own investigation and it was widely reported that Daedone and Cherwitz were going to be charged with sex trafficking.
I felt rather like I do when told a married couple who enthusiastically embraced swinging had suddenly filed for divorce: who would have thought it, apart from absolutely everyone?
But I still found it hard to view the upfront, engaging Daedone as an evil sex slaver. Rarely has a person been more candid about their methodology and objectives; she was even transparent about her drive to monetise the practice.
It was also hard to say practitioners had zero idea what they were getting into, since their first view of OneTaste involved half-naked women reaching orgasmic plateaus in a group setting. But Daedone may well have encouraged some obsessive and vulnerable devotees to sit at her feet, amidst the hardy.
It's not hard to believe duty of care was woefully insufficient and that some members experienced severe regrets and trauma.
Even so, I'm troubled by the court case. Especially now that (dramatic drum-roll) Ayries Blanck's diaries have been disallowed as evidence, after the defence team substantiated their claim they were faked.
It transpired the hand-written journals were copied from a computer document years after the events described took place. Also that the computer file appears to have been edited by various interested parties, casting doubts on its authenticity.
Furthermore, Blanck's sister Autymn was paid $25,000 by Netflix to present archival material on behalf of her sister.
Another perturbing factor is the charge itself: 'conspiracy to commit forced labour', rather than 'forced labour'.
The odd wording may be due to the fact complainants admit no force was exerted on them. They were free to stay or leave OneTaste, to live in a communal house or elsewhere, to take breaks and use their mobiles as they pleased.
So, it seems to me that what's on trial might more properly be viewed as sway – the kind of charisma that makes people keen to do your bidding and seek approbation, or to feel outcast if that approval is withdrawn.
Many people will have had a boss, partner, parent or even religious leader who had this power over them. It can feel deeply unethical and people who have been in thrall to such personalities often bitterly regret their choices.
But they will also likely find that other followers still lionise and defend that mesmerising figure. Daedone walks to court flanked by women supporters.
Whatever your view on OneTaste, their alleged misdemeanours pale beside those of other high-profile cases going on in NYC at the moment: Sean 'Diddy' Combs trial for sex trafficking and Harvey Weinstein's appeal against rape and assault convictions.
Isn't it possible that Daedone and Cherwitz are careless kooks and egomaniacs, not sex offenders? And that if they are found guilty, we may enter a world where no one takes personal responsibility for questionable choices.
One where the state feels free to criminalise unconventional sex. If so, that is not a world I want to live in.
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