Latest news with #femalepleasure
Telegraph
13-05-2025
- Entertainment
- Telegraph
How the founder of an ‘orgasmic meditation' startup ended up on trial
She was once hailed by Gwyneth Paltrow as a 'magnetic' sex guru who held the key to female pleasure. But after a damaging 2022 Netflix documentary and an FBI investigation, Nicole Daedone, a proponent of 'orgasmic meditation' and the founder of orgasm company OneTaste, is on trial with her former head of sales Rachel Cherwitz after being indicted on a charge of running a conspiracy involving forced labour. It's an extraordinary fall from grace. Just a few years ago, Paltrow was enthusiastically interviewing Daedone, 58, on her Goop podcast, while Khloé Kardashian chose Daedone's book Slow Sex: The Art and Craft of the Female Orgasm for her book club, saying: 'Orgasmic meditation is the key to ultimate satisfaction.' The practice involves female participants removing all clothing from the waist down and then having their clitoris manually stimulated by another person (often male) to induce sexual pleasure. But many of those involved with OneTaste are now viewing their experiences in a very different light, claiming that their vulnerability was exploited and that they were pressured into going too far. Is this simply regret reframed as accusation, or the emerging dark side of the powerful cult of wellness? OneTaste has a vivid if nebulous origin story. In her 2011 TEDx talk, Daedone shared how in 1998 she had met a man at a party who practised 'contemplative sexuality'. Daedone has since been hazy on said man's identity – she's described him variously as a monk, a Buddhist, or just a 'cute guy' – but she did explain in frank detail what they did together. Daedone lay down naked while the man shone a torch on her vagina and described the colours; her labia, apparently, were 'coral'. He proceeded to stroke her clitoris in a manner, she said, 'no firmer than you would stroke your eyelid,' and her response was life-changing. 'I just broke open, and the feeling was pure and clean.' Daedone then had her moment of revelation: 'Female orgasm is vital for every single woman on the planet.' And female orgasm has been a long-standing interest of Daedone's. She had previously been part of The Welcomed Consensus, a group specialising in female orgasm (along with friendship, sensuality and communal living). One member claimed she could sustain an orgasm for three hours, 'not including cigarette breaks'. In 2004, Daedone founded company OneTaste with coach and author Robert Kandell in order to share the practice, which she branded 'orgasmic meditation' (or OM, pronounced 'ohm'), with the masses. Their first base was a loft in San Francisco, and they quickly attracted 50 regulars, in their 20s and 30s, who took part in communal OM workshops. Those ritualistic sessions involved a woman lying on pillows (a 'nest' in Daedone's winsome lingo) with her legs bowed open (or 'butterflied'), naked from the waist down. Her fully clothed partner would don latex gloves, apply lubricant, and stroke her clitoris. The aim was to reach a satisfactory conclusion within 15 minutes: Daedone would set a clock timer. Over the next decade, OneTaste expanded its operations, setting up retreat centres in New York, Las Vegas and, in 2014, London, branded as TurnOn Britain. On the company's website, Daedone claims that at its peak it had 35,000 customers worldwide. Around 400 of those lived full time in the centres, renting rooms and working as dedicated staff who sold and delivered courses for OneTaste. But despite Daedone's rhetoric, this was not a philanthropic effort. According to a 2018 report in Bloomberg Businessweek, an introductory workshop cost $199 (£151), a weekend course $499 (£378), a retreat $4,000 (£3,000), and an annual subscription giving you access to all the courses was a whopping $60,000 (£45,000). If you wanted full training to become a certified coach, that set you back $16,000 (£12,000). Daedone published her book Slow Sex in 2012, comparing her philosophy to the Slow Food movement. OneTaste also sold everything from branded lubricant and pillows to instructional DVDs. It certainly didn't hurt that the chic wellness movement was skyrocketing. The New York Times put Daedone, a glossy advocate, on the cover of its style section in 2009. She also used trendy therapy speak, inviting women to 'sit in their power', and presented her practice as spiritual enlightenment and connection rather than sex. In her TEDx talk, which racked up more than two million views, Daedone spoke about the western woman's crisis: 'I work too hard, I eat too much, I diet too much, I drink too much, I shop too much, I give too much – and still there's this sense of hunger that I can't touch.' It was a well-crafted narrative; by 2017, OneTaste had an annual revenue of $12 million (£9 million), bases in nine cities and 150 employees. Then Hollywood came calling. In 2018, Gwyneth Paltrow invited Daedone on to her Goop podcast, telling her followers that Daedone's practice was 'the yoga of sex' – the ideal sales pitch for the wellness age. According to Bloomberg, staffers looking for new clients were encouraged to target young, beautiful women and awkward but well-moneyed tech bros, and to grab their attention with openers such as: 'How's your orgasm?' Former OneTaste lead instructor Ken Blackman noted that Silicon Valley was the ideal original market, since it could frame OM as 'a new operating system for human connection'. Former staffers told Bloomberg they played ice-breaker games at the start of OneTaste workshops that prompted participants to share vulnerable stories about their anxiety, loneliness or sexual trauma; staff took notes so they could hone future sales pitches for similarly troubled clients. OneTaste has denied this characterisation. Daedone herself had a turbulent childhood. Growing up in California with a single mother, she got pregnant accidentally aged 16 and had an abortion. In 1994, aged 27, she made the horrifying discovery that her birth father was dying in prison after being convicted of molesting two girls. At that point, she said, 'Everything in my reality just collapsed.' It was then that she began her spiritual studies. For OneTaste sales director Rachel Cherwitz, she had been diagnosed as anorgasmic (unable to achieve orgasm), and was recommended the company by her yoga teacher. She said that OM 'spoke to me in a pretty deep way'. But whether or not Daedone and Cherwitz's motives were originally pure, OneTaste became a formidable business empire. Former staffers have said they were terrified of Cherwitz's daunting goals. Ahead of events where staff were expected to recruit new customers, she would allegedly motivate her team by showing them a YouTube video of lions hunting in a pack. Staffers reportedly used porn movie terminology, referring to themselves as 'fluffers' (someone employed on porn sets to keep the male performer erect). One told Bloomberg: 'You fluff someone to get them energetically and emotionally hard. You were the dangled bait, like, 'You can have more of this if you buy this $10,000 course.'' Clients were allegedly encouraged to take out multiple credit cards so they could pay for more and more courses. Former director of reach Joanna Van Vleck said in 2018, 'We took money from people that we shouldn't have,' and added that the company had revised its policies. But it wasn't just participants shelling out thousands. Ruwan Meepagala worked for OneTaste for two years and left with $30,000 in credit card debt. When he complained about not getting paid, he said he was accused of having a 'scarcity mindset'. Other staffers reported being forced to work for free after getting into debt with the company, comparing it with a pyramid scheme. Hamza Tayeb was drawn right into the centre of OneTaste, even marrying Cherwitz. He recalled taking part in an event called Magic School in 2015 involving ceremonial piercing and dancers holding snakes. Daedone bestowed the title of 'priests and priestesses of orgasm' upon a chosen few, including Tayeb. Another former staffer said: 'It was a religion. Orgasm was God, and Nicole was like Jesus.' In 2018, after Bloomberg's damning report, OneTaste shut down its offices and retreats, pivoting to online education instead. In 2022, it rebranded as The Institute of OM. But the company had another crisis that year thanks to the investigative Netflix documentary Orgasm Inc. Its director Sarah Gibson said she was contacted by Emmy-nominated writer and director Lena Dunham and encouraged to look into 'the wellness industrial complex and unregulated alternative healing modalities'. Gibson's interviews with former OneTaste employees painted a grim picture. One said the organisation 'went from utopia to a hell hole'. Former staffer Ayries Blanck declined to be interviewed, according to the documentary, 'out of fear of reprisals,' but her story was told: in 2015, OneTaste paid her a $325,000 (£246,000) settlement after she claimed she was ordered to sleep with managers and clients, which she considered to be sexual assault. The FBI began an investigation into the company in 2018 for possible sex trafficking, prostitution and labour law infractions, and in June 2023, Daedone and Cherwitz were indicted on a count of conspiracy for forced labour. The indictment claimed that the pair had instructed members to 'engage in sexual acts they found uncomfortable or repulsive' in order to reach enlightenment, that resistance 'was not tolerated', and that the company withheld promised wages and commissions. It also accused OneTaste of subjecting participants to surveillance and indoctrination. Daedone and Cherwitz both pleaded not guilty. They face up to 20 years in prison if convicted. Last week, their criminal trial began in New York. US attorney Sean Fern told the jury: 'They recruited vulnerable women to perform sexual labour for their benefit' in return for 'power, prestige and money'. Fern also claimed: 'The victims came to OneTaste seeking personal growth. They left as shells of their former selves.' Cherwitz's lawyer, Mike Robotti, criticised the prosecution's 'frightening tales', and compared OM with 'yoga or CrossFit'. Robotti claimed that OneTaste employees 'were having fun, and they were having sex. The exit door was always open.' Daedone's lawyer, Jennifer Bonjean, has defended Harvey Weinstein, R Kelly and Bill Cosby. She said in her opening statement that the complainants are now married with kids and don't want people to know 'what they were doing in their 20s'. She continued: 'Grown people made grown decisions they don't want to stand by.' She has already scored one victory by getting a key piece of evidence thrown out: Blanck's handwritten journals, which featured in the Netflix documentary. It was later discovered that some portions had been copied from journals that were originally typewritten. Other former employees are now giving testimony, including one known as Becky. She told the jury that she was expected to perform OM 'with anybody off the street' when she was 23, adding: 'I was the perfect mark.' With little neutral evidence in play, it's a classic courtroom battle of competing narratives: Daedone's idea of sexual enlightenment and freedom versus former practitioners' alleged accounts of abuse and exploitation. It remains to be seen whether the jury decides that this temple of bliss was actually a world of pain.
Daily Mail
11-05-2025
- Entertainment
- Daily Mail
Who REALLY goes to sex parties? I went to an exclusive event in the sleepy British countryside with erotic dancers and a BDSM room - and was shocked at who I met
My eyes darted around and my palms began to sweat when friends asked me how I was spending the bank holiday weekend. 'Oh, not much,' I replied unconvincingly. The reality? I was off to my first ever sex party. I wasn't able to keep the truth to myself for long and soon blurted it out, much to the surprise of my loved ones whose mouths dropped open at the prospect. Then came the questions - people wanted to know where the risqué event would be held, who would be there and how one goes about bagging a ticket (purely out of interest, of course). But I had to let them down as I explained it was a members-only event - and the location was top secret. Run by Killing Kittens, a London-based sex party firm founded by Emma Sayle in 2005 in response to a growing demand for such events among young, single women, the event ensures female sexual pleasure is front and centre of its events, in a policy called 'kittens first'. While those who do not identify as a women are welcome to any of the events, Killing Kittens' membership is reserved for women, trans and non binary individuals. Amid the debauchery of its exclusive sex parties, it's only women who make the first move. FEMAIL reporter Poppy Atkinson-Gibson (pictured) donned her glad rags and a Venetian mask to visit her first ever sex party, courtesy of Killing Kittens When people found out I was off to a sex party they were shocked - but this is what really happens inside the exclusive private members sex club Killing Kittens Single men aren't allowed to attend and are only let in if they're in a couple with a woman. Think Bumble but with fewer clothes - and maybe some added BDSM. To apply for tickets, you must be a member of the 'Kittens Association', to which you are accepted following a vetting process. Once membership has been verified, you can buy tickets to various events held regularly at secret locations across the UK and Europe. But I was lucky enough to be offered a ticket, worth £200, without being a member - and so packed my bags and boarded a train to the top secret location in sleepy Berkshire. I rocked up at my hotel on Saturday, just a stone's throw from the secret location I would be arriving at later, and nervously checked myself in. I dumped my bags and headed to the bar where I ordered myself some liquid courage and something to eat. As I sat down I kept my eyes peeled for any sign that others around me might be attending the very same event later on but it was difficult to tell - everyone looked totally unassuming. The black tie masked ball took place in a secret location in Berkshire and included flowing drinks, aphrodisiac snacks and four upstairs playrooms complete with free condoms and BDSM gear The hotel contained all manner of guests, from hen parties to golfing buddies and even the odd middle-aged couple enjoying a few nights away from the children. After hastily gobbling down my dinner I went back to my room and got changed in to my black tie attire - a long sequined dress, silver heels, clutch and the compulsory Venetian mask before heading back to the bar where a crowd has already gathered, sipping on prosecco and G&Ts. It was easy to spot who would be attending this glitzy event later - I just had to keep an eye out for bow ties and sparkly dresses. As I made my way over, a woman in a sheer lace dress that showed off her underwear waved me over and asked me whether I was new here. My wide eyes clearly gave away my ingenue status; so she took me by the hand and started chatting away as though we were old friends who had bumped in to each other at the supermarket. 'How are you feeling?,' she asked, to which I replied I wasn't sure what to expect. The woman laughed and explained it was just a party and everyone comes because they want to have a good time and explore their sexuality. Killing Kittens was founded in 2005 by Emma Sayle (pictured) in response to a growing demand for adult parties for young, independent and single women 'There's not pressure to do anything, come, have a dance, meet some new people over a drink and see how you feel,' she said. 'The playrooms are upstairs and I know some people who don't fancy exploring them and just stick to the downstairs area - it's really normal.' She also revealed she was a regular attendee at Killing Kittens events - and insisted the experience only improves the more frequently you go. 'I know people now and it's nice to catch up with them,' she said. I couldn't help but wonder if it might be just as nice to catch up with friends over a coffee while fully clothed - nonetheless, it was difficult to deny this was an extremely friendly and welcoming bunch who greeted each other with kisses on cheeks and warm embraces. The woman explained she often thinks in advance about the people she wants to 'explore' with at certain events and then discusses logistics with them before the parties. She then asked me if I was on 'the apps', and explained that Killing Kittens runs an online forum members can use to chat to other members ahead of events. There are singles and couples rooms as well as over-40s threads where people can get flirty over message and share their kinks or explore potential sexual partners before the KK parties get underway. Other attendees told me they had come away on a girls weekend. The group of three comprised of two new singletons and one married woman - all of whom were mothers and had met via their children's primary school. Pushing their boundaries and taking a break from the humdrum of the sleepy village with the communal green and summer fetes, the trio had come dressed to the nines and ready for a good time. Before I knew it, the women were encouraging me to finish my drink and the crowd left in a cloud of excited energy. I arrived at a sumptuous Victorian mansion complete with gravel drive and looming front door, greeted by a chivalrous doorman who helped me out of the car and informed me I was a little early. To apply you have to join the 'Kittens Association' and after a vetting process, can buy tickets to various exclusive events held at secret locations across the UK and Europe He showed me to a parlor room where I waited along with the other early birds who lounged on plush sofas, masks on and a glass of complimentary prosecco in hand. Embracing an unofficial dress code of 'less is more', some of the attendees opted for racy outfits including garments like harnesses, garters and lingerie. When the clock struck 8.30pm, I was ushered into the main hall where seductive music played, every available surface was lined with flickering candles and red lighting cast the historic manner in a warm glow. I wandered through the downstairs rooms where a beautiful woman gave a guest a lap dance in a large cage on a podium, stripping down to a tiny set of underwear. Another dripped candle wax over her naked breasts as couples looked on, holding hands and nuzzling in to each other. Next to the sprawling bar a pole dancer twirled and a resident dominatrix encouraged the crowd to follow her around to watch the erotic acts. A waiter offered me a freshly shucked oyster and my choice of topping: lemon, Tabasco or red onion and informed me cheekily it would help me 'get in the mood for later'. Boxes of luxury dark chocolate infused with 'aphrodisiac' ingredients were scattered on high tables around the bar, which were served with prompts asking guests about their sexual preferences. As I was flicking through the prompts and nibbling on a square of delicious rose gold chocolate, a couple came over and asked if they could sit down. Expecting a potential chat up line I braced my ego, only to have to have it severely punctured when the woman explained her feet were already hurting her and she couldn't wait to take her shoes off. We quickly got chatting and the anonymous couple, faces hidden behind lacy Venetian masks, revealed how they had first got into sex parties. At a sumptuous Victorian mansion barely clothed dancers wandering around in harnesses and garters while couples in Venetian masks sipped cocktails at the bar and ate oysters The woman said that she had met her now fiancée while at work but they had held off dating until she left the business. The couple, who have been together for three years and had got engaged in Mauritius earlier this year, said they had always been interested in the idea of going to a sex party but it took a little while for them to dive in to it. 'We probably first thought about it after a year or so together and then it was just about finding the right one and we liked KK because it's so extravagant.' But they also revealed it hadn't been plain sailing. The man revealed they'd had a bumpy start in exploring the world of sex parties with mismatched experiences. Whereas he'd loved the first party they attended while she hated it, the second event they attended saw each experience the opposite. He further explained sex parties are 'overwhelming' for people who are new to the scene, and feelings of jealousy often creep in. However the stunning couple had clearly moved past any discomfort because they now credit Killing Kittens events with helping to spice up their sex lives. With that, they drifted off to watch an exotic dancer strip tease on a podium. Entranced by the erotic dancers and sultry music, I'd lost track of time - but when I saw a woman wandering around the dancefloor completely topless, I realised the PG hours of the evening had promptly wrapped up. Looking around, I realised the crowds had dissipated and masks had been ripped off and before I knew it I was entangled in a snaking queue for the cloakroom - where couples stood patiently in line in nothing but their underwear. Women were wearing fuchsia pink crotchless panties, black one pieces, garters and stockings, tiny thongs and nipple pasties. Unfortunately the men failed to bring similar glamour; many standing around in boring boxer pants and patterned socks, donning their shirts undone after taking off their bow ties. As the queue went down I realised they were trading in their suits and dresses for large sports bags full of new costumes and toys. One man leaned in to me and joked it was easy to pick out a first timer - I had no bag. He added that the best way to prepare was to bring a separate bag full of fresh underwear, toys, whips or paddles and anything else you like and that way you can carry it from room to room. With that he gave me a wink and wandered off up the grand staircase - and I bashfully looked away after noticing he showed signs he was very much ready for a night of passion. I reversed, gulped the last dregs of my drink and decided it was time to explore upstairs. As I ascended to the playrooms (secret spaces upstairs where couples and individuals can sexually explore themselves and each other) I weaved between people slowly stripping off, letting their hands wander and pulling potential conquests along by their ties. When I got to the top a huge sign explained the rules: no men allowed in the playrooms on their own, consent is key and a KK ticket is not blanket consent to everything. If you feel unsafe or unsure staff are on hand and identifiable by their glowing red armbands. One couple, who had been together for three years said going to Killing Kittens kept the spark alive in their relationship but they'd struggled with feeling jealous initially On the landings, people walked around naked without a care in the world, dipping in and out of the four different rooms. The largest room contained three huge beds draped in black bedsheets and covered in writhing naked bodies. Couples having sex quickly gave way to groups of six or more climbing on top of each other. Underneath the thumping music I could hear exaggerated moans from participants, punctuated by slaps (and of course, polite requests for consent). The politeness cut through the silhouettes of people bent over pommel horses or being spanked by strangers and a snippets of 'may I touch your breasts?', 'can I remove your panties?', 'mind if I join in?' Safe sex is a priority at Killing Kittens events, and a bowl of condoms was available for all participants. Attendees also have to complete an STI test before they check into events. After seeing more than I'd bargained for in the master room, I continued exploring elsewhere and found a lair containing items that made me blush - a BDSM chamber. A couple were making full use of the props available as a young woman was strapped into a sex swing while a man wearing a leather harness pleasured her. On the opposite wall a man stood spread-eagled and tied to four corners of a large X while he was spanked by a woman in towering stilettoes and nothing else. Groups writhed on the beds in the centre of the room and I made eye contact with a man in tight leather zip-up vest and matching budgie smugglers who made his way over to me and leaned in for a kiss - which I politely declined. As I left the room a woman asked me if I'd seen her underwear to which I confessed I hadn't. 'Always wrap your knickers around your wrist - that's my advice,' as she rolled her eyes and continued scrabbling on the floor. Throngs of sexually charged couples moved through the rooms fluidly, dipping in and out of different areas depending on their mood, the music, and the toys on offer. At 10.30pm masks were ripped off and couples ran upstairs to make the most of the playrooms (darkened rooms for members to enjoy exploring each other sexually) The beds were full and the walls were dotted with women performing their own impromptu erotic dancers or couples canoodling in darker corners. One man simply followed his partner around, lightly slapping her bottom, enraptured by her sultry walk. Downstairs was a much more PG affair with fully-clothed pairs elegantly sipping on their drinks as they stretched out on sofas and in chairs, soaking up the ambience. One couple began to get hot and heavy in a conservatory but were told discreetly to move upstairs if they wanted to 'indulge themselves'. With a knowing look, they shuffled past me and obliged. Breathlessly, a couple I'd briefly chatted to earlier bounded up to me - he in his boxers, strutting confidently and muttering about needing a quick vape break and she dressed in nothing but a black sheer body suit with a blazer lazily slung over her shoulders. She asked me how I'd found my evening with a twinkle in her eye and I replied it had been extravagant and fun. She then informed me this was nothing - when she'd attended a previous party, a husband had got so drunk he's been escorted out, much to the chagrin of his wife who had just started getting off with a woman she'd had her eye on for some time. As the husband, a tall, lean Irishman thrust his crotch at me I glanced at my phone - my Uber was almost here. 'You're staying at the same hotel as us aren't you?' they asked. 'There's a fantastic steam room there you know, we tried it out last you had time to use it?' When I shook my head, the man continued to ask if I might be interested in exploring said steam room with them in a ménage à trois - something his wife was equally keen on. With my check-out at 11am and a train back to the Big Smoke already booked I politely declined - but he was not to be dissuaded. 'Extend your checkout - it's not much extra and we can have a quick session in the morning'. Thankfully I didn't need to think of another excuse because at that moment, my car had arrived. I waved and clumsily shouted behind me that it would be lovely to have a debrief over a continental spread tomorrow if they were around, before being whisked away back to the hotel. Sitting down for breakfast in the hotel, I noticed several of my fellow diners were fellow Killing Kittens attendees and, as they walked into the restaurant fully clothed, I struggled to shake images of them in lacy lingerie and strappy leather harnesses as they swapped partners and took part in racy activities just hours earlier. But here they were deciding between fried or scrambled eggs at breakfast and attempting to toast bread on those frustrating conveyor toasters found only in hotels. The lady who had first welcomed me at the party the night before shuffled over and asked how my night had been. Telling me that she hoped to see me again soon, she reached past me for a croissant and went on with her life, leaving no hint to the outside world that, for a few nights of the year, she transforms into a hedonistic thrill seeker boldly exploring her sexuality.
