This is how FKED up Instagram is. They deleted my original account, and fair enough, I’ll allow them to have that one as I was pushing the boundaries more than is allowed, but NOWHERE NEAR as much as other accounts! So I created a new account and played by their rules only to have some dip shit get it removed. How do I know this asshole did this because some wanker created a supposed “fan” account… …his handle was ‘roganrichards_’ Name ‘ROGAN RICHARDS’ and only in his bio was the word ‘FAN PAGE’ used to show that he wasn’t trying to be me. This guy messaged 3 people I know so far asking them to follow and repost his profile, two of my best friends and my pup. I messaged the shit head from my pup’s account saying he needed to state that he is a ‘FAN PAGE’ in his account name. He said he had, cause he’s obviously stupid and doesn’t know the difference between a header and a bio.
I then messaged him myself from my account stating the same thing, also making it blatantly clear that if he was actually a “fan” (a word over-abused almost as much as “love”) he would make it clear that this account was not pretending to be me, esp after my original account was disabled and many people don’t know I have a new one AND so many other fake accounts have surfaced. Which would only confuse my followers and piss me off.
The next thing I know my new account and my pups have both been disabled. Coincidence? I don’t believe in coincidence. My pup managed to get his profile reinstalled by following the prompts. I did exactly what he did but when it lead to a page that he was allowed to plead his case, I was not given that option but rather had a popup message saying we will email you with a response. Meaning, we don’t give a FUCK and you won’t hear back from us. Because I have NEVER had a follow-up email from Instagram… EVER!
What really pisses me off is I have reported fake accounts who not only try to be me for attention but also to commit fraud and steal money from my followers, these accounts are still active. This cunt gets me and my boy’s account disabled in the space of an hour.
I get asked this all the time, how do I live my life being who I am and not allow all the nasty comments, narrow-minded judgments and blatant bitchiness from other gays affect me. If you only take one thing away from reading this article please let it be this… STOP SELF-SHAMING! Once you do that no one can make you feel ashamed or embarrassed of who you are or what you do. You take away their power to hurt you and you see their attacks for what they are, actually nothing to do with you and all to do with them.
I used to hate myself. I was shy and very insecure. I was frigid (believe that one?!) ashamed of my skin colour, voice, sexuality, and body. It took me years to overcome these things, some much longer than others. I’m not going to go into my personal journey from a shy child into a depressed teenager into a sex God and gay icon. All you need to know is you need to accept yourself before you can be yourself. In this life you need to find your TRUTH and accept it, own it, live it and LOVE IT! And if you don’t like who you are, fucking do something about it! And if you just rolled your eyes, I didn’t say it’s going to be easy but it can be done. I know because I did it. And once I did that people could throw all their hate at me and I couldn’t’ give a shit.
I remember when I started doing porn I heard a guy I had hooked up with had said, “Why is he doing porn? His cock’s not big enough.” At the time it made me self-doubt myself, and my, now famous and worldwide adored, beast cock. At the time I was still discovering my sexual confidence and more importantly having the courage to explore the sex that I wanted to have. And I wasn’t confident with my dick or how to use it.
Hating on each other has become the norm within our community and in our every day social behavior and though it is not the cause, social media has provided people with a platform to rip each other apart. The web, Facebook, Instagram, and dating apps has allowed all these people who have chips on their shoulders that hid away in their own misery a place to finally, and more often than not anonymously, come out and throw their shit onto everyone else. Trolling, bullying, hating and abuse has infested an amazing platform for connecting people, sharing life achievements, education, and open communication.
YOU CAN’T PLEASE EVERYONE SO JUST PLEASE YOURSELF.
I never have done anything for people to like me. Everything I do is to entertain myself, I only get to live this life once and I am not going to waste a FKIN second trying to live it to please anyone else. As long as I am not disrespecting or hurting anyone I just do me. And for someone to hate on me they have to actively find me, click on me, and do so. So what is this obsessive need to jump on someone else’s platform and shit negativity?
This leads us to the next most important thing you need to do, DO NOT ENGAGE!
Do not try to change anyone’s mind or argue with him or her to try and see your point of view. They don’t and they won’t. These people are blinded by their own self-hatred and loathing and are not open to any type of reasoning or common sense. I used to engage before I knew better and it is a complete waste of time and energy. And if you weren’t upset to begin with, you will be by the end of that conversation.
Most of the people that hate on you, or talk shit about you or what you do, DO NOT KNOW YOU!
They have never met you and they know absolutely nothing about you BUT think they do. And absurdly think they have some god-written write to criticize and comment on what you do. Of course, someone like me has to accept I will get the good with the bad. For every amazing comment there will be a nasty one. And I am not against an intelligent different point of view or stance against something I have said or good old-fashioned constructive criticism but we are talking about pure viscous nasty shit for the sake of hurting. Also, someone sees me post a muscle worship video of me flexing and talking all DOM and degrading and the motherfucker thinks that’s what I am like for real. Like I’ll walk past a stranger on the street who nods hello and my response is to rip my top off and flex in his face screaming, “You pathetic sub-human. Bow down in the face of alpha greatness!” (And if I was to do that and say, get a hard-on from doing it, who are they to judge what my fetishes are!)
I posted up a video the other day of me miming to Louise’s Naked. (Before my Instagram account was taken down. The new one is up @roganrichardsstrikesback. In the comments, a guy came at me for using “Camp” in a derogative way. I had said, “I don’t think you’re gonna see me more camp than this” Um. Where the fuck did I say “camp” is a negative thing? His attack was a direct response to his own issues with the word camp. So you see it doesn’t matter what I say or do, other people will react to it according to their own perceptions. I have no problems with calling myself camp or fem and if this cunt knew me, or checked out my BLOG he would see this for himself. Most of the time the people attacking you about something are just projecting their own issues about the thing they are accusing you of doing, in reality, doing just what they are accusing you of.
But once you see all this shit for what it is you can stop FKIN caring about it and you can get on with living your life the FKIN way you want too!
Admittedly I have done nothing I said I’d do since ky the last update and as many of you know I went through a pretty bleak period of depression. Since landing in London I have completely turned my shit around and am smashing it again! Started getting my ripe gear to those customers who have been patiently waiting. Had to take down my Shop page but it will be back soon with more stuff for you to choose from. In the meantime, my first UK sex show is at HARD ON and it is also my first FMF LIVE show so I’m calling all fans that wanna be fist or Foot fucked to prep, come and bend over! Also, the very anticipated podcasts will be coming soon.. Where I will also address my experience with depression and how I have manages it my whole life.
CALLING ALL MY LONDON FANS to my first FMF LIVE show at HARD ON
If you want to be FIST or FOOT fucked by your Muscle Master, prep, come and bend over!
…when I was called by an acquaintance of mine to join him with a client in a hotel one grey afternoon in London. As I was making my way there the client also started texting me as well, asking how filthy I would get with him? To which I replied as filthy as he could handle. He asked if I was ok with shit and I optimistically said yes.
I walk into the hotel room and I’m slapped in the face with the severe smell of sex, lube, and shit. I notice brown stains are already all over the bedsheets and my first thought is, “Fuck, poor room service.” So the other escort makes a hasty exit as soon as I arrive, which makes me think I am his replacement or either he’d had enough or had another job to go too. But not before instructing the client to get on his knees and service my cock and tell me to treat the client like a piece of scum. I say, “Ok.”
So I’m making the guy choke on my cock and spitting on him and I tell him, “You fucking worthless faggot, fucking beg to serve your Sir.” He mumbles some crap. I pull my cock out, slap him across the face, grab him by the back of his head and shove his face back onto my cock harder and deeper demanding, “Beg for it pig!” When I realize he can’t really breath with my cock choking him, let alone speak.
So I removed my cock and slap him across the face again, for good measure, maybe a little harder than he’s used too from the shocked expression he gives me and the fact that he mumbles, “A little less rough please Sir.” “You take what I give you sub!” I correct him. “Please Sir…” he replies meekly. I’m not positive if he is genuine or acting the part, realizing we didn’t set a ‘safe word’. Not wanting to interrupt the mood I tell him, “Get up and get on the bed, face down and spread your fuck hole.” Being the conformable sub that he is, he does so immediately and says, “Will Sir fuck my shitty hole?”
Well, that wasn’t where I was going with my dialogue but I’m not one to block an improv so I reply, “Spread your shitty ass hole!” He does so and I shove my cock hard into his ass, dry without lube, and start drilling his filthy hole like the fuck machine you are all accustomed to me being.
When I finally pull out and look down at my dick, it is to no one’s surprise I have shit all over it, so I instruct the guy, “Get on your knees and clean my cock!” Which he does with great enthusiasm. Once I’m satisfied it is completely clean and only after, I allow him to stand up. He tries to kiss me and I immediately shove his face away, in my head thinking “Eww!” But out loud saying, “Get back on the bed you filthy piece of shit!” And fuck him some more, mostly for lack of knowing what else to do with him.
So this shitty scenario continues for most of an hour, begging, fucking, degrading, mouth cleaning, repeated until the bedsheets look like a cow print instead of the crispy clean white sheets they began as. I had somehow successfully managed to keep the majority of all the shit off me considering how messy we have been. That’s when he asks if I’d stay an extra hour?
The novelty of brutally using this shitty guy as a wretched subhuman has worn off and I say I have to go. He then begs me to fist him. I point out, “I have no fisting lube with me.” He says, “You don’t need any.” I confirm, “You want me to just shove my fist up your ass without any lube?” He enthusiastically replies “Please Sir!” I guess it was his audacity to think that he could handle my muscular fist dry that triggers my curiosity or spite and sadism and I say, “Ok faggot bend over.” With no hesitation or tenderness, I thrust my fist right up in him.
And that’s the point where I reach my threshold. That moment when my hand bursts into his shitty bowels, like shoving it into a thick double chocolate cream cake with choc chips. I totally almost threw up on his back right then and there. I managed to hold the vomit back and retract my hand that was as you could imagine a sight to behold, not to mention the potent smell, which only makes me want to throw up more violently. Without a word and pretending I’m unaffected, I move as fast as I can to the bathroom and wash my arm the whole time dry retching. It is obvious to the guy I was not into playing shit castles inside him and he apologizes. I try and save face by saying, “It’s fine (Retching) I just have to (Retching) go…” So I shower, get my paper and leave.
As I walked amongst the bustle of Londoners going about their regular lives in the middle of the afternoon I made a mental note to contact Matt Spike and tell him I won’t be doing that skat film we had talked about collaborating on. I had come to the firm conclusion that the only skat I was into is MC Skat Cat.