PSA: How I beat the Twitter shadowban

This is a ‘how to get rid of a Twitter shadowban’ public service announcement for anyone whose Twitter account has been shadowbanned long term.

I posted about my Twitter shadowban (what it is, how it works, and the wider issue for adult content creators on social media platforms), way back in October last year. My account was shadowbanned before that and had been shadowbanned ever since.

After trying everything anyone threw at me as worth trying, I finally gave up on that account as terminally shadowbanned and started over with a new Twitter account. Ugh.

Yesterday the Twitter shadowban on my original account was lifted.


What inadvertently worked for me was ‘misbehaving’ so that my account got restricted by Twitter. When I followed the instructions to unrestrict it, my shadowban was also lifted.

Note: This is not worth doing UNLESS you have been shadowbanned for ages. Most shadowbans are short term (a few days, a week) and then it gets lifted automatically (presumably after you have learned some lesson even though nobody will tell you what lesson it is that you are supposed to have learned…).


  • I removed all app authorisations (auto-tweets of blog posts, old post tweetery, posts to facebook, random ‘whatevers’ etc) from the account and and locked it (not sure any of that made a difference, but just including it to be thorough)
  • I removed my cellphone number from the account settings
  • I stopped posting manual tweets on that account
  • I set up a NEW auto-tweet for that account using (‘If This Then That’). The tweet essentially said ‘this account is no longer active’ and included a gif. It was configured to go out once every three days
  • Twitter flagged my account as ‘restricted’ after two of those auto-tweets were posted because it identified them as spam (repeat auto-tweets of the same text = spam). This despite the fact that they were several days apart (I have no idea if it would have been different if I had posted OTHER things in between those two tweets or if it would have attracted a harsher response if I had set it up to post more frequently: It’s all a mystery)
  • When I tried to access the account, it told me it was restricted due to suspected spammy activity, and asked me for my phone number as verification. There was NO other choice for unrestricting the account apart from adding my cellphone (that is, they did not say ‘add your phone number OR [do some other thing]‘).
  • I added my phone number, they sent me a verification code
  • I entered the code and voila: My account was unrestricted AND unshadowbanned

I deleted my number from my profile afterwards and (so far) the unrestricted/unshadowbanned status has remained.

Twitter has recently cracked down on ‘tweetdecking‘ which involves people with many many accounts all tweeting the exact same content to make things trend, and I’m not sure if this absolute zero-tolerance for duplicated auto-tweets is a result of that or not. BUT if it *is* a result of that, then I expect they might refine their algorithms to give a bit more leeway to legitimate users, after which this process might not work.

If you try it and it works, or doesn’t, please leave a comment so anyone finding this post will know if it’s worth a go.

SMALL PRINT DISCLAIMER: I take no responsibility for the possibility that trying this may result in some more severe action from Twitter, try at your own risk, no correspondence will be entered into, [insert other blame-deflecty statements here], and etc…!

Loves: 3
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e[lust] #140

Welcome to Elust 104

The only place where the smartest and hottest sex bloggers are featured under one roof every month. Whether you’re looking for sex journalism, erotic writing, relationship advice or kinky discussions it’ll be here at Elust. Want to be included in Elust #105 Start with the rules, come back April 1st to submit something and subscribe to the RSS feed for updates!


~ This Month’s Top Three Posts ~

A Wank and a Spank

The S Word

At My Feet


~ Featured Post (Molly’s Picks) ~

Boarding School Survivor


~Readers Choice from Sexbytes ~

Ode to the 69


*You really should consider adding your popular posts here too*
All blogs that have a submission in this edition must re-post this digest from tip-to-toe on their blogs within 7 days. Re-posting the photo is optional and the use of the “read more…” tag is allowable after this point. Thank you, and enjoy!

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(re) Follow me on the twitter


*** CLICK HERE TO (RE)FOLLOW ME: Ferns__ ***.

I’m following back and everything so come and clickety-click.

Note: Just to confuse you, yes, my twitter account name IS THE SAME AS BEFORE, but it IS a new account and you STILL have to re-follow me.

Background story and bitchery: If you’ve been reading this blog (or other sex bloggers) over the past few months, you’ll know about the pornocalypse which is about social media platforms stifling (or outright banning) the voices of adult content creators (in case you haven’t noticed, that’s me!).

My twitter account, which I have had since 2010(!), had been shadowbanned for months. I posted that story about shadowbanning in October. I was shadowbanned well before I posted it (for how long exactly, I don’t know: They don’t tell you when or why). And I have been shadowbanned ever since.

When you are shadowbanned, you can still tweet, but only people who already follow you can see your tweets, which means that whatever you say is bouncing around a closed group. Most users who were shadowbanned if they did something ‘bad’ (like *gasp* show a nipple or something) had the ban lifted after a week or so, and here I was months and months later and still banned. I had not done anything to break any rules as far as I was aware, and I post nothing explicit, so there was nothing to ‘fix’ to get un-shadowbanned, and still it persisted.

I tried every strategy that had ever been thought of or mentioned anywhere to get around whatever algorithm I had been caught up in without result.

I took to raising it with twitter support every few days (I raised it previously, but now I was just popping into their support-bot every couple of days to report some version of the same thing). Then the support-bot started pretending not to understand what I was saying (I assume they identified me as a spammer for bothering them too much and were no longer accepting my reports).

At that point I decided I had to abandon my account and start over to get out from under the shadowban *dramatic music*.

Anyone who has had a social media account for many years and who has some emotional investment in it knows how big a deal that is (those who haven’t are probably thinking ‘OMG shut up already!’ :P). To put it in perspective, I had posted over 86,000 tweets, ‘liked’ over 11,000 pieces of content from others, and had over 1,500 followers. So starting again from scratch means abandoning all of that. First world problem, absolutely. Still feels like ‘a thing’. Relationships with and on social media carry weight for those who invest in them.

Luckily, twitter allows you to re-use the same account name immediately after you change the original so I did NOT have to update links all over the internet (the link is also in my books, including hard copies: Eek!). So my NEW twitter nickname is the same as before, but it’s still a completely different account (I know: confusing).

Bottom line: If you were following me before, you have to re-follow me on my new account.

So, come and (re)follow me: Ferns__ (double underscore).
I’m following everyone back right now, so come get some of that sweet sweet follow back action.

Loves: 8
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Come home

My last submissive was long distance.

Our alternative for ‘I miss you’, which we said with increasing frequency and heart-aching sadness as time went on, was a whispered “When are you coming home?”

“When are you coming home?”
“Soon, baby, I’ll be home soon.”

I can’t quite remember if it came from this song which I adore, and which I had never heard before he sent it to me.

But today I listened to this and smiled. It reminded me of him, but it’s not for him any more. It’s for the beautiful submissive man I haven’t found yet.

“I’ve been alone far too long
When are you coming home, my love?”

Loves: 14
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Happy Femdom: Longo Afar

Longo landed in my inbox with lovely compliments on my writing, and when he shared the fact that he was happily coupled up and exploring F/m with his wife, I asked if he would mind telling his story. He kindly agreed, and this sweetness is the result :).

Author: Longo Afar

Dear Ms. Ferns,

Having had the benefit of so much of your writing, I am of course pleased to oblige you with a small piece of my own. Though written from my perspective, the happy femdom story below as been reviewed and approved by my wife. Feel free to add it to your collection, which I have enjoyed reading over the last few months. It was an inspired idea for a project and we would both be delighted if we might contribute to it.

–Longo Afar

Our story is, I suspect, rather typical for most femdom relationships. It began one night when I had too much to drink and my wife talked me into putting on some of her lingerie “just for fun.” She then took pictures that she used to blackmail me into complete and utter slavery. Most of my life is now spent in a small cage in a dark corner of our basement, from which I am only released for whippings, canings, household chores and oral service. I am typing this story with my nose because She has decreed that my hands must forever remain bound behind my back.

OK, that’s not how our story really goes. But it is how it started, with typical femdom fantasies. Obsessive and marvellous fantasies that I could not get out of my head. Like many, I tried seeking professional help. Yet while pro-dommes provide a wonderful service, and I learned a lot from the occasional sessions I could afford, the main lesson was that this experience just wasn’t quite doing it for me. I therefore decided that my fantasies would remain simply that, and real life would proceed elsewhere.

When I married my wife, I did not tell her anything about this secret world. No, no, best not to scare her off and these dreams would never impact our real lives together anyway. But deep-rooted desires have a way of becoming insistent and nosing into places they shouldn’t. So at one point, I shared a fantasy or two. And what do you know, she was game. We tried a little cross-dressing, dabbled in bondage, and a small butt plug even appeared in our tool kit. It was fun, but somehow these sparks never really caught fire.

Such stabs at S&M bliss would recur at various odd intervals over several years, but then fade as the novelty waned and demands of career, child-rearing and other life events sapped our time and energies. In fact, as time passed I could feel the energy draining from our relationship. Pettiness, nagging and, most insidious of all, indifference were all becoming the hallmarks of our day-to-day lives. I was worried and started to wonder whether a little fantasy might be needed to rescue our reality.

The problem, I realized, was that my past efforts were focused on realizing my fantasies with her just playing along. Could there be a form of femdom that appealed to real women, like my wife? Happily in the years since our wedding the magic of the internet has grown in reach and power. Online research led me to writers (such as the ever wonderful Ferns) who showed that genuinely dominant women in fact existed and explained just what might interest such a woman in pursuing that type of a relationship with a willing partner.

Specifically, I learned to accept and value myself as a submissive and view my submission as a gift that women, OK maybe some women, all right hopefully one woman would be pleased to accept. And while submission was arousing to me, it had to be about more than just sex. It was a whole relationship framework that required carefully negotiation and patient development.

My next femdom pitch to my wife was therefore much more focused on her needs and desires, and went far beyond playtime in the bedroom. She is a strong woman, who likes to run things, and so the idea of her being in charge of the relationship proved very appealing to her. A lot of the niggling conflicts that had been dogging our interactions soon disappeared, as outright bickering or passive resistance was replaced with yes ma’am, let’s do it your way. And it was an enthusiastic “yes ma’am” on my part because we both knew that she was expressing her dominance over me and we both loved it.

We are about a year into the great reformation and are taking it slowly. Do we have the protocols? Yes we have the protocols. But nothing too elaborate or tiresome. I say my pledge of allegiance to her every morning and give her a special kiss every night at bedtime. And before bedtime? I don’t know why I used to want to keep introducing new toys since what she does with her fingernails and bare hands is simply mind-blowing for me. And she pushes my buttons of submissive pleasure, with increasing skill and confidence, not because she likes to hurt me, but because she loves to see me so blissed out under her control.

That is where I want to stay, focused on her, loving her, living in obedience to her. And yes, I would type this story with my nose if she asked me to. But it’s probably best to leave some things in fantasyland.


This post is part of an ongoing project to share positive happy femdom relationship stories. If you have a story that you are willing to share, I’d love to host it. Please check out my call out post for details and send it on to me.

For an entire book of Happy Femdom Stories, click here.

Loves: 10
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He followed her home #amwriting

CopyrightSnippet from fiction WIP by Sharyn Ferns

Yesterday I woke up with an F/m fiction story almost fully formed in my mind.

This has never happened. NEVER.

I don’t write fiction, I just don’t get story ideas like that, and long form isn’t my strength. When I’ve tried to force it (and I have tried), the result feels contrived, flat. I’m reluctant to say ‘I’m not good at it’ for fear of jinxing what I’m writing now, but I have thought that for a long time (and I’ve absolutely said it out loud before).

But I wrote some 20 pages of it yesterday, madly putting down what was in my head. I made myself cry with my own writing (sad bits, oh my). I haven’t re-read it yet. I’m hoping I’m still excited about it when I sit down to it a bit later.

I tried to write a synopsis here for you, but I have a very delicate hold on the work and I started to get frustrated with not being able to come up with something that worked, so I had to drop it.

The line I like best from it right now:

Unfathomable sorrow is noisy and relentless.

Fingers crossed I can keep hold of my muse so you will get to see the result.

Loves: 13
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I don’t like to ask

Public domain mark'Untitled' by milivanily

I’ve talked about the vulnerability of asking before, but apparently I have more to say on it.

Asking something of a submissive I’m talking to, expecting something of them, then paying attention to it, prompting them to do better: These are all ways that I communicate that I care. That I’m invested. That I’m trusting them with small pieces.

I don’t like to ask things of people. I know that will sound odd to some who have an idea that a dominant woman is all about asking, nay demanding, things.

But to me, asking something of someone is an attempt to make a connection, a binding of sorts. There is a kind of link there, both in the asking and in the doing what’s been asked.

In a lot of ways it makes me profoundly uncomfortable to ask for things, not least because it makes me feel vulnerable (to a ‘no’, to disappointment, to a feeling of not being heeded, valued, respected). I feel failure from asking as a kind of rejection (‘rejection’ is not quite the right word there, it conjures up something significant, but it’s more a ‘forgot to put sugar in my coffee and ew it’s bitter’ level of feeling).

If I don’t care about that person, I rarely want to enter into that small social contract with them. So I won’t ask, I won’t expect, I won’t pay attention, I won’t prompt.

If I do ask something of someone, and they disappoint me in it, I will feel like offering that tiny snippet was a mistake, I trust them a little less. It doesn’t have to be a big thing, and usually it’s not, it’s tiny.

And trust is not a yes/no switch. It’s a continuum.

I trust people often with big things and not small things. We all do. I trust pretty much everyone I meet not to steal my wallet out of my bag if I leave it with them. It’s a thoughtless kind of trust we all have: There is a clear ‘right and wrong’ in it.

But I may not trust that person to send me a text when they say they will. Something infinitely smaller in scale, but along a completely different dimension of ‘trust’.

They each require different levels of trust, and with the first there is the weight of law and society behind it. People know it’s wrong, there is no equivocation, no decision in it, and the consequences of doing it are dire because they go well beyond some small social contract between individuals. It’s really not a lot to do with me.

With some small thing like a promised text, though, there is no cost in breaking that small trust that has been placed in the agreement they made. Nobody gets hurt, there is no financial cost, there is no physical impact, it’s no big deal.

It’s a small thing. Worthless almost.

“Yeah, I know I said I would, I just forgot/fell asleep/didn’t think it was important/got busy/something.”

If they haven’t yet piqued my interest, I won’t talk to them about it because I just don’t care. It’s more a simple observation that ‘oh, so that’s how you are, I see’. My investment in them is low, and my desire to have to have a conversation about it (i.e. ‘making a big deal’ about it) is nil.

I asked, I offered something, it’s a small vulnerability. Tiny. And if they don’t step up, I feel it.

I file it away as a piece of information about them, and expect less of them going forward.

It’s not a show stopper, it’s just information in the first instance. But repeated demonstrations of their inability to do small inconsequential things I ask for will logically lead me to stop asking and stop expecting anything.

And when I get down to expecting nothing, I will no longer reach out, I will drift away.

I don’t get angry or upset, that would be ludicrous.

But asking for things makes me vulnerable, it puts a tiny piece of me out there to be kept safe or trodden on. I’m seeing if I can trust them enough to see and value some very small thing that I have offered.

And if I find that I can’t, I notice, and I will withdraw it.

Loves: 32
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