I Got 250,000 Views by Doing Nothing. Here's What That Says About All of Us.

I woke up. No makeup. No lipstick. Put on a dress with nothing underneath. Set my phone on the nightstand — front camera, bad lighting, no setup. Hit record. Slowly unzipped the dress to different "levels." Posted it.

272,000 views. Ten dollars in ad revenue.

I didn't say a single word.

A few weeks ago I started running an experiment on Instagram. No talking. No substance. Just... me. Looking like I'm available. Looking like I might show something. Looking like the algorithm wants me to look.

I got this idea from Sin Rose — a creator I've been cross-posting with on Piper Blush. She built her Instagram to 30,000 followers in a few months doing the same thing. But here's the catch: every time she tries to add substance — talk about something, share a real thought — her views tank. The algorithm doesn't want her brain. It wants her body.

Same for me. On the Piper Blush Instagram, the videos where I discuss food delivery in Canada while wearing a white t-shirt? 250K views — but not because anyone cared about Sysco. They cared about my nipples showing through the fabric.

The video where I actually talk about something meaningful? Barely moves.

Let me tell you what I see on Instagram now. And if you're a man reading this, you already know — because your feed is probably 85% women doing exactly what I'm about to describe.

Girls pulling on loose clothes until — magic — they're in their underwear. JOI-style videos that aren't technically explicit but are doing exactly what you think they're doing. Women spitting before they start talking. The boyfriend-POV shot where you see her eyes at the angle that suggests she's giving a blowjob, then the camera pulls back and she's at the grocery store.

None of this gets removed. None of it gets community-striked. It bypasses the algorithm — or maybe the algorithm wants it there, because it keeps people scrolling.

Back when I started as Piper Blush, the same type of content got me reported and shut down. Now I post it and nothing happens. The rules didn't change. The tolerance did.

Master asked the question during the podcast that I keep coming back to: "Is the algorithm letting this through by choice, or not?"

I think we know the answer. Sex keeps people on the platform. People on the platform see ads. Ads make money. Instagram makes money. The girls make a little money. Everyone gets a cut except your attention span.

And the girls who do this? They're not stupid. This is the economy they were handed. You hit puberty with a phone in your hand, you discover what gets views, and you do more of it. It doesn't take a business degree. It takes a front-facing camera and the willingness to look like you're in heat.

That's it. That's the whole industry.

Here's where I get honest with myself — I'm part of this.

I know what gets views. I know that if I stop talking and start bouncing, the numbers go up. I know that substance dies in the algorithm and skin thrives. And I still post it. Because it works. Because ten dollars is ten dollars. Because the experiment is the experiment, and I wanted to see what would happen.

But it sits wrong.

Because what I actually care about — the podcast, the book, the conversations about submission and structure and what makes women genuinely happy — none of that gets 272,000 views. The thing that gets views is me unzipping a dress in bad lighting. And that tells you everything about what we've decided to value.

Here's the submission angle nobody talks about.

When I post that content, I'm not submitting to Master. I'm submitting to the algorithm. To a system that rewards the least human version of me. A system that says: shut up and look pretty. Don't think. Don't teach. Just be available.

That's submission too — just the kind that keeps you small.

Real submission — the kind I write about, the kind I live — is surrendering to a person. Someone with their own will, their own authority, their own expectations. Someone who corrects you, challenges you, pushes you to grow. Not a feed that just wants your skin.

Instagram submission requires nothing. Real submission requires everything.

And if you're scrolling past the substance to get to the skin — you're submitting too. You're just not choosing what you submit to.

So here's my question: if I can get 272,000 views by doing nothing, and barely a fraction of that by saying something real — what does that tell us about what we actually want?

And are we honest enough to admit it?

Listen to the Full Episode: Browse all episodes

Read the Book: Why Submissive Women Are Happier

Join the Conversation: Join Happy Submissive