Orgasm as Empowerment or Exploitation? Sex Coach Weighs In on the OneTaste Trial

Nicole Daedone heads to trial.

I’ve worked in the wellness industry for over a decade training bodies for strength, flexibility, stamina, and most importantly, pleasure. As someone who teaches clients how to reconnect to their bodies and improve intimacy through movement, I’ve seen how powerful sex-positive practices can be.

But I’ve also seen how easily “empowerment” can be co-opted. Which is why, when I first saw Nicole Daedone perform an orgasmic meditation demo at a studio in Manhattan’s Meatpacking District three years ago, I left with more questions than answers.

Was OneTaste a radical, women-led path to bodily liberation — or a coercive sex cult dressed up in buzzwords like “empowerment” and “healing”?

Daedone, founder of the sexual wellness startup OneTaste, was gently stroking the clitoris of her head of sales, Rachel Cherwitz, in front of over 100 guests, a mix of curious singles, high-powered professionals, and wide-eyed investors. For 15 minutes, Cherwitz lay naked from the waist down on a table with her legs toward the crowd, while cameras and microphones broadcast her moans to the room.

As someone who believes in reclaiming pleasure and breaking sexual shame, I understood the intent. But as a trainer who centers consent, boundaries, and informed choice, I couldn’t help but ask: Who is this performance really for?

At the time, OneTaste was already under fire. A Netflix documentary, Orgasm Inc., had surfaced damning allegations from former members: claims of coercion, financial manipulation, and sexual grooming disguised as personal growth. The event I attended felt like a rebuttal, a live defense of “orgasmic meditation,” a blend of clitoral stimulation and mindfulness Daedone positioned as the “yoga of sex.”

Today, Daedone and Cherwitz are on trial in Brooklyn, charged with forced labor conspiracy. If convicted, they face up to 20 years in prison. At the heart of the case is a single question: Was OneTaste a radical, women-led path to bodily liberation or a coercive sex cult dressed up in buzzwords like “empowerment” and “healing”?

Both women deny all charges. In an interview with The Spectator, Daedone dismissed the accusations as “an attack on my philosophy.” She compared the scrutiny to what yoga and psychedelics faced when they were first introduced to the West. “When people say, is this a cult? None of this is about laws being broken. They [the FBI] came up with conspiracy, which is a thought crime.”

As someone who guides people to reconnect with their bodies on their own terms, I find that statement chilling. The work I do, whether pelvic floor training or breath-centered movement, only works when autonomy is centered. Empowerment without consent is just coercion in a prettier outfit.

And consent is what former OneTaste members say was missing. According to testimony and Orgasm Inc., followers were allegedly promised trauma healing through OM (orgasmic meditation), only to be pressured into debt, group sex with clients, and communal living under 24/7 surveillance. Several say they were pushed to perform sexual acts in the name of “practice.” That’s not wellness. That’s manipulation.

To complicate matters further, the key piece of evidence, a former employee’s journal, was ruled inadmissible after it was revealed to be falsified. The FBI is now under investigation for possible misconduct related to the case. It’s a mess, to say the least.

But here’s what still stands: Power dynamics matter. Performance of pleasure is not the same as experiencing it. And not everyone who enters a wellness space is equipped to identify manipulation, especially when it’s wrapped in spiritual language and TED Talk polish.

Yet many former members remain devoted. They attend court daily in coordinated neutral-toned outfits, speaking to reporters about how OneTaste helped them feel alive, heard, and in control for the first time. I don’t doubt their sincerity. For some, OM was genuinely transformative.

But here’s the thing about cults, the most dangerous ones don’t look like cults. They look like empowerment workshops. They sound like podcasts about embodiment. They teach breathing, eye contact, “presence.” And slowly, they introduce rules. Hierarchies. Sacrifice. Obedience dressed as discipline.

As a coach, I’ve watched the wellness industry flirt with that line too many times. When someone tells you that your freedom lies in surrendering to their system, whether it’s orgasmic meditation or ice baths, ask who’s profiting. Ask what power you’re giving up in the name of healing.

There’s nothing wrong with seeking pleasure. There’s nothing wrong with wanting more from sex than what most of us are taught to expect. But real sexual wellness doesn’t require you to go into debt, give up boundaries, or orgasm on command in front of strangers.

Wellness that centers bodily autonomy shouldn’t land its leaders in federal court.

The jury will decide Daedone and Cherwitz’s fate. But for those of us in the business of healing, pleasure, and power, the cautionary tale is already clear.