10 Questions About That Time I Sat on a Cake

Q. So… Why?

A. A friend invited me to a birthday party her mom was co-hosting. The group of people who would be in attendance are, by and large, queer kinksters, some of whom have an interest in cake-sitting and other forms of “wet and messy” kink play (“sploshing“). I am a sex nerd and a perv so of course I accepted this invitation.

Q. Why are people into cake-sitting?

A. I can’t speak to this from personal experience, because this isn’t a kink of mine – but I asked around at the party, and most folks cited the wet-‘n’-messy quality of the act and its taboo nature as the main draws to this kink.

I also wonder if it maybe has to do with the fact that cakes (and, in particular, birthday cakes) are some of the most exciting objects many of us encounter during childhood: they’re the sugary, candlelit trophy at the climax of every joyful birthday party. A lot of common kinks seem to be related to sources of childhood fear, shame, and/or joy – so it makes sense to me that cake could become a locus of kinky lust, as could the act of destroying such an illustrious symbol by crushing it with your ass.

Q. What did you wear?

A. I wanted to wear something fun and celebratory in colors that reminded me of birthday cakes. My outfit consisted of a hot pink bandana, a turquoise Tarina Tarantino heart necklace with an Alice in Wonderland illustration on it, a pink Gap bralette, a translucent pink striped tank top from Ardene, a pair of turquoise zigzag-striped MeUndies boyshorts, and some pink kneesocks from the now-defunct American Apparel. On my way to and from the party, I threw on some black shorts and a black leather jacket over this ensemble, to make it a little more subdued.

Q. If it’s not a kink of yours, why did you do it?

A. I thought it would be fun. I’m a big believer in the idea that you should make at least some of your life choices based on what will make for the better story – even moreso since I became a professional writer – and this seemed like it’d be a good story to tell. Plus, I was curious whether I would have sexual feelings about sitting on a cake. There are a few minor kinks of mine that I genuinely didn’t know were my kinks until I tried them for the first time.

Q. How did you select what type of cake to bring?

A. I’m not culinarily inclined so I just dropped by a grocery store to grab a cake before the party. I thought a smallish round one would probably be best, since I could crush the whole thing with my ass. My decision was also, admittedly, partly based on what I would most like to eat (and, indeed, my friend and I each had a small slice of this cake before I sat atop it).

I deeply wish I had not chosen a chocolate cake! As you can see, the whole effect is a bit fecal, to say the least. (And I ruined my underwear. Whoops.)

Q. What makes for a good cake-sit?

A. I don’t really know, to be honest. While sitting on this cake/posing for these photos, I was being directed by my friend, who is a photographer, and a pal of hers who was spectating, who is also a photographer but has an actual kinky interest in cake-sitting. As a result, I’m not sure which of the directions they gave me were for the sake of better photos and which were for the sake of a better cake-sit. They told me to face away from them and lower myself down onto the cake in a straddling position, as you can see, but I think that was more for visual appeal than, uh, butt-feel.

I will say that drawing out the cake-sit into a long, slow lowering seems to be the way to go. I’m sure there are people who are into smashing cakes fast and hard with their butt, but for your first attempt, you probably wanna be able to feel every achingly slow nuance of the experience.

Q. Doesn’t sitting on a cake give you a yeast infection?!

A. This was my concern, too. I’m still not quite sure how people do this without getting vaginal infections left and right, especially if they don’t wear underwear like I did.

I’m relatively prone to vaginal infections and didn’t get one after doing this, which I chalk up to 1) wearing underwear, 2) sitting mostly on my ass and not on my vag, 3) washing up almost immediately afterward, and 4) dumb luck.

Q. What did it feel like?

A. You know that feeling when you sit on the ground outside (say, at a park picnic or a kids’ baseball game) and slowly realize you’ve sat in some mud? It’s a cold, gooey, creeping feeling. Cake-sitting reminded me of that, except with an added squishing/crushing sensation as the cake deflated under the weight of my ass. It was a bit like someone with a cold, squishy dick was ineptly trying to fuck me but drastically missing both of my holes.

It made me wonder what it would be like to sit on some kind of warm pastry, like a recently-baked cherry pie. I suspect that would be a more pleasant feeling, though it depends on what you’re going for.

Q. Did you like it?

A. I think I was more into the spectators’ reactions than I was into the sensation itself – which is fine and makes sense, if you think about how many kinks are more about people’s reactions to them than the activity itself. (Spanking and sexual exhibitionism come to mind.)

The wetness/messiness/”grossness” of the experience just kind of stressed me out. I wonder if that would have been less true if I had been wearing underwear I didn’t care about ruining! But overall, I had fun, and I’m glad I did it.

Q. How do you clean up afterward?

A. My friend gave my butt and thighs an initial scrubdown with a damp washcloth. (True friendship, folks.) Then I went into the house and stripped out of my underwear in the bathroom so I could give my butt and vulva a more thorough going-over, also with a damp washcloth. There was more cake/chocolate on my bits than I had expected there to be, but I managed to get it all off pretty easily. Unfortunately, my panties were not so lucky: I washed ’em thoroughly with soap and cold water (hot water locks in stains!) but they still have permanent chocolate stains. So sad.

Have you ever sat on a cake or engaged in other forms of food play or “sploshing”? Is this something you’d be interested in doing? Got any tips for me if I ever attempt it again?

5 Ways I Use Mindfulness to Lose Weight

Dear darlings: I know that weight talk and body stuff can be tough for some of you. It’s never my intention to shame you or make you feel bad, and this post definitely won’t aim to do that – but if you know that this subject matter is tricky for you, I encourage you to skip this post. You know what’s best for you, my friend!

I’m a chubby bunny, and mostly I’m okay with that. I’ve been lucky enough to have lovers and suitors in my life who’ve lavished attention on my curvy bod, making me see that my wide hips, soft belly and thunder thighs might not be the end of the world.

That said: my body seems to work better at a weight that’s a little lower than where I’m at right now. Currently I hover around 165 pounds, and when I’m down around 140-150, I feel stronger, healthier, happier, and more energetic. And who doesn’t want that?!

Last summer I lost 20 pounds (most of which I gained back from the stress of school and a break-up – oh, woe!), and during that process I learned a lot about habit formation, nutrition, and self-control strategies that work for my particular brain. As far as tangible processes go, calorie-counting is the only thing that’s ever worked for me – but my calorie-counting successes were only made possible by practicing mindfulness.

What is mindfulness? It’s an old, old concept often attributed to Buddhism. It’s the practice of being present, of being here now, of noticing and fully experiencing the sensations and thoughts and events of the current moment. When you’re being truly mindful, you don’t replay the past or worry about the future. You just be – here and now and only here and now.

You may be familiar with the idea of mindfulness if you practice meditation or yoga, or if you’ve studied facets of the Buddhist tradition, or even if you’ve used certain psychotherapeutic techniques like CBT or deep breathing. It’s all part of the same overarching idea, but today I’m going to tell you specifically about how mindfulness helps me lose weight. (If phrases like “lose weight” bother you, you can sub in the phrase “get healthier” – the same principles apply!)

1. Mindful eating.

I am still learning how to do this well. Meal times are often blessed breaks from work, so it’s natural to want to kick back and do something relaxing while you eat, like catch up on your Netflix queue or scroll through your Twitter feed.

But experts say eating mindfully is a way better approach. You digest your food better and get more nutrition from it. You’re less likely to overeat due to distraction. And amazingly, you actually enjoy your food more. Tastes and textures seem fabulously vivid and pleasurable when you give all your attention to what you’re eating.

2. What am I really hungry for?

I have learned that often my desire to eat is rooted in some other kind of desire, some non-stomach-based hunger of one kind or another.

If you feel yourself wanting to eat something that may not be so good for your body, it can be helpful to ask yourself: what am I really hungry for right now?

If I’m just bored and want something to do, I can put on a TV show, work on a creative project, go for a walk, read a book, do some yoga, or pretty much any other activity that will capture my attention.

If I’m craving the pleasure I’d get from eating a piece of chocolate or a big-ass burrito, I can seek out pleasure in other ways – for example, by masturbating, listening to some favorite tunes, starting a conversation with someone who makes me laugh, or cuddling my cat. (Of course, it’s important not to replace unhealthy pleasures with other unhealthy pleasures, like excessive boozin’, drugs, or a shopping addiction!)

If I want the energy boost I can expect from certain foods, I can get the same kind of kick from tea or coffee, a brisk walk around the block, or a groovy yoga flow sequence.

If it’s just a “mouth-boredom” thing, I can make a pot of tea, chew some sugar-free gum, or even engage in some hardcore flossing.

And of course, there are times when hunger is actually hunger. Practicing mindfulness has sharpened my ability to identify when I’m actually, physically hungry. And when I am, I eat!

3. Mindful exercise – or not.

I used to hate exercising. (Well, honestly, sometimes I still do. But mostly I don’t.) While running on the treadmill or contorting myself into yoga poses, my mind would go a mile a minute. “I hate this!” “This is so hard!” “This is taking too long!” “Is this almost over?”

Eventually I learned that I experience less psychological turmoil about exercising if I choose to really center myself in the present moment. If I’m intimately focused on every footfall, on the stretch and pull of every muscle, on the dependable in-and-out of my breath, not only do I have fewer resistant thoughts, but the exercise actually starts to feel better. It can be downright pleasurable sometimes!

Learning about mindfulness has also shown me, though, that sometimes focusing too much on my present moment can emphasize any discomfort I’m experiencing. Mindfulness experts would tell me to “breathe through it” but sometimes that just doesn’t work for me, and the only way I can get through my workout is by watching a riveting TV show or listening to a fascinating podcast to take my mind off the exertion at hand. And I think that’s okay, because at least I get the workout done, even if I don’t do it the way I “should.”

4. Stop procrastinating.

Procrastination comes from being out of sync with the present moment. It comes from distraction, fear, and laziness. When I tap into the now, I don’t want to procrastinate.

“I could work out, but I don’t wanna,” I think. And then I ask myself, “What will I do now, if I don’t work out?” and the answer is usually some variation of “sit around doing nothing,” an activity that I know will just make me feel bad and gross.

Procrastination is avoidance – not only avoidance of the thing you’re putting off, but also avoidance of your feelings and experiences in this moment. When I’m really in the now, I often find that I want to work out. My body is crying out for it.

5. The moment will pass.

Studying mindfulness has taught me that no one moment is unendurable. Moments go by. They give birth to new moments. And the new ones feel different from the old ones. It sounds obvious but it can be a revelation.

Sudden snack attack? I can breathe into it. I can choose to think about something else. I can remind myself, “I will not actually die if I don’t eat a bowl of chips right now.” And the moment will pass.

Tired muscles during a workout? I can breathe into it. I can choose to think about something else. I can remind myself, “This is difficult, but it will not kill me.” I can remind myself, “I did this last time. I can do it again.” I can remind myself, “I will feel so awesome when this is done.” And the moment will pass.

Look at my body in the mirror and hate what I see? I can breathe into it. I can choose to think about something else. I can remind myself, “Lots of people have called you beautiful.” I can remind myself, “It’s okay to have ups and downs.” I can remind myself, “My body is strong and can do lots of great things.” And the moment will pass.

All moments pass. All moments can be endured, if you just take them one at a time.

Extra resources: Leo Babauta has taught me more about mindfulness than anyone else. He’s got great articles on mindfulness rituals, beating a food addiction, forming habits, overcoming instant gratification, getting in shape, and lots more.