Kate Sloan

Let’s Talk About Terminology: Vulva vs. Vagina

March 14, 2013June 14, 2015Kate Sloan

I am troubled by people who use words wrong. Especially when they do so in ways that actually impact the way people view the world. That’s why I’m launching this new feature, Let’s Talk About Terminology, to discuss sex-related terms: the right ones, the wrong ones, which is which, and why.

First up: female genitalia. Of course.

Let’s just ponder for a moment the way female genitals are viewed in our culture. They’re seen as a hole, both terrifying and enticing, through which one’s body emerged into the world and into which one wants to stick one’s dick. That’s an oversimplification, but I think it’s basically accurate.

The perception of female parts is focused around that hole – the vagina – and as a result, the entire vulva (a word which means the external female genitalia, including the clitoris, labia, mons pubis, and so on) is lumped into that name.

It may not seem like much, but it’s extremely denigrating to female sexuality. It defines our entire genital region in terms of the one part of it that is perceived as useful or desirable to our male-dominated culture.

You would never see someone use the word “balls” when they meant “penis,” or vice versa. It just doesn’t happen. Those are two specific and separate parts of that whole setup. And it ought to be the same with the female genitalia, but it isn’t.

The clitoris is an important, significant, distinct organ. The sensations it provides are different and separate from the sensations in one’s vagina. It deserves proper identification.

So I implore you: use these words correctly, and teach them to people who don’t know what they mean. Don’t let someone get away with saying they’re going to “shave their vagina” (oh, dear god, I hope not) or “lick your vagina” or whatever, unless that is what they actually, literally mean.

Vulva’s a much prettier word, anyway.

Review: JeJoue SaSi

March 11, 2013June 14, 2015Kate Sloan

Imagine how you would feel about a lover who was totally inept at getting you off, who always seemed to change their technique just as you were getting close to coming, and who approached your genitals with a grimace of apprehension, and you’ll understand how I feel about the JeJoue SaSi.

Several years old and probably discontinued by now (though still available through Sex Toys Canada), the SaSi seemed unbelievably innovative when it first launched. It’s an oral sex simulator consisting of a small ball moving around underneath a silicone covering in various patterns that are meant to be tongue-like. Most notably, you can actually “program” the SaSi using its “skip” and “don’t stop” buttons, so it’ll learn what kind of patterns you like and give you more of those.

In theory? Bravo, JeJoue, you brilliant geniuses! In practice? Ugh, fuck you, SaSi, I hate you.

Problem number one: the motions kind of suck (and not in the “oh, yeah, suck on my clit just like that” way, unfortunately). They’re random, erratic, and weird. My inner labia and the sides of my clit have never gotten so much lovin’ in their life – which is great for them, I guess, but those aren’t the most responsive parts of my pussy. There are only a few patterns that focus on the top-centre of my clit where most of my sensitivity is, and none of them are a steady back-and-forth or up-and-down motion. This makes no sense.

Problem number two: the ball is too damn slow. It has three speeds and even the highest one feels merely like teasing and not like actual competent tonguing.

Problem number three: the SaSi does have vibration in addition to its minuscule movements, and you’d think vibes would improve the sensation, but I actually can’t feel the ball moving when the vibrations are on. I suspect this is because the ball can barely be felt when the vibrations aren’t on.

To the SaSi’s credit, it’s an elegant-looking toy, it feels relatively ergonomic in my hand (like a computer mouse!), and its silicone covering is removable so you can wash and sterilize it without ruining the rest of the toy. These are all good things, but they’re not enough to make SaSi a good or even passable sex toy.

If you want an oral sex simulator that may actually be able to get you off, try the Sqweel 2 or the oscillating mode on the Jimmyjane Form 2. But please, for the love of all things sexy and orgasmic, do not buy the SaSi. It is 100% frustrating and cruel.

Thanks, Sex Toys Canada!

Review: Sportsheets Doggie Style Strap

March 7, 2013August 9, 2021Kate Sloan

At their best, sex toys enhance your sex life (whether solo, partnered, or both) and improve your pleasure. At their worst, they can injure you. And at their most mediocre, they make no discernable changes to your experience. That last option is the best one to describe the Sportsheets Doggie Style Strap.

It’s a pink and black fuzzy strap with rough handles that remind me of the adjusters that hung down from your second-grade backpack. The strap goes around the front of the midsection of whoever’s getting fucked, and then the person doing the fucking takes ahold of the handles and this arrangement is supposed to make doggie-style fucking a whole lot more “comfortable” and “intense.”

As doggie-style is maybe my favorite position, I thought I should at least try a product like this. I’m glad I did, because now I know my boyfriend doesn’t need any extra crap to help him fuck me like a champ.

We switched back and forth several times between using and not using the strap, and I really couldn’t feel a difference at all. He wasn’t able to go deeper, harder, or faster when using it. He also said it was no easier than when he just holds my hips with his hands.

Additionally, maybe because I’ve got big hips, the rough handles rubbed on my sides, which started to feel like carpet burn after a short while.

It’s possible that this strap would have something to offer for people with mobility issues, but for regular able-bodied joes like me and my boyfriend, it gets in the way more than it helps.

Does My Partner Get a Say in My Masturbatory Habits?

March 4, 2013June 14, 2015Kate Sloan

Sex-positivity is a relatively new movement, so there are still some conflicts floating around inside it. One of them is the fundamental discord between two ideas widely accepted as truths by the sex-poz crowd: “Your body is your own and no one can tell you what to do with it,” and “You and your sexual partner(s) need to discuss and establish boundaries that you’re both comfortable with.”

Here’s the conflict: if I have the right to masturbate, does my partner have the right to stop me?

I’m not talking about my partner specifically, mind you. My boyfriend is awesome and doesn’t care that I masturbate, even though I do it frequently and sometimes with toys that are bigger than him. But, being someone who’s often called upon to give advice to other people, I encounter this issue indirectly from time to time.

My belief is that your solo sex life is entirely your business and that your partner shouldn’t have control over it, nor should anyone else.

There are a few exceptions, though – as there always are in an issue as complicated as this.

First off, your masturbation can’t get in the way of your partnered sex life. If it does, it’s obviously fair game for your partner to criticize it. For example, if you jerk off so hard that you have death grip syndrome and it’s led to erectile dysfunction, I think your partner can request that you tone down your technique, or maybe even take a break from wanking.

Likewise, if you consistently choose masturbation over sex, to the point that your partner feels neglected, that’s probably a no-no. As is any non-necessary element of your life that leads to your partner being neglected.

I also think your partner has the right to get upset about you masturbating if the two of you have previously agreed to define masturbation as cheating in your relationship. I believe strongly that each couple gets to establish the parameters of “cheating” for themselves, and that you should stick to whatever you’ve agreed to. (Of course, you shouldn’t agree to anything you don’t actually agree with, and you shouldn’t stay in a relationship where your partner’s definition of cheating is drastically different from yours.)

And obviously, there are some activities associated with masturbation that your partner may or may not have a problem with – like watching porn, reading erotica, or engaging in voyeurism or exhibitionism online. Again, it’s up to you and your partner to establish what is and isn’t okay, and you need to agree on those limits for them to work.

But aside from those exceptions, I see no reason why anyone’s partner should get to dictate how and when they jerk off. Your body, your choice. It’s as simple as that.

You should never invalidate your partner’s feelings, but if anyone ever tells you they’re uncomfortable with you having a private solo sex life, you might need to find a gentle way to tell them to mind their own damn business.

What do you think? Do you, or should you, have control over your partner’s masturbation? What would you do if your partner wanted you to stop masturbating, or to masturbate in a different way?