I Showed My Face on the Internet & Nothing Awful Happened

Kate Sloan

I am a sexy ghost. A faceless apparition. My Twitter avatar is a picture of my boobs. My bio photo is my knees, adorned in sex toys. The name I go by is not my real name, obviously (although: admit you would be at least somewhat impressed by my parents if they had, indeed, legally named me Girly Juice).

There are two main reasons I have always hesitated to show my face in any capacity connected to this blog:

1. I worried that potential future employers, distant conservative family members, shitty misogynist trolls, etc. would stumble across my pictures and use them against me in some way. These worries, if I let them get too far, always morphed into melodramatic waking nightmares in which I ended up homeless, alone, and disgraced. (I know. I’m ridiculous. I told you, I have anxiety.)

2. (And this is an even sillier and more embarrassing reason…) I’m insecure about how I look, and I worried that if people saw what I looked like, they wouldn’t think I was sexy or pretty, and it would cause them to discount my opinions and stop reading my blog.

When Caitlin and John came to my house to interview me and film me masturbating (which is a whole ‘nother story for a whole ‘nother blog post), we got onto the topic of sex blogging and anonymity. Caitlin point-blank asked me why I kept my identity (and my face) so private in the blogosphere, and I went on a meandering ramble about closed-minded office jobs and facial recognition technology and sex-negative assholes… and my tirade was so aimless that at the end of it, I was left thinking, “Why don’t I show my face? Is there a real reason, or is it just my stupid anxiety-brain?”

I have so many friends in the sex-positive corner of the internet who reveal not only their faces but their names, their real-life accomplishments, their identities. And I’ve always been jealous of them, because they can be their whole selves. When their readers and fans love them, they really love them, not some reductive persona.

A few months ago I tweeted that I was toying with the idea of showing my face, and some douchebro replied something like: “Don’t. I like mysterious women.” It reignited all my old doubts about how anonymity might be more alluring to readers than my actual face and body. What if you thought you were reading the sex stories of someone who looked like Jamie Dornan and then you peeled back the curtain and it was actually Gilbert Gottfried under there?! (That’s not to say that I think I look like Gilbert Gottfried… or that he doesn’t have some perfectly lovely characteristics… but you see what I’m saying, yeah?)

When I got dolled up for the Feminist Porn Awards, I came downstairs and there was no one in my house. (This is quite unusual; I live with three other people and two of them work from home.) I got frustrated that there was no one around to tell me, “Hey, you look good!” and that combined with the overall sex-positive, yay-for-sex! attitude that tends to pervade Feminist Porn Week… so I impulsively posted some selfies. Of my face.

And people were really fucking nice about it.

Like, literally every single person who sent me a reply was incredibly sweet and supportive. No one made me feel like it was a particularly big deal or shocking reveal. Everyone was just… great. And it’s one of my most-favorited tweets to date.

I’ve posted a few more Twitter selfies since then (and not just of my cleavage or underwear or disembodied lips), and the results have always been the same. My followers are complete and utter sweethearts. They have made me wonder why I was so scared of doing this for so long.

And they’ve also shown me that my constant self-criticism about my looks is unfounded. I don’t look like a magazine model, and I never will, but lots of people still think I’m pretty. No one, so far, thinks my face or body are incongruous with my femme-sexpot internet persona. It’s just not a big deal. At all.

Sex bloggers and other sexy-on-the-internet types: do you show your face? What’s your reasoning behind showing or not showing it?

Everyone I’ve Ever Fucked Is a Taurus

Kate Sloan

Do you ever make lists of all the unifying qualities of the people you’ve romanced and banged? Or am I the only resident of that particular neighborhood in Nerd-town?

I don’t know why it took me so long, given my penchant for list-making, to realize that both of the people I’ve had sex with are astrological Taureans. I’m a Taurus myself, so it really should have clicked sooner.

Whether or not you believe in astrology (and I’m certainly not sure about it, myself), what I know for certain is that both of those partners embodied all the classic Taurean traits, as do I. We’re fiercely loyal and trustworthy. We’re reliable; you can count on us. We’re creative, passionate, and hellbent on the finer things in life. On the other hand, we’re known to be stubborn, self-indulgent, lazy, and sometimes closed-minded.

How does this translate to the bedroom? Lots of different ways, I’m sure – Taureans aren’t a hive-mind. In my experience, though, Taurus-on-Taurus fucking is consistently and dependably good, but it can veer into the land of routines and ruts a little too easily.

You know those times when you’re trying to decide where to go for dinner, and you and your friend or partner keep asking each other, “Where do you want to go?” “Well, where do you want to go?” Neither one of you wants to rock the boat by suggesting something out-there or new. It may very well be that you’d both love to try that quirky Scandinavian bistro that just opened up down the road, but unless someone actually comes out and says that, it ain’t gonna happen.

That’s sort of what it’s been like when I’ve slept with other Taureans. I knew what I liked, I knew what my partner liked, we knew what had worked for us in the past and would continue to work for us – but we rarely went out on a limb and suggested something new.

I could happily eat steak and fries for dinner every night and not get sick of it. And I do mean every night, like, for at least a year. That’s also how I feel about certain sexual acts, like receiving oral and then getting fucked doggie-style. I could easily do that every time I have sex and it would take me a damn long time to start feeling bored. I know that’s true because I’ve lived it. When us Taureans found the routine that worked for us, we stuck to it pretty closely. And we liked it – that’s why it became a routine in the first place, after all – but we might’ve also liked other, different things, if we’d bothered to try them.

My best friend is a Sagittarius. Her sign is known to be adventurous, sometimes to the point of recklessness. That quality is one of my favorite things about her, and one of the reasons we’re so drawn to each other as friends. If she needs some Taurean comfort, she can come to me, and we’ll go to our favorite sushi restaurant and then maybe watch a movie we’ve seen 50 times before, and laugh at all the same jokes. But when I need a Sagittarian shake-up, she can help me with that. We’ll go explore a random ravine, or check out art galleries downtown, or get on a bus to Montreal.

I guess what I’m saying is… As much as I love other Taureans, and as familiar and comforting they feel to the very core of me, I don’t know if I want to fuck them anymore. At least, not the very Taurus-y Taureans like me. The sex is fantastic but it’s not an adventure. And I think it’s time I had some goddamn sexual adventures.

What are your thoughts on sexual astrology? Is there a particular sign with whom you tend to have amazing sex, or terrible sex? Is there a sign you tend to adore, or can’t stand?

Escorts, Strippers & Porn Stars, Oh My!: My Top 5 Favorite Fictional Sex Workers

Kate Sloan

 

Sex workers’ rights movements have come a long way in the past century, but they still have a long way to go.

There are places in the world where sex work is legal – certain kinds are allowed here in Canada, and it’s legal throughout Australia, where they even have sites like Escorts & Babes to help clients find what they’re looking for. But despite all this, we still live in a world where sex work is stigmatized and belittled.

An important step in the destigmatization of any group is good media representation. (We’ve seen that in the past couple years with Laverne Cox, for example, who is a television trailblazer for the trans community.) Lots of sex workers in movies and TV are still just reductive caricatures, but some of them are less so. Here, then, is a list of my top 5 favorite sex workers in films and television. Who are yours?

1. Vivian Ward from Pretty Woman. Setting aside the whole “rich dude rescues damsel in distress” motif of this film (ew), it’s hard not to love Julia Roberts as this plucky, goofy, lovable sex worker. She also rocks some truly wild and wonderful costumes over the course of the film. And that HAIR! Oh, that hair.

2. Irene Adler from Sherlock. Referred to fondly by Sherlock Holmes as “The Woman,” Irene Adler is a foxy dominatrix with a penchant for perfect 1940s hairstyles and impeccable red lipstick. She’s seemingly a lesbian but sorta falls in love with Sherlock, who seems to return her admiration despite probably being gay or asexual himself. I mean, who wouldn’t? She’s not only gorgeous but incredibly smart and shrewd, too. And she knows her way around a riding crop.

3. Satine from Moulin Rouge. Okay, Satine’s not exactly the most empowered character. Her entire life, as an escort and can-can dancer in a Parisian nightclub, is directed and ruled over by men, and (spoiler alert!) at the end she dies of consumption. But she’s strong-willed, seems to genuinely enjoy her work as a performer, and is damn good at it.

4. Gigolo Joe from Artificial Intelligence. Not enough people have seen this movie. It’s fantastic for so many reasons, one of which is definitely Jude Law’s performance as a cyborg designed to pleasure women. It’s a delight to watch him transform his hair color, accent, background music (which plays out of a radio in his wrist!), and entire approach to lovemaking depending on what his client-du-jour wants from him. He also proves himself to be a sweet, caring robot in non-sexual arenas, despite sex being his sole intended purpose in life.

5. John from Love Actually. I don’t know if this dude strictly counts as a sex worker, because he’s just a body double/stand-in on a porn set. But I had to include him because he’s completely adorable. Shy and nervous despite his explicit line of work, his entire plotline centers on trying to pluck up the courage to ask out his co-star, Judy, even though he’s already seen (and touched) most of her naked body. Aw, what a babe.

Do you have any favorite sex workers in fiction? I’d particularly be interested to hear from people who are, themselves, sex workers!

Heads up: this post was sponsored!

#DidYouJerkOffToday: Some Initial Observations

Kate Sloan

As you already know if you follow me on Twitter, I’ve given myself a challenge in honor of Masturbation Month: I’m forcing myself to masturbate to orgasm at least once a day for the whole month.

The experiment is still playing out, but here’s what I’ve observed so far:

• Daily orgasms have definitely increased my libido. I find myself getting spontaneously turned on in the middle of the day and needing to do something about it, which ordinarily would only happen a few times a month, if that.

• Further to that: although I’m not typically prone to multiple orgasms, there have been days during this challenge when I’ve needed to get off more than once a day. I’ll have one orgasm, go and do something else for an hour or two, and then suddenly notice that I’m still turned on. That’s incredibly rare for me but it’s been commonplace during this challenge.

• On the other hand, there have also been days when I’ve felt completely demotivated, and had to dredge up an orgasm using the strongest vibrators and dirtiest fantasies in my arsenal if it was going to happen at all. I suppose it’s natural that if you force yourself to do something every day, it’s going to feel like an obligation at least some of the time.

• As per usual for me, having orgasms more frequently has made them a) more difficult to achieve and b) stronger. So, there are positives and negatives. (Let’s be real, though: it’s mostly positives. I mean, I’m having a fuckton of orgasms. That’s pretty rad, any way you slice it.)

Have you been celebrating Masturbation Month in any particular way? Wanna tell me about it?

Is It Ever Okay to Fake Your Orgasms?

Kate Sloan

When I first got into feminism, sometime around age 14, I had loud, rigid opinions on everything.

“Women shouldn’t have to shave their legs!”

“Cunnilingus should be standard in all hetero sex!”

“No self-respecting woman would ever fake her orgasms!”

However, when I was 16, I started having sex, and the second time my new partner interacted with my genitals in any way, I… faked an orgasm.

I had my reasons (mostly nervousness and just wanting the awkward encounter to be over already), but I felt incredibly conflicted about the whole thing. Until a sex-positive, feminist friend of mine told me she faked a lot. And she liked it. That conversation blew my mind wide open and got me thinking about “the ethics of faking.”

Here are some of my thoughts on “good” and “bad” reasons to fake your orgasms. I’d love to hear whether you agree or disagree, and if you have other reasons to contribute to the list!

Bad reasons to fake:

• You don’t think you deserve real pleasure. (You do, love.)

• You don’t think you deserve to have a partner put in the time and effort required to give you real pleasure. (You do, love. Seriously.)

• You think you should be able to get off a certain way (e.g. from penetration alone), and that it would be embarrassing or unreasonable if you were to instruct your partner in what really gets you off. (Any partner worth their salt would love to learn how to make you happy. And if it happens to involve a kink they’re not into, well, it’s better to know that, so you can decide whether your incompatibility is a dealbreaker for either of you.)

• You know your partner gets off on your pleasure, and you want to give them that. (Okay, that’s very sweet, but if they like your pleasure, they like your real pleasure. And they’ll be upset when they inevitably find out you’ve been faking.)

Acceptable reasons to fake:

• You actually enjoy doing it. Putting on a show of faux pleasure actually induces real pleasure for you, much like smiling makes a person happier.

• You’re deliberately and knowingly play-acting/role-playing with a partner, and it’s assumed that there will be some “dramatization of events.”

• You’re in an unbalanced, perhaps abusive relationship in which it’s easier and safer to fake. (If this is the case, I wish you strength and luck and helpful resources to get you out of there, and I completely understand your decision. You gotta do what you gotta do to stay safe, end of story.)

I’m sure there are lots of other reasons that could go on either list, but those are the ones that come to mind for me. Have you ever faked? What was/were your reason(s)? Do you have any changes or additions you’d make to my lists?