11 Ideas for D/s Writing Assignments

Kate Sloan

I’m a writer, an overachiever, and a submissive, so of course I love when my dominant gives me writing assignments. They feel like a task at which I can tangibly succeed – plus, unlike with many other types of scenes, I’ll have the evidence forever if I want to look back at it. Writing tasks have become a major (and majorly satisfying) part of my dynamic with my partner.

That said, we weren’t always as amazing as we are now at coming up with these assignments – so I’ve put together this list you can refer to if you’re similarly strapped for ideas. How many of these have you tried?

Describe a fantasy

This can be one of the most deeply embarrassing things to have to write as a submissive (depending on what type of person you are), so of course, it’s a favorite with dominants! It’s one of the sexiest and most tangible ways for a dominant to gather information about what a submissive wants, making it a highly useful tool in a D/s dynamic. The sub can make lists of their fantasies, write one out as a short erotica story, or use any other framing the dominant desires. This is a great way to unearth some unexplored desires or just expound on some desires you already know you have.

Recap a past encounter

IMO, it’s always fun to hear about sex you’ve had from the other person’s perspective. You get to find out which parts they particularly liked, what turned them on, what they want more of. The sub could write out the events of a past scene, erotica-style, or they could list some favorite past scenes and explain why they enjoyed them so much. You could even do this assignment as a collaborative task, with each of you filling in details of the session as you remember them.

Keep a journal

Some dominants require that their subs keep some kind of diary for them. This could be all-sexy-all-the-time, like a daily log of masturbation or fantasies, but it could also be geared toward making positive changes in the sub’s day-to-day life: they could be required to log their food or exercise if that’s an issue for them (tread carefully!!), keep tabs on the ups and downs of their moods and the factors that influenced them, or make a note every time they do something nice for themselves. Becoming more aware of your patterns is the first step in changing them, and a D/s writing assignment can be a lovely way to achieve that.

Summarize a book

I don’t know about you, but the books I was required to write about when I was in school are the ones that have stuck with me the most. It’s a good way to make information stick in your head. A dominant could assign their submissive a book about kink, sex, relationships, or anything else they want to learn more about, and the submissive could write up a classic essay-style book report, a bullet-point list of things they learned, or any other type of book review the two agree on. (Shout-out to Sinclair and rife for initially introducing me to this idea!)

Keep a to-do list

My partner and I have done this for nearly a year now (wow!) and it’s served us very well. My daily to-do list is kept in a note which I’ve shared with them via the Apple Notes app, which syncs across all our various devices. Particularly in a long-distance relationship, it’s a lovely way to maintain a feeling of connection to each other and involvement in each other’s everyday lives. My dominant can keep tabs on me, see how I’m doing with my tasks, and reward or motivate me accordingly.

Craft an instruction manual

Remember the time my partner made me write directions for giving me multiple orgasms as though I were a literal toy? That was one of the first tasks they assigned me, and it’s still one of my favorites. Especially early in a relationship, the sub might know their body and mind better than their dom does, and requiring them to write an instruction manual is one way to ascertain that information from them without breaking role. They could provide directions for physical skills, like how to give them a nipple orgasm or how to spank them properly, or for more mental/emotional skills, like how to comfort them when they’re depressed or how to best help them relax when life gets stressful.

Research a skill

There may be times in a D/s dynamic when either the submissive or the dominant wants to learn or improve upon a skill, in order to better serve/please their partner. These could be kinky skills, like flogging or bootblacking, or they could be “vanilla” skills, like cooking or cleaning. Either way, it’s fun to have the submissive research the skill and write up their key findings, perhaps including a list of links to more detailed information. (KinkAcademy remains the best place to learn a new BDSM skill, BTW!)

Write lines

While traditionally understood as a punishment, making a submissive write out the same sentence over and over can also be a process of edification and improvement if you approach it that way. For example, if your submissive is chronically self-critical, you could make her write “I am a good, kind, talented, and useful girl” 50 times. That said, it can also be a punishment, as I learned the time I forgot to wear my collar when specifically instructed to and had to write lines and mail the page to my partner as proof. Ooh, how mean!

Help the dominant

My dominant has sometimes required me to put together a report specifically designed to assist them with something – like the time I made some recommendations for androgynous clothing items when they were midway through coming out as non-binary, or the time they asked me to recommend some fragrances I thought they’d like. This is a fun way for a dominant to feel served and catered to, while making their submissive feel useful and needed.

Write a love letter

Love letters are romantic and bonding, and they also help create a tangible record of your romance. I think more people (including vanilla people!) should write love letters, because it’s good for your relationship – and in D/s, you can make this mandatory!

Collaborate creatively

Some of my most satisfying moments with my partner have happened while we’ve been collaborating on something: a song, a podcast, a book. You could do this in-person on paper, or online via the multitude of cloud-based writing tools available, like Google Docs or Evernote. Try retelling the story of your first date together or writing a collaborative poem about your relationship, for example.

 

What are your favorite writing-based tasks you’ve assigned or been assigned in a D/s dynamic?

So… I’m Demisexual!

Kate Sloan

“A demisexual person is someone who does not experience sexual attraction to another person unless or until they have formed an emotional connection with that person. It’s more commonly seen in, but by no means confined, to romantic relationships. The term demisexual comes from the orientation being ‘halfway between’ sexual and asexual.” -the AVENwiki page on demisexuality

Have you ever heard of demisexuality? Prior to this one, my only post about it was from many years ago, when my boyfriend at the time told me he thought he might be demi. I wrote about it with skepticism, because the premise of it seemed strange to me. You can only become sexually attracted to someone after you have an emotional connection with them? Okay, how is that different from how… many, if not most, people experience attraction?

But in the years since, my own sexuality has shifted and mellowed, and I’ve come to understand that I myself am demisexual. Plot twist!

When that (now ex-)boyfriend came out to me as demi, in struggling to understand his orientation, I asked him, “So when you’re walking down the street, you never see someone you find sexually attractive and would like to have sex with?” and he told me, “No.” I later heard him say to a friend that, while he could appreciate that women other than me were pretty, he didn’t see them as hot; he just “didn’t work that way.”

While my attractions are not as monogamously-focused as that, I’ve come to understand (I think) what he was feeling. I used to see people on the street I’d like to fuck, and now I don’t anymore. My desire to have sex with someone is rare and highly contextual. Usually it pops up after a few dates, or a lot of texting, or reading their tweets for months. I have to know their brain and their heart, or my genitals just aren’t interested.

I sometimes wonder – as so many folks on the asexuality spectrum do, when grappling with internalized acephobia – if this orientation is the result of difficult past experiences. While I wouldn’t describe any sexual encounters from my “slutty phase” as traumatic, I do think that all those lackluster hookups with people I barely knew probably had an effect on me. Too often, I basically dissociated during sex from the utter weirdness of banging someone you’re not (yet) attracted to, which meant that not only did I not enjoy the sex, but I wasn’t always able to make it a fun experience for my partners either. Maybe I came to associate “not knowing someone well” with “terrible sex,” or maybe demisexuality crept fluidly and reasonlessly into my sexual orientation as these things are wont to do, or maybe it was a combination of both. Either way, I’m now saddled with the reality of never wanting to fuck someone unless I’m intimately acquainted with, and excited by, their mind.

The only exception to this, in the years and months I’ve been turning over this identity in my mind, is my current partner. I knew after just a few minutes of conversation that I wanted to fuck them. But then again, those minutes of conversation were unusually intimate and cerebral for a first date, and we had already flirted a little in our Twitter DMs. We weren’t starting from zero – and if we had been, I don’t think the date would have ended as wonderfully and lasciviously as it did.

My partner – who is not demi, but understands it well – has pointed out to me what appear to be hints of burgeoning demisexuality in my work and my life. They’ve noticed that when I write about crushes, usually I’m writing about their competence or their words rather than their physicality. They’ve heard me waffle and groan about dates I didn’t want to go on, simply because I hadn’t given myself enough of a chance to become attracted yet. They’ve seen the way I melt moreso from things they do or say than from the way they look, smell, or feel (though those things are great too). It felt validating to have someone confirm to me that my attractions operate a bit differently from the norm, and that the demi label therefore fits.

The other biggest confirmation of this identity, for me, has been the random men on the internet who try to sext with me. Granted, most women don’t respond well to this type of thing in their DMs – but even in contexts where sexting is expected and perhaps even consensual, like Tinder, it leaves me cold if the person on the other side of the screen is a stranger. Even if they’re weaving beautiful sentences backed up by anatomical knowledge, sexual adventurousness, and feminist ideology, I am only ever, at best, mildly interested. But sexting with someone I’ve had hours-long conversations with? That’s a totally different story.

I think that this development directly contributed to me abruptly losing almost all interest in dating apps and hooking up, way back in early 2017. Scouring potential matches’ bios while all but ignoring their photos, and automatically recoiling if they got too sexual too fast, made me all too aware of how different my preferred approach is from what’s being offered on these apps. Even sites traditionally understood to be more personality-focused, like OkCupid, make me feel lost in a sea of “maybes.” How am I supposed to know if I find someone attractive enough to talk to them… if I haven’t already talked to them?!

If and when I ever get over my distaste for dating new people, I think the best approach for me will be to meet up with people IRL as soon as possible if they seem interesting. Maybe that seems counterintuitive, but I’d rather get an attraction simmering ASAP than lead someone on by messaging back and forth for weeks when I’m not even sure if I’m into them.

I’ve also found it helpful to state upfront in my dating bios that I’m looking to date, not hook up. And when it comes to actual dates, I now prefer to schedule them for mid-day – say, coffee or lunch – so that sex isn’t really presented as an option, at least until I know them well enough to know if I want to fuck them. Knowing about these “demisexual life hacks” helps me feel more confident in my ability to rejoin the dating world when I’m ready.

For now, though, I’m predictably really enjoying having consistent sex with two people I know quite well. It’s a demisexual’s (wet) dream.

5 Ways Hollow Strap-Ons Can Transform Your Sex Life

Kate Sloan

When the subject of my past in sex toy retail comes up in conversation, one question I’m often asked is, “What products did you sell the most of?”

Beginner vibrators, anal douches, and We-Vibes all rank highly on that list – but so does, surprisingly, the humble hollow strap-on. Customers – usually older-looking married men – would wander into the store seeking something to supplement their sex life, and sometimes their line of inquiry would lead them straight to the strap-on section. It gave me great satisfaction to see happy folks leaving the store with new treats to excite their partners and themselves.

Here are 5 ways this underrated and oft-misunderstood product can give your sex life a boost…

Erectile dysfunction. Whether you’ve tried E.D. meds and found that they don’t work (or just don’t work as well or as reliably as you’d hoped), or you’ve never tried them and don’t want to, a hollow strap on can stand in for your god-given dick if you and/or your partner are missing the joys of penetration in the wake of erectile difficulties. This is, by far, the most common reason my customers ended up going home with a hollow strap-on, and I think it’s a great solution! (Remember: soft or semi-soft dicks can still be pleasured in lots of non-penetrative ways, before or after your strap-on sesh. Erection, ejaculation, and orgasm are 3 separate phenomena that don’t all need to be present every time.)

Premature ejaculation. If you can’t last long enough to give your partner the poundin’ they (or you!) desire, slip your dick into a hollow strap-on – either before or after your own orgasm – and you’ll be able to fuck your sweetheart for as long as your muscles hold out. This is also great if your partner (like me) loves coming during penetrative sex but takes a while to get there.

Gender affirmation. We hear a lot about people with vaginas (e.g. pre-op/non-op trans men or assigned-female non-binary folks) using strap-ons as a way to access gender euphoria, but there’s less discourse about people with penises doing the same. Why, you might be wondering, would someone with a flesh-and-blood dick feel good and gender-affirmed when they strap a silicone one on over top? Well, some trans and non-binary folks find it distressing or even triggering to use their genitals in the “traditional” ways prescribed by hetero- and cis-normative culture. Using a strap-on can help some people express and experience their gender more pleasurably during sex, and that’s a wonderful thing.

Chastity kink. This is my #1 fantasy involving hollow strap-ons: a submissive partner isn’t permitted their own pleasure until they fully please their dominant, and so they slide their dick into a strap-on so having it touched isn’t even an option. In this way, the strap-on can serve the dual function of a chastity belt for the sub and a dildo they can fuck their dom with. Hot!

Mindfulness. This one is a bit more abstract, so bear with me… Sometimes, when you’re having sex, it’s easy to get so distracted by your own pleasure that you forget to focus on everything else that’s going on: your partner’s pleasure, their sounds, how cute they look when they bite their lip, how good their skin feels against yours, and so on. If you temporarily take your own genital sensations out of the equation, these other lovely details immediately come into sharper focus. Does this mean strap-ons are kind of… zen?!

What are your favorite potential uses for hollow strap-ons?

 

This post was sponsored. As always, all writing and opinions are my own.

Monthly Faves: Weddings & Wisecracks

Kate Sloan

Sex toys

• An ice cube barely counts as a sex toy, but nonetheless: temperatures soared in Toronto this month and I enjoyed trying some temperature play with my partner. While this activity is often included in “Spice things up!” articles for vanilla people, for me it was a distinctly kinky experience that resulted in a lot of screaming and a deep, disorienting subspace. Pro tip: Tovolo King Cube ice trays create extra-large ice cubes that work better (and longer) for this purpose than the standard size.

• Tweezers aren’t really a sex toy either, but I enjoy using them as a sadomasochistic tool in scenes where I’m playing a dominant role, with partners who don’t mind getting groomed by a mean brat. Mine are Sephora-brand but maybe one day I’ll update to a fancy pair of Tweezermans.

Fantasy fodder

• I wrote something in my newsletter this month about the ethical minefield that is fantasizing about incels (“involuntary celibates”). Much like a related fantasy of mine – taking a young man’s virginity – this one is mostly about the utter delight and surprise that the other person would radiate at me. It’s still weird to have sexual fantasies about people I consider ethically abhorrent like incels (and Chuck Bass), but hey, your fantasy life is your fantasy life.

• I’ve long had an uneasy fascination with wedding culture and this month I started thinking a lot about the absurd tradition that is wedding-night sex. I asked for stories from my Twitter followers about this particular rite of passage and got some interesting replies. I’m not much for “romantic sex,” so if I was getting married, probably that night would involve impact play and a collar and leash… or just, y’know, sleep. (P.S. I have a truly ridiculous “wedding” Pinterest board from when I was in university and fantasized about this type of thing to calm myself down at times of high anxiety, incase you’re into that.)

• Sir and I did a roleplay this month of their devising, in which I was starring in a high school production of Into the Woods (a mutual fave show) and they were in the tech crew. They came to my dressing room to compliment me on my singing and… things escalated. It reminded me of how much fun high-school roleplays can be: the excitement, the novelty, the hormones, oh my!

Sexcetera

• Very excited to announce that my new podcast collaboration with the incomparable Brent Black is live! It’s called Question Box and you should be able to find it on most podcast providers. It’s a game show where guests and hosts compete to see who can answer the most shockingly personal questions on air. Give it a listen – and pledge to our Patreon if you like supporting weird comedy!

• Sextistics: This month I had in-person sex 21 times, which is a frankly wacky amount of sex for a person in a long-distance relationship to be able to have. (We spent two weekends together instead of just one like we usually do.) I had phone sex 20 times, totaling 41 sex sessions – a record high for the year so far!

Femme stuff

• One of my most gleeful fashion/beauty moments of the month was when Matt and I wore matching outfits – their tie was almost the exact same print as my dress – and matching lipstick (Fire & Ice by Revlon, a classic).

• I got a lot of opportunities to do Matt’s makeup this month and it was so fun. This coppery smoky eye was maybe my fave. I haven’t done many people’s makeup in my life, which makes it feel extra intimate and special to do it on my partner.

• My friend and roommate Sarah gave me a pink and blue scarf that is soooo my style. Trust a femme to get you the exact right thing for your look!

Media

• I enjoyed Dear Edward, a forthcoming novel by Ann Napolitano about a 12-year-old boy who is the sole survivor of a plane crash that kills his family. It sounds sad, and it is, but it’s also incredibly hopeful and sweet and charming.

• Everyone on my Twitter timeline was freaking out about an essay called “The Crane Wife,” and I read it and it was as good as expected. It has a lot to say about the ways our patriarchal culture is set up to make women squash their own needs in order to “get” and “keep” a man.

• One of my fave outings this month was seeing Some Like It Hot on a giant outdoor movie screen at the Corktown Common with my mom. It’s a fave movie for both of us so it was fun to share the experience of watching it with a bunch of strangers under the stars!

Little things

Catsitting Sarah’s cats and talking out loud to them constantly. Veggies with hummus. Going to the art gallery with Matt to languish in air conditioning on a really hot day. Drunkenly playing the piano at Civil Liberties (Nick, the bartender that night, sent over a glass of amaro to me for “classing up the joint” – best). Pasta salad. Hanging out with Rey in their last month in Toronto (for the time being, anyway). Birthday cake donuts at Bloomer’s, spinach-feta croissants at Jimmy’s Coffee, and maple glazed donuts at Krispy Kreme. Karaoke nights at the Fox. Playing Use Your Words over whiskey shots with friends. Lying on my childhood bedroom floor to soak it in for the last time, before we sold the house. My room at my parents’ new house. Cooking at home. Phone sex until 3 a.m. Dancing my ass off at a wedding.

The True Meaning of Friendship (with Benefits)

Kate Sloan

I’ve been fucking my friend with benefits for over two years and we’ve never taken a selfie together.

If this doesn’t seem that strange to you, I should explain: I take selfies with almost everybody who matters to me. My romantic partners, my friends, my family. Sometimes random people I meet at shows, if they’re into it. It’s a small act of digital-age intimacy. And I’ve never done it with this person whose dick has been in my hands and my mouth and my cunt occasionally-but-repeatedly for almost two and a half years.

If he read this, he’d probably offer to take a selfie with me on the spot – he’s that kind of sweetheart. But the selfie isn’t the point. The point is that we’re trained to think of casual sexual relationships as emotionally inconsequential, and thus undeserving of intimacy, care, and consideration. I think these connections can provide so much more value than we give them credit for, and that they therefore deserve kindness and tenderness just like our romantic relationships – if not the same amount, then at least the same quality.

Like Carsie Blanton, I think we’re too precious with our usage of the word “love.” We wall it off inside a spire and reserve it for a tiny subset of the people who make our heart stir. Then we imagine, by extension, that only those people deserve our focused attention, our empathetic concern, our “Thinking of you!” texts and “I missed you!” greetings. When I’ve lamented my loneliness during slutty phases, these things are most of what I’ve wanted: the comfort and consistency of a relationship, by which I don’t necessarily mean a romantic one.

Days after my last brutal breakup, my FWB trekked to my parents’ house, which I was in the process of moving out of. We’d planned a sex date before all of this drama unfolded, and, against the impulses of my crushing depression, I didn’t cancel it. My room was piled high with half-packed boxes and half-used tissues; a heart-rending rejection is a great way to derail a big undertaking like a move. But his lanky, warm body filled the space with light I thought I’d lost. “I know you’ve had a hard week,” he said, throwing an arm around my shoulders. “We don’t have to do anything. We could just cuddle, if you want. I just want to be here for you.”

I didn’t cry. These words, uttered by a romantic partner, would’ve summoned the floods. But my tear ducts shuttered up instinctively; this boy was only my casual sex-pal. Our genitals knew each other better than we knew each other as people. It didn’t seem right. Still, I thanked him, and we went ahead with the sex we’d planned, because I wanted to feel wanted again. As he moved inside me, I reflected on how this thing between us had become more than sex but less than love. Maybe that’s what it feels like when a friend with benefits is truly a friend.

Our friendship, now, is verifiable and undeniable. He’s been to my birthday parties; he’s commented on my Facebook selfies; he’s chatted with my partner about cocktails in my kitchen. I’ve confided in him about things even some of my friends (sans benefits) don’t know: career anxieties, relationship hopes, depression struggles. We’ve exorcized our troubles in a sex-club swimming pool, ciders in hand, and then smoothed them over with kisses. We’ve been patient with each other’s bodies when they were uncooperative or hurting or menstruating. Sex with him has been a balm, a rock.

What strikes me most about this copulationship, compared to some others I’ve had, is that it’s built on a bedrock of genuine esteem and respect. He doesn’t reduce me to a wet hole he can fuck, nor does he assess our encounters by how much sex was had or how good it was; while the sex is partly the point of getting together, it isn’t the whole point. He checks up on me via text, asks how I’m doing, says he misses me. He makes me laugh and compliments my “magic vagina.” He treats me, in short, like a friend who he happens to be banging – which unfortunately isn’t always the case in FWB arrangements.

I’d like for these relationships to be acknowledged and understood as the powerful connections they can be. When asked, I say I have two partners right now – by which I only mean two sexual partners, but still, something feels good and right about acknowledging my FWB in the same breath as the person I hold hands with in public and introduce to family members and want to be with for a long time. These two relationships have different levels of commitment, of upkeep, of social validity and recognizability, but they are equally as valid and equally as worthy of my attention and appreciation.

I’ve never said “I love you” to my FWB and probably never will, because I don’t love him romantically and never have. But there are casual equivalents in our friendship, which make me feel safe and valued in the same way an “I love you” does – like the time he randomly texted me while he was at work to say, “By the way, I think you’re pretty neat.”