coronavirus

12 Days of Girly Juice 2020: 8 Brilliant Books

Kate Sloan
This is the closest thing I have to a bookstore pic from 2020 since everything has been closed for so much of the year 😭

One minor silver lining of this hellish year: not being able to go to places I’d normally go, or do things I’d normally do, left me with a lot of extra time. Some of that time was funnelled into video games (look, Tom Nook needed my help, okay?!), and some of it went into reading books instead. I spent many an hour this year stretched out in a hot bath, candles lit and Kindle in hand.

So far in 2020, I’ve read 31 books – here’s the full list, if you’re interested – but these 8 really stand out as my faves of the year. Thanks to my Kindle’s highlights functionality, I’ve also been able to pull a favorite quote from each, to give you a little taste. Read on and read up, bookworms!

 

The Mind’s Eye by Oliver Sacks

I had heard stories of people living in rain forests so dense that their far point was only six or seven feet away. If they were taken out of the forest, it was said, they might have so little idea or perception of space and distance beyond a few feet that they would try to touch distant mountaintops with their outstretched hands.

I went through a major Oliver Sacks phase in the early part of this year. Mr. Sacks, if you don’t know, was a British neurologist who also happened to be a magnificent and evocative writer. Typically, his books are filled with eloquent case studies about actual people he’s helped, usually gathered around a particular theme. The Mind’s Eye is themed around all things visual, and profiles people with various disturbances in the visual sectors of their brain, like face-blindness and neurologically-rooted color-blindness.

In the latter sections of the book, Sacks also tells the story of his own loss of stereoscopic vision when a tumor deprived him of the use of one eye. His books are always fascinating to me as someone who is nerdy about oddities of the brain, and this was one of my favorites I’ve read.

 

Station Eleven by Emily St. John Mandel

“Has anyone been informed? Who do we call?” “I should call his lawyer,” the producer said. This solution was inarguable, but so depressing that the group drank for several minutes in silence before anyone could bring themselves to speak. “His lawyer,” the bartender said finally. “Christ, what a thing. You die, and they call your lawyer.”

Soon after the coronavirus became an international news story, I started looking into books about pandemics, because sometimes wading right into your fears and worries is the best way to cathartically slough them off. One of the most-recommended pandemic novels on Twitter back in March was Station Eleven, a thrilling story that starts in a Toronto theatre on the opening night of a Shakespeare play, and ends many years later, by which time the world’s population has been decimated and society entirely restructured.

This book felt healing and reassuring to read, because so much of it is about the ways that art, music, theatre, and literature create opportunities for hope, optimism, and connection, even in irrefutably terrible times. It was also just a genuinely fun read, full of unexpected twists, memorable imagery, and well-drawn characters.

 

The End of Policing by Alex S. Vitale

By conceptualizing the problem of policing as one of inadequate training and professionalization, reformers fail to directly address how the very nature of policing and the legal system served to maintain and exacerbate racial inequality. By calling for colorblind “law and order” they strengthen a system that puts people of color at a structural disadvantage and contributes to their deep social and legal estrangement. At root, they fail to appreciate that the basic nature of the law and the police, since its earliest origins, is to be a tool for managing inequality and maintaining the status quo.

I reviewed this book just after reading it, so I won’t restate myself too much here. I’ll just say that this book lays out argument after argument for defunding the police in a way that is clear, cogent, and persuasive. If you’re on the fence about this issue – or even if you still think the police are an upstanding institution, despite so much evidence to the contrary – I think this book would be particularly informative and helpful for you.

 

Black Buck by Mateo Askaripour

Reader: Wally Cat is many things, but a fool he is not. What he told me that day was a sales lesson in disguise. The quality of an answer is determined by the quality of the question. Quote that and pay me my royalties.

This brilliant debut novel follows a young Black man as he gets plucked from a low-paying job and hired as a salesman at an almost entirely white startup. It touches on racism, and confidence, and capitalism, and the scarcity of opportunity.

It’s also one of the funniest books I read all year, easy. The voice Mr. Askaripour crafted for his protagonist is sharp and witty, friendly yet dark, goofy but sincere. This was a pleasure to read from start to finish.

 

Girl on the Net: How a Bad Girl Fell in Love by Girl on the Net

It’s a bit hard to put sex to one side when I’m talking about romance: to me romance has usually been a route to sex, like a Valentine’s card with surprise dick joke inside. A love story that doesn’t involve the odd knee-trembling grope or sticky-lubed handjob feels as incomplete as breakfast without coffee.

The sex blogger known as Girl on the Net is a legend – easily one of the best writers in my genre, always smart and often hilarious. This book tells the story of one of her long-term relationships, with a man who luckily happened to be pretty chill about the whole “sex blogger” thing. (Trust me, this is a surprisingly difficult quality to find in a man.)

It’s equal parts romantic and sexy, stuffed with life lessons that’ll help you both in and out of the bedroom. And it’s all written with GotN’s signature wit. If I’d been able to take public transit this year, I’m sure I would have turned some heads by laughing too hard on the subway while reading this.

 

Polysecure: Attachment, Trauma and Consensual Nonmonogamy by Jessica Fern

I will not lie: the work to heal our personal traumas and attachment wounds and the effort needed to build polysecure relationships are not easy. It takes courage, devotion and perseverance, but please trust me in knowing that it is worth it. As we heal our past, we open up new possibilities for our future.

This year I became increasingly aware of the ways my trauma history impacts the way I feel and behave in my present-day relationships. I took Clementine Morrigan’s online class on trauma-informed polyamory, and I read this book, and between those two things + getting a savvy new therapist, I feel that I’m firmly on the path to healing, though there is likely still a long way to go.

In this book, psychotherapist Jessica Fern (who is totally charming – she guested on a Dildorks episode) lays out the ways that attachment wounds can complicate non-monogamy, and what can be done about it. This is absolutely a must-read for anyone who wants to be non-monogamous but finds themselves continually triggered or re-traumatized by their forays into that relationship style.

 

Ace: What Asexuality Reveals About Desire, Society, and the Meaning of Sex by Angela Chen

I understood for the first time that it is possible to lack the experience of sexual attraction without being repulsed by sex, just like it is possible to neither physically crave nor be disgusted by a food like crackers but still enjoy eating them as part of a cherished social ritual. Being repulsed by sex is a fairly obvious indication of the lack of sexual attraction, but a lack of sexual attraction can also be hidden by social performativity or wanting (and having) sex for emotional reasons—and because the different types of desire are bound together so tightly, it can be difficult to untangle the various strands.

I cannot say enough good things about this book. It is a vitally important contribution to the existing body of work on asexuality. In her clear, incisive prose, Angela Chen explains asexuality and its various facets and forms, discusses some of the biggest issues facing the asexual community today, and hypothesizes on useful lessons non-asexuals can learn from their ace peers.

Even though I’ve identified as being on the ace spectrum for a while now, there’s a lot in this book that I had never really thought about before, or at least hadn’t thought about with as much clarity as Ms. Chen brings to the table. It’s really a must-read for anyone who is interested in asexuality, from any angle.

 

Sex with Presidents: The Ins and Outs of Love and Lust in the White House by Eleanor Herman

There appears to be little difference between the thrills of seeking public power, with crowds of adoring fans, to seeking pubic power, with an adoring audience of one. The same compulsions that send a man hurtling toward the White House can also send him into a foolhardy tryst with a woman. High political office and dangerous sex are, in fact, all about hubris and power.

I just finished this the other day, and it was an absolute delight. Ms. Herman – who has previously written books on the sex lives of queens, kings, and Vatican bigwigs – has amassed a veritable treasure trove of absurd stories about salacious presidential misadventures. I know more about Lyndon Johnson’s penis and John F. Kennedy’s favorite sexual position now than I ever dreamed I’d learn.

Although she’s not too heavy-handed about it, Ms. Herman makes it clear throughout the book that systemic sexism – and often, men being outright cruel to women they claim to love – has played a huge role in presidential sex scandals. It’s hard to even grasp the number of powerful men who have cheated on their wives, fucked over their mistresses, abandoned their children, lied to the nation, etc. etc. etc. This is mainly a book about shitty men, but it’s also a book about strong women who deserved way better treatment than they ever got.

 

What books did you love this year?

Lashing Out: How False Eyelashes Brighten My Life

Kate Sloan

The coronavirus crisis has a way of stripping us of our ability to access our most basic coping mechanisms, while simultaneously giving us a lot we need to cope with. I feel like I’m stuck between a vaccine and a hard place.

What would I do if I was having a terrible, horrible, no-good, very bad day, pre-COVID? I would go to the theatre (can’t do that anymore), or go read my book in a dark bar somewhere (can’t do that either), or go see family (can’t do that unless I’m very, very careful). It sucks knowing what could comfort you and not having access to it, to state something incredibly obvious that we’ve all had to deal with in some form for months.

One of my many COVID-cancelled coping mechanisms is doing my makeup. Sure, if I’m in the mood to do a full face, I could always just hang around at home afterward and post selfies, or I could focus on eyeshadow, eyeliner, and eyebrows to make sure my look is visible even when my mask is on. Early in quarantine, I even bought some colorful new MAC eyeshadows to tide me over until anyone outside my bubble could admire my lipstick again.

But it just didn’t feel like enough. Eyeshadow is time-consuming – all that blending takes me ages! – and the effect ultimately just isn’t as starkly glamorous as a bold red lip. It’s also not as versatile – I firmly believe bright lipstick can be a great addition to any outfit, while elaborate eyeshadow looks have a way of seeming over-the-top and out of place in daytime or casual contexts (at least, that’s what I think). Far too often during quarantine, craving a cosmetic pick-me-up but lacking enough time or emotional wherewithal to prime my eyelids and carefully blend several different shades of eyeshadow for 10-15 minutes, I would just give up, throw on my mask over my bare face, and call it a day.

Of course, as I’m sure you know if makeup is a central part of your self-presentation like it is for me, it can feel pretty shitty to have to be out in the world when your outsides are out of step with your insides. (Obviously lots of other kinds of people experience variations of this feeling, including trans people. If I’m whining about not being able to wear lipstick visibly in public, I literally can’t imagine how awful gender dysphoria must be.) At grocery stores, liquor stores, and the bank, I’d find myself wanting to tell everyone – in the immortal words of Mary Tyler Moore – “I usually look so much better than this!!”

However, then I discovered the wonders of false eyelashes. After shying away from them for years because of how difficult and annoying it seemed to wear and apply them, I finally decided to take the leap. I ordered a couple of inexpensive Sephora-brand pairs of lashes, some lash glue, and a tweezers-esque lash applicator. When they arrived, I watched some of my favorite beauty YouTubers’ instructional videos on applying falsies, and gave it a shot.

I’m not gonna lie: it is difficult. It’s one of the fiddliest, most intricate skills I’ve ever had to learn in my decade+ of doing my own makeup – although I suppose I probably felt that way about winged eyeliner and eyeshadow application a few years back. With lashes, though, there’s the added pressure of time – you only have a limited window between when the lash glue gets tacky enough to stick to your lids and when it’s dried too much to allow for adjustments. It’s like a nervewracking game from some high-pressure high-femme game show that should definitely exist if it doesn’t already.

But once I got the hang of it, I was immediately in love. False eyelashes completely transform your face. They can make you feel like a glamorous alien in one fell swoop. I always feel like a cartoon character in mine, batting my eyes flirtatiously at anyone (or no one) without even meaning to, like a queer tattooed Jessica Rabbit.

Best of all, lashes are just as impactful when you’re wearing a mask. In fact, they might even be moreso, because when you’re talking to someone who has a mask on, their eyes are kind of the only thing you can look at. And while it does take a few minutes to put them on, I’m getting faster at it each time I practice, and it doesn’t require a plethora of different products like eyeshadow does. I don’t even necessarily need the fancy tool I bought – more often than not, I use my fingers instead, especially as I’ve gotten more confident with the placement.

Lashes are truly one of the fastest, easiest ways to feel like a complete glamourpuss. On the first day I wore them, I was sporting a casual T-shirt and lounge pants, with no makeup on my face – and when I had to answer the door for a mail delivery, I wasn’t even embarrassed to be seen like that, as I normally might have been. My lashes made me seem like I had put effort into my look, even though I barely had. They are exactly the flashy femme self-care tool I was looking for.

I’m not saying false eyelashes are right for everyone. They’re challenging and cumbersome and often very weird. But I’m so glad I took a chance on them, after believing I would be hopelessly inept at using them. Like so many fashion and beauty risks I’ve taken over the years, I had no idea how amazing they would make me feel until I gathered the courage to put them on.

On Using Dating Sites During a Pandemic

Kate Sloan

At the beginning of this pandemic, I thought, “Guess nobody’s gonna be dating for a while” – but my friends are proving me wrong.

It’s been fascinating to observe. I have friends who’ve logged onto OkCupid just to have flirty, esoteric text chats with strangers, friends who’ve sipped coffee on Zoom dates with cute new beaux also sipping coffee in their apartment across town, and friends who’ve even met up with potential paramours for socially-distanced park picnics or patio hangs. Knowing and trusting that my friends are staying smart and staying safe (to the best of their ability within a harm-reduction framework), I admire their ingenuity in the face of the lockdown loneliness that’s hit many people hard.

I myself have even scrolled through Tinder once in a while during this global crisis (old habits die hard), looking to strike up a volley of banter with someone hot and smart. It’s not that I’m necessarily looking for new partners or dates – in fact, I very much do not have the energy for that these days, and wouldn’t feel safe meeting up with strangers just yet. It’s that I miss the sense of serendipity and possibility that comes with, say, discovering the guy sitting next to you at the cocktail bar loves the same longform improv troupe you do, or blushing when the cute clerk at the bodega tells you she likes your dress. These little hits of romantic “what if?” are so small, and rarely lead to anything more (for me, at least), but some days they are the social fuel that keeps me going. So if asking random Tinder folks offbeat questions just for the sake of conversation is the safest way to access that feeling these days, I commend anyone who chooses to do it in order to hold onto their social sanity and sense of hope.

Here are some crucial commandments to follow – in my opinion, which is not necessarily the wisest and certainly not the most medically informed opinion, mind you! – if you want to use dating services for just such purposes while we wait for a vaccine and a return to quasi-normalcy:

  1. Pick the right site/app for you. This is always the first step I recommend when embarking on online-dating adventures, because these days, the options are so plentiful and so varied that you can actually tailor your choice to your tastes and priorities. Click around the site/app to get a sense for its overall culture and what its users are generally into, whether that be casual hookups, long-term relationships, non-monogamy, or whatever else. If you’re not sure, you can also read reviews (like this Uberhorny review) of the site/app you’re considering using. Pro tip: I would imagine that sites and apps which have actively issued safety warnings to their users about COVID-19 – like Tinder and Grindr – are likelier to have cultures wherein fewer mask-eschewers and “plandemic” believers can fester.
  2. Be upfront about your intentions, ideally right in your bio so no one has to waste time on you if their desires don’t align with yours. If you’re only up for phone dates and Skype dates for the next several months, say so. If you’re hopeful that that’ll include phone sex, sexting, or what-have-you, say so. If you’re looking for someone to actually meet up with IRL during all this, say so – and include information about what safety measures you would expect to implement around that, and what you’d expect from a potential date in that arena. I know this isn’t the most “chill” stuff to put on your profile, but look, we’re not living in “chill” times.
  3. Don’t lower your standards just because times are tough and pickings are slim. Yeah, maybe all you’re seeking is a torrid sexting session with a rando, but you still deserve a rando who’s polite, respectful, and makes you feel good! Try to remember what your dating priorities were before this mess started (I know, it can be difficult to hearken back to The Before) and do your best to seek people who line up with that. It’s true that priorities can change in troubling times, but the basic facts are always still there: you don’t need to put up with people you find rude, entitled, or boring. You still deserve the high-quality connections you want – whatever that means to you – even if circumstances feel pretty different now.
  4. Make digital dates feel like “real” dates in whatever ways work for you. That might be dressing up, lighting some candles, tidying your room, making yourself a nice meal or cocktail to enjoy while you chat with your new cutie, or something else entirely. The ritual of dating has always been one of my favorite things about it, and if that’s true for you too, it’d be a pity to miss out on that comfort and excitement just because you’re stuck at home. You don’t have to have that sexting session while wearing dirty sweatpants and rocking unbrushed teeth – in fact, you’d probably feel much sexier during the convo if you didn’t!
  5. Come prepared with questions or games, because – as you might know – phone dates and Skype dates can be a little awkward at first. True, in-person dates can also be weird as fuck, but most of us have more experience with them and know how to navigate their weirdnesses better. In case of uncomfortable silences, you can usually remark on something in your environment or ask the bartender a question or whatever – not so when you’re holed up in the same bedroom you’ve been stuck in for ages! Plus, most of us have had fewer everyday social interactions these past few months than we did before, so our ability to be smooth and chatty may have eroded slightly. If I was trying to meet new dates online at this time, I would prep a few interesting questions to ask my date, and frame it (if necessary) as a game where we ask each other questions – or just set it up by simply saying, “Can I ask you something weird that I’m curious about?” You could even send your date this list of questions and take turns asking each other things.
  6. Allow for adjustments if and when you end up meeting a new beau in person, whether that’s a few weeks from now or way out in the future when the pandemic has died down significantly. I recently interviewed dating expert Camille Virginia about finding love in the time of coronavirus, and she reminded me that intimacy and rapport can feel very different online than they do offline – so your super-hot phone-sex pal might not immediately turn your crank once you can actually touch them, smell them, and see how they move through the world, but that’s okay. It takes time to adjust to each other’s in-person conversational rhythms and quirky mannerisms. “If you had a great connection over video or phone calls, try to establish a new norm with that in person,” Camille says, “because it’s a different way of being with each other. Give it a little longer.”

Have you been using dating sites/apps during the pandemic? What’s your strategy?

 

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

15 Ways to Take Yourself on a Date During COVID Times

Kate Sloan
Pictured drinking a martini on the roadside patio at the Queen & Beaver.

I’m a long-standing proponent of the self-date, but a pandemic is not exactly the best time to go on one, to say the least. Just because you’re by yourself doesn’t automatically mean you’re self-isolating to a medically appropriate degree, y’know?

We all have our own unique lifestyles, financial situations, and risk tolerance levels in these scary times, so I know not all of these suggestions will work for you, whether due to geographic limitations, immunosuppression, anxiety, money, or any other factors. But here are some ideas for self-dates in pandemic times. Take what works for you (and what doesn’t terrify you) and leave the rest.

For the purposes of this post, let’s assume that ALL of the following activities will be performed while wearing a mask (if applicable – there are a few where it wouldn’t make sense, like those involving eating or drinking), staying several feet away from anyone you encounter, avoiding touching things as much as possible, washing your hands whenever you can, and using hand sanitizer as needed. Okay? Okay.

Go on a really long walk. This has become one of my sanity-saving measures in COVID times. It gets you outside, it gets your body moving, but it doesn’t necessarily require you to interact with anyone or endanger anyone, including yourself. Load up your phone with podcasts that make you laugh or music that makes you smile, slather yourself in sunscreen, try not to get too frustrated when the warm air emerging from your mask fogs up your sunglasses, and enjoy the day as best you can.

Read a book somewhere pretty. I’m fortunate to live within walking distance of Toronto’s harborfront; I’m sure there’s somewhere idyllic near you, even if it’s just the tiny dog park across the street. Bring a blanket so you don’t have to worry about sitting on mud, etc.

Talk on the phone from an unfamiliar location. Okay, this is more of a friend-date (or date-date) than a self-date, but you’re still physically by yourself so it kinda counts! If there’s someone you miss and are dying to talk to, you may as well do it in a locale more exciting than the house/apartment/room you’ve been trapped in for months. Take your phone (and maybe a hands-free headset situation) to a park, or a lake, or a quiet alley.

Do a selfie photoshoot in public. I can already hear you yelling that this would be embarrassing and strange. I know. That’s kind of the point of this one. We live in an era when social norms are breaking down because the world is kinda breaking down. You might as well tote a selfie stick to a place with a good backdrop and take some goofy shots of yourself in your mask et al. You can think of it as a historical document you’re creating so future sociologists will see what these times were like – or it can just be something you look back on in a couple years and (hopefully) think, “Thank god that’s over.” Bonus points if you do your makeup for the occasion (albeit only on the parts of your face that’ll be visible!).

Pick up a to-go meal from your favorite restaurant, if it’s still in operation (womp womp). This is a good excuse to go on a journey, and is also fancier and more self-care-y than just heating up another frozen burrito in your microwave. (No? Just me?)

Deliver food or gifts to someone you love. You don’t have to get anywhere near them to do this; you can just leave it on their stoop or in their mailbox, and text or call to let them know. Probably your isolated elderly great-aunt could use some toilet paper or your best friend would appreciate some basil from your herb garden.

Assign yourself a scavenger hunt. Go for a walk and… take a photo of every pink thing you see? Try to walk along 5 streets you’ve never set foot on before? Bird-watch? People-watch (from afar)? There’s always something to see, if you’re looking.

Arrange a movie night for yourself. Go all out: pick two films that work well as a double feature, plan your menu (even if it’s just popcorn and a beer), ask your friends to watch along with you if you feel like it, and settle in for a nice night of entertainment.

Be near water. If there are no oceans or lakes or rivers or streams or ponds within walking distance of you, maybe there’s an outdoor fountain or a mostly-closed wading pool or somesuch. Clementine Morrigan says being near water is good for calming your nervous system and I am inclined to agree.

Visit a significant (outdoor) place from your past, like a neighborhood you used to live in or a park where you had your first kiss. Take your journal, if you’re that way inclined, and write about how the place makes you feel and what memories it brings up.

Learn to make a new meal/drink/treat. Have you ever tried to do this with a partner? It can be wonderfully silly and fun, and there’s no reason you can’t have that same type of experience solo. The internet is full of recipes for delicious delicacies, beautiful baked goods, and top-notch tipples. Best of all, you’ll have something yummy to show for your travails when you’re done.

Take a decadent bath. Who says dates have to involve leaving your house? You can jazz up a bath (or even a languorous shower) with all sorts of goodies: beautifully-scented body wash, Epsom salts, candles, hot oil hair treatments… or just bring a waterproof sex toy in with you and call it a day!

Buy a new sex toy. A lot of sex shops are offering curbside pickup now, and they need your financial support more than ever – so if you have the means, why not buy yourself a pleasurable treat? Then take it home and seduce yourself…!

Go geocaching. I’ve never done this but it seems like a relatively low-risk thing to do these days as long as you stick to little-trafficked areas and thoroughly sanitize anything you take home with you. Here’s a video where Justin McElroy explains how to geocache.

Eat/drink on a patio. Many people still have very mixed feelings about doing this, which is very reasonable, and I wouldn’t blame you for wanting to skip this one. Where I am, in Toronto, patio tables have to be properly distanced from each other, waitstaff have to get your info on file for contact-tracing, and masks and hand sanitizer are everywhere – so I feel pretty safe sitting down for a drink or a small meal at local places I hope don’t go under. Bring a book or other diversion, be polite as hell to the staff (they have it rough right now), and tip generously.

 

How have you been romancing yourself and going on self-dates in these difficult times? Or what would you like to be doing?

5 Pandemic-Friendly Kinks to Play With While Quarantining

Kate Sloan

I don’t know about you, but watching a dramatic worldwide crescendo of racism and transphobia play out against the backdrop of a global pandemic doesn’t exactly make me horny. I’m sure that’s quadruply true for the people of color and trans people directly affected by the tidal wave of bullshit enveloping the world right now.

And yet… particularly for those of us who are highly sexual people and/or sex nerds, pursuing pleasure through sex can be one of our major methods of escapism, right alongside Netflix marathons and Animal Crossing sessions. I’ve been lucky enough to have my partner quarantined with me for the past 3 months, but they can’t and won’t stay forever, so I’m mentally preparing myself for the need to take my sexuality into my own hands once again. In stressful times such as these, getting creative can be an important component of that.

The good news is that even solo sexual creativity is easier than ever in the internet age. Online, we can theoretically order sex toys and sex furniture to satisfy our every kinky whim – and we can also learn about proclivities we may never have otherwise heard about, and start incorporating them into our fantasy lives. Here are some suggestions that work surprisingly well in a COVID-wracked world…

Mask Up

As a recent NYC Health brief on safer sex in the time of coronavirus helpfully noted, wearing a face covering or mask during sex is one way to practice harm reduction when hooking up these days. However, even if you’re rollin’ solo, a mask could be an interesting addition to your kinky imaginings. As you’ve probably already noticed while walking around with a mask on, these useful pieces of fabric make it slightly difficult to breathe… kinda like a lover’s hand clamped over your mouth and nose in a breath-play scene. This effect could make a mask a hot addition to your next masturbation session – just be safe, okay? Take the mask off if you start to experience any genuine discomfort or difficulty breathing. And wash that thing before you wear it out into the world again, incase you got any, uh, droplets on it.

Undercover Ballgag

Speaking of masks, it occurs to me that these days you could potentially wear a ballgag outdoors completely unnoticed under your mask, particularly with the creative usage of a hat or somesuch to cover any telltale straps. Only do this if you know you won’t need to interact with anyone at any point – maybe on a meandering walk on side-streets while listening to a kinky podcast. I’d suggest the type of ballgag that has holes in it for easier breathing, since – as we’ve discussed – masks already make that difficult. Don’t overdo this one, because you don’t want to injure your jaw, but if you’re craving some public humiliation/submission, this could be a cool way to make that happen without necessarily involving any non-consenting third parties.

Creepin’ and Cammin’

We’ve already talked about exhibitionism vis-à-vis quarantine, but my friend Bex had such a great idea about this on a recent episode of our podcast that I wanted to share it here too. With the proliferation of Zoom calls and FaceTime chats these days, it’s easy to imagine a roleplay scenario with a partner in which you “accidentally” forget to disconnect at the end of a call, and the person on the other end is able to creepily watch while you get undressed, or jerk off, or fellate a sex toy, or… whatever else you like to do to decompress after a draining video call. This is a cool way to play with the idea of a “peeping tom” without either of you having to leave your homes.

Hygiene Humiliation

In just the few months since COVID popped off, I’ve noticed it’s shifted the way I view media. I’ll be watching a party scene from a 1960s sex comedy, or a friend-hang at a crowded bar in a ’90s sitcom, and I’ll feel myself momentarily overcome with medical anxiety – “Aaahh, get away from each other, you’re not standing 6 feet apart, you fools!!” It occurs to me, though, that this same impulse could be harnessed for all sorts of humiliation-based fantasies. Maybe your domme orders you to give yourself a harsh spanking for only washing your hands for one Happy Birthday, not two… or you have to scour every doorknob and cabinet handle with Lysol and an old toothbrush… or you get your mouth rinsed out with soap for breaking one too many public health guidelines. (Listen to the recent episode of the Off the Cuffs podcast entitled “Rub A Dub Dub” for tips on mouth-soaping!) Whatever you do, make sure all your “violations” occur only in your own home, or even just within your fantasies – humiliation is hot but it’s not worth spreading disease for, obvi.

Ghostly ‘Gasms

Have you ever heard of spectrophilia? It’s a fetishistic interest in spirits or ghosts (or the idea of them, anyway). Some folks in this community claim to have actually hooked up with a ghost, or perhaps several; I’ll let the Mythbusters handle that one, but even if you don’t believe in the paranormal, it could be fun to do a spectrophilic scene with your socially-distanced sweetie. If you put them on speakerphone and position your phone such that your lover’s voice seems to be emanating from the walls or from the depths of your closet, you can create the illusion that there’s a pervy, voyeuristic ghost creeping on you while you masturbate. Fear play isn’t everyone’s jam, but it could be a nice make-believe counteragent to the very real fears pervading the globe right now!

 

What COVID-appropriate kinks have you been playing with lately, if any? (“None” is a completely valid answer… Reading the news these days isn’t exactly an aphrodisiac, to say the least.)

 

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