financial domination

Why Are Pearl Necklaces So Damn Sexy?

Kate Sloan

Sometimes I just get obsessed with a particular fashion item and I don’t know why. It’s like being struck by a new kinky fantasy: it’ll pop into my head one day, or I’ll see it in a piece of media or hear someone talking about it, and I’ll fall down a mad rabbit hole of Googling (or Pinterest-ing). Most recently, I felt this way about pearl necklaces.

You know, the classic jewelry item worn by style icons like Jackie Kennedy Onassis and Grace Kelly? The kind of thing you see on women in period dramas like Mad Men and The Crown? Yeah, those.

I find them not only gorgeous, classy, and timeless, but also sexy somehow. At first blush, it would seem obvious why: there’s a sex act known colloquially as the “pearl necklace,” in which someone ejaculates onto someone else’s chest and décolletage, creating a pearly effect. But that’s never been a kink of mine, and I don’t even particularly like watching this act performed in porn – if the coming isn’t happening inside somebody’s orifice, I’m probably not interested! #InternalCumshots4Lyfe

So the question then becomes, what is it about pearls as a jewelry item that is so alluring to me?

In answering this, my mind goes straight to the phrase “clutching pearls.” To clutch one’s pearls is to react with shock and dismay to something, and it’s a phrase typically associated with upper-class types, or morally “superior” types, reacting to something they consider low-class or immoral. (Think: Helen Lovejoy in The Simpsons screaming “Won’t somebody please think of the children?!?”)

I am decidedly middle-class and don’t consider myself a moral authority on anything, so this isn’t an image I can directly relate to – but in some ways, that’s what makes it hot. The idea of pretending to be a certain type of woman that I definitely am not – of co-opting a classy aesthetic to conceal the mischievous mind behind it all.

Pearls’ associations with 1950s housewives also appeal to me. A standard string of pearls isn’t super long, so you can do household chores while you’re wearing it and not worry about dropping diamonds in the dishwasher or sapphires down the sink drain. This delights my inner submissive, and fills my head with images of waiting around dutifully for my spouse to get home from a long day of work, to a clean house, a hot meal, and a hot wife.

The financial aspect of pearls also definitely adds to their charm for me. It’s not that they have to be wildly expensive – the two strings of pearls I own are from Horae and Kay’s, and cost $45 and $100, respectively – but they have the air of being expensive, and for me, that’s enough. I’ve explored financial fetishism from several different angles, and my newest pearl necklace was sweetly bought for me by my partner as a financial domination task I assigned them; I can also imagine finding it deeply erotic for a sugar daddy(/sugar mama/glucose guardian) to buy me some pearls and place them around my neck before a glamorous dinner date. Like a perfectly-tailored suit or little black dress, they’re the sort of thing that can make you feel instantly richer, fancier, and more powerful (or more spoiled, as the case may be).

Notable, too, is that pearls don’t look out of place no matter what I’m wearing, and even when I’m wearing nothing. I feel very Marilyn when I spritz on a jasmine perfume, dab on some lipstick, clasp my pearls around my neck, and slink into bed completely naked. Rachel Rabbit White says she likes to have sex with her false lashes on, and I feel similarly – not only about lashes, but about lipstick and pearls, too. (And, uh, socks, but that’s neither here nor there…)

I’ve looked at a lot of pearl jewelry online these past couple months, and many such pieces are far too ostentatious, expensive, or just plain weird-looking to attract my interest. It’s only the most timeless, simple, and elegant pieces that call my name. Someday I’d perhaps like to get a triple-strand pearl necklace, as those really take fanciness to the next level. But for now, I’m thrilled with the two very straightforward single strands I own. They go with everything, they gleam under every light, and they make me feel like the world’s sexiest little minx.

I Felt Guilty About Findom, Until I Didn’t

Kate Sloan
A pair of red patent leather Louboutins my spouse bought for me (which I sadly had to return because they were too small)

Financial domination is one of the most profoundly misunderstood kinks. There’s a common perception that all it involves is “making” someone give you money without giving them anything in return – which, sure, would be exploitative if it wasn’t consensual. But by its very nature, findom is only findom when it is consensual. Otherwise it’s just financial abuse.

Findom is most often done in a professional setting, as an interaction between sex workers and their “paypigs.” Sometimes it may involve exchanging provocative pictures, incorporating adult roleplay chat, and other perks – but in its most basic form, it is quite simply one person being consensually bossed into giving money to another person. In that way, it’s not all that different from any other type of power play in the BDSM world. Sure, money is a more tangible measure of the power being exchanged, and it can alter the conditions of your actual life, outside of the bedroom and the dungeon – but that’s part of why it appeals to so many people. It’s like playing poker for real dollars when you’re used to only playing for Monopoly money.

That said, financial domination can happen outside of professional contexts too. It’s become part of my dynamic with my spouse. During an initial findom chat when my partner and I were negotiating this new addition to our relationship, one of the things we discussed was my concern that I was somehow a “bad” financial dominant if receiving gifts and cash didn’t physically turn me on, the way receiving oral sex or a good spanking can. My partner gets a boner (albeit not necessarily a raging one) when I command them to buy me a cute new bag or pair of shoes; I felt like an impostor for not having the same type of physiological response to what was supposed to be a kinky, sexy act.

But the more that I’ve thought about it, and the more that we’ve discussed it, the more I’ve realized that physical arousal is not the only measure of whether an activity is pleasurable or “sufficiently” kinky. Of course, I already knew this in other areas – I knew, for example, that many asexual people enjoy kinky activities for their psychological effects, despite having little-to-no sexual response to them – but it was surprisingly hard to apply this knowledge to my understanding of findom in my own relationship. I think that because money is such a heavy, fraught topic IRL, it can be equally tricky and fraught to accept your desire to play with it in a kinky way. It brings up enormous feelings about “deservingness,” privilege, power, scarcity, and fear. But you know what? So do a lot of other kinks!

The dual-control model of sexuality, popularized by Emily Nagoski, Ph.D. in her seminal book Come As You Are, has been a helpful framework for me in thinking about findom. This model understands sexual arousal as being affected by both a “sexual accelerator” and “sexual brakes.” Your accelerator is stuff that actively turns you on, like porn, erotica, dirty talk, and receiving pleasurable touch, while your brakes are things that inhibit your ability to get aroused, like stress, distractions, or chronic pain.

I think my hesitance about findom came from the expectation that it had to be a sexual accelerator in order for it to be “valid” as a kink – when, in reality, for me it operates much more like an alleviation of my sexual brakes. When my partner buys me a beautiful new lipstick, for instance, wearing it makes me feel prettier, thereby alleviating some of my appearance-related stress. When I “made” them buy me a body pillow and started sleeping with it every night, my chronic pain eased up and I was able to sleep better, which certainly made arousal easier to achieve. Likewise, when my sugar daddy way back in 2017 gave me enough money each month to cover my rent, I was obviously way less stressed about making ends meet, which made space for me to get turned on much more easily. Money is a near-constant stressor, as it is for many people, leaning hard on those sexual brakes – so any relief in that area results in relaxation that can blossom into arousal.

There’s more than one way to enjoy kink, and anyone who tells you there’s only “one true way” is lying to you. If you and your partner consent to particular acts or a particular dynamic, and you prioritize risk-awareness and open communication, it’s hard to go wrong. An erect dick or wet pussy isn’t the only measure of whether something excites or fulfills you. If a kinky activity makes you a bit happier, or makes your life a bit easier, or makes your days a bit more beautiful, then I think it’s been a success.

 

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

Monthly Faves: Blue Leather & Deep Rest

Kate Sloan

Wow, it’s been a long while since I’ve done one of these! Here are some of my fave things from January and December…

 

Media

• Matt and I devoured all of Schitt’s Creek together in a matter of weeks, and it’s truly wonderful. Dan Levy is a national treasure, Catherine O’Hara’s costumes and diction regularly made me screech, and it’s so amazing to see queer relationships being depicted in a setting that intentionally lacks homophobia. Would recommend if you’re looking for a new feel-good show to watch and you love black leather, musical theatre, pansexual weirdos, and/or silly sitcoms.

• Some TikTok youths started collaboratively writing Ratatouille: the Musical as a joke, and then it turned into an actual show benefiting the Actors Fund. I hadn’t seen Ratatouille so we watched it the night before seeing the livestreamed musical. The songs absolutely slap; I was particularly enamored with Tituss Burgess’s impassioned portrayal of Remy the rat, and Adam Lambert singing the hell out of a bop called “Rat’s Way of Life.”

• I got to read an advance copy of Torrey Peters’ new novel Detransition, Baby, and it’s a fucking tour de force. A trans woman writing a poignant trans and queer story full of wit, wonder, and social commentary? Yes please!

• The brilliant music writer Sean Michaels makes a list every December of his favorite 100 songs of the year, and it’s always a goldmine of fantastic music recommendations and beautiful music writing. The 2020 list was especially juicy; I made a playlist of my faves and have been steadily absorbing them ever since.

• In an attempt to understand the former president’s psychology a little better (such as it is), I read his niece Mary Trump’s excellent book Too Much and Never Enough: How My Family Created the World’s Most Dangerous Man. Here are my highlights from the book, if you’re curious. There is some absolutely buckwild shit in there.

 

Products

• Matt’s present to me for our 3rd anniversary was a set of pale blue leather bondage restraints from Anoeses. It’s sooo luxe and stunning. I keep wanting to dress up in lingerie + heels + these restraints to do a super glamorous kinky photoshoot.

• I’ve been really enjoying the ways in which my partner and I play with consensual financial domination lately. (Should I do a blog post reviewing all the fancy presents I’ve “forced” them to buy for me?!) One of the manifestations I think we both enjoy most of this is when I “make” them buy me things when they’re super turned on, as a precondition of letting them out of chastity, or even just giving them some mild vibration with a Magic Wand through their cock cage. One such purchase that made me swoon this month was a Coach Willis bag colorblocked with black, grey, and pale blue. I’ve always loved the Willis style for its structured shape and clean lines, and already own a vintage black one, but the modernized, updated design is gorgeous in its own way and feels very grown-up. Maybe I’ll wear it to some businessy event in the future, if such a thing exists…

• Another recent findom gift: a navy-blue Extra Large Warmer scarf from Yokoo, whose knitwear I’ve always thought was sublime. She made me a cranberry-colored cowl a few years back that is definitely one of the warmest things I own (which is important to us Canadians!), and this new one is every bit as cozy and makes me feel like urban glamour personified.

• With new variants of COVID floating around, it seemed prudent to invest in some better masks than the flimsy fabric ones from Etsy I bought early last year and had been wearing ever since. I bought a trio of new ones from Sartor Masks and am very happy with them – they’re made of double- or triple-layered sturdy fabric, have a pocket for a filter, have nose wires that can actually contend with my big ol’ schnoz, and seem to fog up my glasses less egregiously than other masks have. Yay!

• Speaking of masks, albeit of a different kind… I’m an eye-mask evangelist, because wearing one every night has improved my sleep quality massively, thereby lessening a lot of my chronic illness symptoms. I decided to upgrade mine recently, and took the Wirecutter’s recommendation to buy a Nidra Deep Rest mask. It is truly next-level. Adjustable velcro strap, contoured nose gap, and deep eye cups that don’t interfere with the natural eye-fluttering that happens during sleep. Divine.

 

Work & Appearances

• The revered art-porn company Andrew Blake asked me to write some blog posts for them, so I wrote about sexy loungewear’s effect on self-esteem and the (un)importance of penis size.

• You know how some couples announce their engagement/marriage in the New York Times? Well, the first publication (other than my own) to acknowledge my marriage was Vice, in this great Chingy Nea article about making long-distance relationships work. Couldn’t have hoped for a better coronation into wifehood!

• The amazing folks at SheVibe have been making trading cards of sex educators, and I was so flattered that they asked me if I’d like to be included! My card makes me so happy. I only wish I really owned that cool blue leather jacket my illustrated avatar is sporting!

• As part of my continuing protocol where I have to learn and record at least one song per month, I recently learned how to play the song “Harvey” by Her’s, an earworm that had been haunting me. It’s a really fun track based on the play/movie Harvey – yes, the one with the giant imaginary rabbit. I love having a ukulele with me here while I’m stuck in New York – it makes it much easier to be away from home for this long.

• Recent discussion topics on the Dildorks included making marriage kinky, orgasm quandaries, our 2020 sex lives in review, household service in D/s dynamics, platonic touch and intimacy, sex and aging, and what happens when your long-distance relationship isn’t long-distance anymore.

• Some recent favorite essays from my Sub Missives newsletter: daydreams about the ideal New Year’s Eve outfit, answers to questions from the Sex subreddit, reminiscences of sneaky dildo adventures, and reflections on capitalism + card games with the cool kids.

 

Good Causes

• The Black Trans COVID-19 Fund provides the Black trans community with food, shelter, healthcare, and other necessities. They are doing important work and deserve your support!

• The Innocence Project works to exonerate people who have been wrongfully convicted and jailed, using DNA evidence. Brilliant and necessary.

• Unicorn Riot is a nonprofit independent media organization that seeks to “expose root causes of dynamic social and environmental issues through amplifying stories and exploring sustainable alternatives in today’s globalized world.”

• The Emergency Release Fund helps bail out trans people who have been jailed in New York City, because pre-trial detention can be a particularly high-risk time for trans folks.

12 Days of Girly Juice 2020: 7 Bangin’ Selfies

Kate Sloan

Every December, I write about some of the most significant selfies I took throughout the year. Despite the fact that I spent most of 2020 sitting on my couch in my pajamas (anyone else?!), I nonetheless managed to take many photos of special moments with special people. Here are 7 of my faves!

January 13th

This was taken while Bex and I were on a work trip to Burbank, California. We had been provisionally hired to helm a sex magazine which never ended up happening (thanks, COVID) and had to spend a couple days chatting with fellow sex-industry professionals at ANME and learning about the latest innovations in the sex toy field.

They have legal weed over there, so we got a little silly. I snapped this selfie on our way back into our hotel after a smoke break in the parking lot; I had gotten wayyy too high on that legendarily strong California kush, and my childlike glee started to break through the veneer of polished adulthood we’d had to project all day at the tradeshow. Bex, sensing my over-intoxication, helped me plan my next steps, and when we got back to our room, he encouraged me to get into a hot bath and call my partner so they could take care of me over the phone.

I love this picture because it captures so much of what I love most about my friendship with Bex: our ability to make each other howl with laughter. It’s the reason our podcast has remained so fun to do all these years, and it’s one of the things I missed most about my normal, pre-pandemic social life while everything was up in the air this year.

January 17th

It’s still so wild to me that I wrote a book. It’s not coming out until September 2021, but at this point it’s been so long since I actually wrote the thing that sometimes I forget what my daily routine was like during that process. My calendar archives make it very clear, however, that I was surprisingly disciplined and productive for a chronically fatigued person, generally writing 2 short chapters every weekday for about 3 months. I’m proud of myself!

This photo was taken the night of my official book deadline. I’d submitted the completed manuscript a couple days earlier, because I have way too much anxiety to leave things like that to the last minute, but it still felt like a momentous day. My partner and my friends encouraged me to get dressed up and go out for a solo date to celebrate. I put on one of my favorite dresses and a full face of pretty makeup, and walked down to the Fairmont Royal York hotel, which contains the Library Bar, an ornate and auspicious salon filled with good books and excellent cocktails. It’s the same place Matt and I went when I ceremonially signed my book contract and had some celebratory drinks, so it made sense to return there when the book was finished, albeit by myself.

I have a lot of trouble acknowledging and celebrating my own achievements, even big ones. Part of me always believes I didn’t quite earn them, or that something will go disastrously wrong and I’ll embarrass myself somehow if I actually take ownership of what I’ve achieved. But it felt good to sip a dirty martini by myself and write in my journal about how proud I was to have written a whole goddamn book.

February 22nd

Doing shrooms for the first time was one of the oddest things I did all year. I took them (in tea form) in the early afternoon, and what followed was basically a full day of laughing, crying, dancing, marching, hallucinating, joking, and singing. Fortunately my trip-sitter and friend Brent willingly put up with all of it.

I think I took this selfie when Brent had stepped out of the room for a few minutes. His presence had been an anchor to my floaty mind, and I’d gotten mildly panicky every previous time he’d tried to step out, so this time I picked up my phone (even though my phone had been unofficially off-limits to me all day because of the loopy things I might tweet) and texted my partner so I could make it through the duration until Brent got back. But in classic “me” fashion, I also needed to take a selfie.

This picture really captures the childlike giddiness I felt for much of my shrooms trip. While I didn’t necessarily have any of the “epiphanies” many people report from psychedelics, the experience did lead me to reflect on the artifice and malleability of (some aspects of) identity – and truth be told, I like the part of me that’s silly and happy-go-lucky, whether she shows up in an age-play scene or during a shrooms trip. This photo shows a side of me I sometimes ignore or repress, but I’d probably be much happier if I let her out to play more often, like I did on that day.

March 8th

This picture is important to me because it was taken at the last big event I went to before the coronavirus shut everything down.

My mom and I went for dinner at Insomnia – y’all, I miss their kale salad with grilled chicken so much that my stomach made excited anticipatory noises as I was writing this sentence – and then we walked across the street to the Bloor Cinema, where Drunk Feminist Films was holding a screening of Cats. I had thus far avoided seeing Cats even though everyone was saying it was the most outrageously goodbad movie in decades, but I knew Drunk Feminist Films would be the best possible setting in which to see it, and I was right.

As far as “last major outings before a global pandemic” go, this one was pretty excellent. I was wearing pink sequinned cat ears. I was quite tipsy. I was with my mom, who I love and who makes me laugh a lot. There were whispers about “that coronavirus thing” but I wasn’t all that concerned yet. And I got to scream at the screen, along with hundreds of other raucous feminists, about Judi Dench breaking the fourth wall and Ian McKellen drinking milk from a bowl. I have a few coronavirus-related regrets from this year, but attending that screening of Cats is not one of them.

June 20th

After months of staying at home, the case numbers finally started to decrease to a level where I felt comfortable visiting my family, who had also remained at home except for essential trips to the grocery store or pharmacy. My mom picked up Matt and me and drove us to her house, where we drank martinis in the back yard with my mom and brother, told stories, and joked around.

I know I’m not alone in feeling that this year really emphasized the importance of family and togetherness (to the extent that such things are possible and enjoyable for you – I know not everyone is lucky enough to have a family they like, who likes them back). You can see in my face in this photo that this was no ordinary “sitting around drinking and chatting” kind of night – this was special, even though the tone was casual. I was so glad to finally get to see these people again who had seemed hundreds of miles away even when they were just across the city from me.

September 15th

This photo represents two of the major kinks Matt and I played with together this year: chastity and financial domination. While they were locked up in chastity, we decided it would be fun to do one of our long-distance “phone dates” – wherein we each go to a restaurant or bar in our respective cities and talk on the phone throughout – but for them to foot the bill for the entire evening, because sometimes it turns them on to spoil me.

I put on the set of blue Agent Provocateur lingerie Matt had bought me as an earlier financial domination task, and added (of course) the necklace on which I keep my key to their chastity cage. On top of that, I wore a blue dress and a yellow cardigan, and walked to a restaurant Matt had chosen for me in swanky Yorkville called Sassafraz. (I sat outdoors, away from other guests; me and the staff had masks on whenever possible; there was ample hand sanitizer available; etc. etc.) We chatted on the phone during dinner, and they paid for my whole meal and my Uber ride back home.

I like this photo because I look powerful in it, even though you can’t see my face. Being dominant doesn’t come naturally to me, but this year I’ve enjoyed finding new ways my dominance can manifest, and how those newer routes can help me access different sides of my dominance that feel authentic and restorative. Here’s to more kinky adventures in 2021 (hopefully also in gorgeous lingerie)!

November 14th

A wedding-day selfie was a necessary inclusion in this post, of course!

As I explained on a recent Dildorks episode about weddings, although it’s common for couples to avoid seeing each other before the event so as to preserve the surprise, Matt and I decided not to do it that way for our tiny COVID wedding. It just made more sense for us to both get ready at their apartment and then walk over to the wedding location together.

I had thought this might feel disappointing when we actually did it, but it was totally fine, and even kinda fun. On such a potentially nervewracking day, it was nice to be with the person who alleviates my nerves most skilfully – and also to share in our excitement together.

We took this selfie just before heading out to Madison Square Park to get married. We look happy, calm, and excited to continue our lives together. ❤️

 

In the comments, feel free to tell me about a favorite selfie you took this year, and what made it so special!