kink

Equality is Not Necessarily Symmetry

Kate Sloan

Tristan Taormino writes in her legendary non-monogamy guide, Opening Up, “Some people have confused equality with symmetry.” She’s talking about open relationships, and how sometimes it can cause tension between partners if one of them goes on lots of dates and the other doesn’t. But this insight jumped out at me when I first read it, because it applies to so much in relationships, especially non-normative relationships.

Take, for example, Dominant/submissive dynamics, the likes of which are discussed in salacious detail on websites like OMGKinky and, um, this one. From the outside, those connections may look completely imbalanced. The Dominant tells the submissive what to do; the Dominant might have more freedoms and options available to them, while their sub might have more responsibilities and limitations; it might appear that the Dominant always gets their way. But on the inside of this relationship – provided it is healthy and ethical – both participants know that they each have an equal say in what happens between them. The lending and borrowing of power is powerful for them both because it was and is a voluntary decision, made from an even playing field.

Another area where the “symmetry =/= equality” concept works is in relationships between people whose mental health situations differ drastically – whether one partner struggles with mental illness and one doesn’t, or they each have a different diagnosis. Partners in these situations will simply have different needs from one another, and that’s fine. Sometimes I feel bad that my partner takes care of me more than I take care of them, but they don’t need the amount and types of care that I need, because they don’t have my issues. Not only that, but they’ve explicitly told me many times that they like taking care of me – so our “asymmetrical” relationship isn’t inequitable at all.

Even something as simple as differing temperaments or love languages can make a relationship asymmetrical-yet-equitable. Maybe one needs a lot of alone time and the other doesn’t; maybe one loves receiving oral sex in the morning but the other hates having their sleep interrupted; maybe one feels loved when their partner sends “good morning” and “good night” texts but the other doesn’t need the same in return. Whatever the case may be, as long as both partners are able to figure out an arrangement that works for them, they both need not get exactly the same treatment from each other. It’s fine if your needs and wants are different from your partners’.

What this all boils down to is internalizing the simple human truth that we’re all different people, with different preferences and needs and boundaries and desires. It doesn’t work to impose exactly the same everything on both people in a relationship; that’s not a flexible enough strategy for the vast complexity and randomness of human personalities. What’s ultimately important is that you’re both getting equal amounts of what you want. That’s a metric you can use to test your relationship’s equality – so that you can get back to your delightfully asymmetrical activities together, guilt-free.

 

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

8 Pieces of Useful Wisdom From Sex Workers

Kate Sloan

Each time I’ve dabbled in forms of sex work, like putting on cam shows and selling my used underwear, one of the best things about these endeavors has been connecting with other people doing similar work. I can’t think of a group more passionate, open-hearted, and resourceful than sex workers. They provide crucial services to people who need and want them, despite frequently encountering crushing stigma and legal roadblocks like SESTA/FOSTA. (See the last point on this list for more on that.)

So I’m delighted that I’ve partnered with Escorts & Babes – Sydney Escorts to put together this list of some of the major lessons I’ve learned from genius sex workers in my social spheres. Anyone who says you don’t need skills or smarts to do sex work is fooling themselves.

Trust is hot. Sex and kink, in my experience, just seem to get better and hotter the more trust there is between the participants. I imagine it must be hard to establish this trust as quickly and thoroughly as you would need to in a sex work context, which makes it all the more impressive that so many service providers do it on a regular basis. Their work invites me to look at my own sex life and ask: Where could I be more trusting, and how might that improve my experiences? And, inversely, where am I being too trusting, and how can I solve that?

Dirty talk is magic. After all the many, many hours I’ve spent having phone sex and being erotically hypnotized, I’ve come to think of dirty talk (and related sexual oration) as a form of literal magic: like casting a spell in the Hogwarts universe, you say some kind of incantation and it has real, observable effects in the body and brain of the person you’re talking to. Sex workers tend to wield this power better than anyone I know; it’s often a sharpened and well-loved tool in their toolbox, and part and parcel of what keeps their clients coming back. Hearing these stories makes me want to step up my own dirty-talk skills!

Disabled people can be (and often are) sexual too! I can’t believe there are still so many people who don’t understand this, but there you go… While it sucks that our ableist world too often tries to paint disabled people as unsexy and unsexual, I know some who’ve sought sex workers’ services and found them immensely healing and helpful. Obviously it sucks that this route is financially inaccessible for many, and that ableism continues to exist, but I’m glad some disabled folks have the option to pursue sexual touch on their own terms by hiring a sex worker. (Did you know there’s even been a recent push in Australia to get sexual services for disabled folks covered by national disability insurance? I hope the Aussie government comes around on this eventually; it could be a big life-changer for many disabled folks, as well as Australian sex workers, like those at Escorts & Babes – www.escortsandbabes.com.au.)

When it comes to kink, more communication is better. I admire the thorough negotiations many sex workers (especially pro dommes) insist on doing before sessions, and I think every sexually active person could benefit from adopting similar practices in their own sex lives. No partner can give you the mind-blowing sex you’ve been dreaming of if they don’t know what gets you hot. Share your likes and your limits – it can only make things better!

Kink can be startlingly intimate. Granted, just like vanilla sex, kink can feel awkwardly distanced, deliciously connective, or anywhere in between. But I find that intimacy and kink tend to go hand-in-hand moreso for me, and I can access depths of connection through kink that I didn’t even know existed back when I thought I was vanilla. I’ve heard from sex worker friends and acquaintances, over and over, that a large part of what their clients are seeking isn’t just sexual gratification but some sense of emotional communion with another human being. That’s what kink feels like to me, when it’s at its best.

Asking for consent isn’t hard. It’s sex workers’ job to ensure their clients have a good time, so of course they would tend to prioritize consent highly in their transactions. We all should take a leaf out of their book, and weave consent check-ins into the tapestry of our sexual encounters. This doesn’t have to be as unsexy as some people insist – as Lo points out here, there are tons of super hot turns of phrase you can use to make sure your paramour is into what’s happening and wants it to continue. You truly have no excuse.

Knowing what you want is half the battle. This is a major lesson I’ve taken from kink and repeatedly applied to my own life: you can’t progress toward the objects of your desires until you’ve identified what those desires are. Sounds simple, but it’s often deceptively difficult to figure out what your heart is actually calling out for. This type of soul-searching is worth doing, and is one of the initial steps on the path to enduring happiness.

SESTA/FOSTA is killing people and must be stopped. This is the most important item on this list, so listen up. If you don’t know, SESTA/FOSTA are “anti-trafficking bills,” signed into law in early 2018, that have actually taken aim at sex workers by raiding and shutting down escort listing sites (yes, this is why Craigslist’s personal ads got slashed) and getting tons of adult content banned from various platforms. It will come for us all eventually – and has already started to – but it mainly impacts sex workers, especially those who live and/or work in the USA. You can help by raising awareness about these laws in your networks, donating to sex work advocacy organizations like Red Light Legal and SWOP Behind Bars, contacting your political reps to demand they take action, and supporting sex workers directly by hiring them, buying their content, and giving them money.

 

What wisdom have you picked up from sex workers in all their industrious brilliance?

 

This post was sponsored by the folks at Escorts & Babes – Sunshine Coast Escorts. As always, all writing and opinions (except, of course, in quoted tweets) are my own.

The Joys of Distraction Play (or: I Wrote This While Getting My Clit Sucked)

Kate Sloan

Author’s note: As the title of this post implies, I wrote it while having sex, so in a way, reading this post is entering into a “scene” with me. I wanted you to know that upfront so you can make your own decision about whether or not you want to keep reading.

 

My Sir is the perfect partner for a sex blogger. Here’s one of the ways I know: we were having a conversation recently about the genre of activities we call “distraction play” – people getting deliberately distracted by sexual stimulation while they try to do a non-sexual task – and Sir said, “Why don’t you write a blog post on that topic… while I’m distracting you with my mouth?”

This wouldn’t be our first foray into this particular kink. In the epic sexting sessions of our early relationship, both of us fetishized the idea of me blowing them while they took a business call (dating the owner of a company is hot). Our first time actually trying something like this, they sat in a chair in our room at the James Hotel and read aloud to me from Kinky Trifles while I knelt in front of them and sucked their cock. It was hot to hear them stumble on their words while they were deep in my throat; I liked reducing my normally smooth, golden-voiced partner to a stuttery mess.

This type of kink scene has interested me for years. My first memory of encountering it was the launch of “Hysterical Literature,” a viral video series in which performers read aloud from favorite books while being stimulated by an unseen vibrator. I was immediately entranced and wanted to try this type of kink play from both the bottom and the top. I recall fantasizing about going down on a musically talented beau while he tried to play the piano, and imagining he’d turn the tables on me and finger me with escalating fervor while I tried to play the ukulele. I liked that these kinky games essentially fetishized competence, a thing I already fetishize: the sensation-receiver has to be exceptionally good at the task they’re trying to complete, and the sensation-giver has to be exceptionally good at distracting them. It’s a perverted battle of wits and will. What could be hotter than that?

This type of scene, at least in fantasy and porn, often involves non-consenting third parties: the clients on the other end of a blowjobby business call, for example, or the audience members listening to a piano performance that skips and sputters to the rhythm of a veiled handjob. That element never appealed to me about it, but then, risk and danger have historically destroyed my arousal like a bucket of ice water being tossed over me. I was never the type to enjoy the thought that someone could walk in on me during sex at any time or that I’d be “caught in the act.” I likewise don’t want any uninvolved observers to get grossed out when they realize what’s going on; I’d rather my distraction play be a private one-on-one game, or, at most, that it take place at a small party where everyone present knows what to expect and is excited about it. (God, can you imagine attending an intimate concert at someone’s home, knowing their partner would be sucking them off while they played?!)

A problem with this type of scene, of course, is that you’re doing everything by half-measures. You can’t fully enjoy the pleasure you’re receiving, nor can you fully immerse yourself in the task you’re doing. It’s a wonder this blog post is at all coherent, in fact, given that my partner’s wet lips have been methodically stroking my clit the entire time I’ve been typing this. For this reason, I wouldn’t want “distraction play” to be a regular part of my sex life, because I like to focus on sex as much as possible when it’s happening – but it’s fun to mix things up once in a while with silly, experimental games like this. Seeing your partner in new and different situations is always a hoot, because you get to see as-yet-unexplored parts of their personality or even their sexuality, and this is a great example of that.

Would I ever actually have an orgasm from this type of scene? Probably not – I’m a tough nut to crack, climax-wise, and need to be pretty focused if I’m going to get off. But in fantasies anyway, an orgasm always seems to me like the ideal finale to this type of scene. There’s something unimaginably hot, for example, about the idea of someone’s cock trembling in my mouth, squirting cum down my throat, while their body writhes, their breath catches, and… they finish the sentence they were reading. I always like feeling someone orgasm in my mouth, but I think I would like it even more if I knew my tongue and lips felt so good that they came hard even while scatterbrained and multitasking. A hard-won climax, after all, is sometimes the best and most intense kind.

 

Have you ever done a “distraction play” scene? How did it go?

5 Frank Sinatra Songs That Are Definitely About Kink

Kate Sloan

I’ve Got You Under My Skin

The addictive, all-consuming qualities of love often described in these Tin Pan Alley-era love songs remind me so much of my kinky relationships. Modern-day dating is so much about “chillness,” or the illusion thereof, that it’s refreshing to hear these old-fashioned confessions of feeling utterly un-chill. I’ve mostly experienced this “I’d sacrifice everything, come what might, for the sake of having you near” level of devotion in kink dynamics, not vanilla relationships.

The moment that really kills me in this song, kink-wise, is this: “Don’t you know, little fool? You never can win. Use your mentality. Wake up to reality.” In the narrative of the song, it’s the voice of Frank’s own anxiety and inadequacy whispering this to him – but it’s also something the most merciless humiliatrix might spit at a submissive. And it makes me feel all tingly. Oh, Frank.

Can I Steal a Little Love?

This is pure submissive Frank. “Hug me, kiss me, til I’m red,” he sings, “til my eyes bug out my head.” Consensual violence ahoy!

Later in the song, he swears, “With a smile, I will lead you down the aisle. I won’t even need a shove.” He’s talking about marriage, sure, but it’s also this super subby promise that he’ll happily do things other men find scary or uninteresting, because he’s so devoted to his darling. Aww.

Fly Me to the Moon

This charming classic reminds me of how immersive and otherworldly kink can be. Unlike vanilla sex, it takes me out of my head and makes me feel like a temporarily different person in a temporarily different place – like I’m in outer space.

“Fly me to the moon, and let me play among the stars,” he sings. “In other words: baby, kiss me.” Oh, swoon.

Somethin’ Stupid (featuring Nancy Sinatra)

Look, it’s a little weird that Frank Sinatra sang a romantic duet with his daughter. Asked about the song 40 years after it was recorded, Nancy said, “Some people call that the Incest Song, which I think is, well, very sweet!” What a strange non-response, perfectly in line with the overall strangeness of the song and its enduring popularity.

Setting aside any implications of actual incest between Frank and his daughter – of which I haven’t seen any suspicion or proof – this song makes me picture Ol’ Blue Eyes as a Daddy dom. Several of my favorite Daddy dom tropes are based in traditional 1950s masculinity: well-tailored suits, protectiveness over women, shellacked hair, an easy and assumed dominance. That type of gender dynamic was less than consensual in actual 1950s nuclear family units (well, most of them, anyway), but it’s hot to imagine consensually reclaiming it in a contemporary context. And handsome Frank would make a hell of a father figure.

My Way

When I told friends I was working on this post, they all insisted I had to include this song – because what could be a more dommy sentiment than “I’ll do it my way”?!

However, examining the rest of the lyrics, there’s not much of kinky substance in this tune. I think what makes me think of dominance, moreso than the lyrics, is the calm confidence with which Ol’ Blue Eyes performs this big, showy song – and that same confidence when it shows up in karaoke aficionados’ performances, since this is a mainstay of that genre. Listening to this song stiffens my spine with pride and surety, so this shy little submissive can get a taste of what it might feel like to be a whole-hearted dominant.

What are your favorite kink-tinged jazz standards?

5 Questions to Ask Your New Kink Partner

Kate Sloan

A vanilla friend once asked me, when I gushed about how well my new dommy beau’s kinks fit with mine, “Isn’t that the point of identifying as dominant or submissive? So you can easily find someone who’s compatible with you?”

Ha. Easily? That’s a laugh. While I am indeed a submissive – and a damn good one, if I may say so – that doesn’t mean I automatically jive with every dominant who crosses my path. Even setting aside more basic factors like attraction and harmonious personalities, we might not work well together kinks-wise because there are so many different ways to be dominant or to be submissive. If I want to be nurtured but you want to degrade me until I cry, maybe we’re not gonna work out. If you get off on heavy sadism and my pain tolerance is only so-so, we might have to part ways. If the names and words that light your fire are ones that squick me out, maybe we should quit while we’re ahead.

While there’s no foolproof and thorough way (in my view) to assess compatibility quickly, there are certainly ways you can help speed it along. With that in mind, here are 5 questions you can ask your new beau (and answer yourself, too) to figure out whether your approaches to kink could work well together – for an evening, a fling, or maybe even for the long haul.

1. What kinds of feelings do you like getting from kink?

When you’re in the midst of a kink scene, do you like feeling adored, appreciated, accomplished? Or do you prefer to feel overwhelmed, overpowered, and owned? How about degraded, dejected, or dismissed? (More great feelings words on Bex’s Yes/No/Maybe list.)

Knowing this about a potential (or current) kink partner can help shape your scenes. I’ll take a very different approach when submitting to a dom who appreciates quiet obedience, for example, versus a dom who likes a little bratty resistance. Likewise, if a dom thinks I want to feel used and put down, they’re not going to be able to give me the type of scene I actually tend to want, which involves me being cherished and coddled. Figure out your desired feelings first, and then you can start to figure out everything else.

2. What does it look like when you’re enjoying yourself? What about when you’re not?

As a sub, I giggle when I’m enjoying myself – but I know other subs whose mid-scene giggles might mean they’re uncomfortable and don’t know how to say so. I know people whose stony silence might mean they hate what’s happening, and people who only go silent when things are feeling really good. I know people who kick and scream when they’re taken past their pain limits, and people for whom that’s just a sign that the scene is going swimmingly. It’s important to know how your particular play partner responds to both good and bad stimuli, so you know when to slow your roll and when to hit the accelerator. Of course, you shouldn’t rely only on these cues – it’s still important to have (and heed) a safeword, and perhaps a green/yellow/red check-in system or something similar – but they’re crucial to know, nonetheless.

That doesn’t only hold true for subs and bottoms, either. Doms and tops also have “tells” for when they’re enjoying a scene and when they’re decidedly not. A bonus of articulating these signs to a partner is that you get clearer on them yourself. I never used to notice, for example, that my ankles would cross together protectively when I was nearing a pain limit, until a partner asked me to list and explain some of my nonverbal signals. Being more aware of your own body and responses is always useful!

3. Has anyone ever safeworded with you before? What happened?

This is one of my favorite screening questions for new doms, because it shows me quickly how they handle consent in scenes and to what extent they respect their partners. A bad or dangerous dom will tend to get defensive when asked this question – “Of course no one has ever needed to safeword with me!” – while a good dom who’s been around the block will likely have at least a few stories to share. (I’m sure you could learn a lot about a sub by asking them this question, too.)

Pay attention to how they talk about the person who safeworded (affectionately? dismissively?) and what they claim to have done after the safeword was said (hopefully they tried to give the person what they needed, instead of reprimanding them or abandoning them). Notice, too, what their general attitude on safewording seems to be. If they view it as a wimpy cop-out that should best be avoided, rather than a vital communication tool in any encounter, maybe you should steer clear.

4. What are some edges you’re interested in pushing?

These malleable edges are also known as “soft limits”: things you aren’t interested in doing, with most people or in most circumstances, but that you might be open to if the right situation and partner came along for that particular thing.

For example, I don’t want to feel like some douchey bro’s blowjob machine, but with a compassionate dom who I trusted and loved to please, having my mouth used in an objectifying or degrading way could be fun. Maybe your partner’s been curious about knife play for ages but has never had a chance to try it out. Maybe they’re a dom who’s curious about subbing, or vice-versa. Whatever it is, you don’t have to push that edge immediately or at all, but it’s good to at least know about it, so you can perhaps start to work toward it together.

5. What kind(s) of aftercare do you need?

If someone is new to kink – or hasn’t done it in a while – they may not know the answer to this. But they probably have at least some idea. Common elements of aftercare are cuddles, compliments, and snacks – but of course, these don’t work for everyone.

I get nervous doing scenes with new partners who I haven’t discussed aftercare with yet. While most kinksters seem to know intuitively that aftercare is important, it’s hard for me to relax and have fun if I don’t know that I’ll be properly taken care of when I’m too subspacey to articulately advocate for myself. So it’s best to have this conversation before it becomes relevant, so both of you know you’ll be able to get what you need.

What questions do you like to ask new kink partners before playing?

 

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