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10 Questions About That Time I Sat on a Cake

Kate Sloan

Q. So… Why?

A. A friend invited me to a birthday party her mom was co-hosting. The group of people who would be in attendance are, by and large, queer kinksters, some of whom have an interest in cake-sitting and other forms of “wet and messy” kink play (“sploshing“). I am a sex nerd and a perv so of course I accepted this invitation.

Q. Why are people into cake-sitting?

A. I can’t speak to this from personal experience, because this isn’t a kink of mine – but I asked around at the party, and most folks cited the wet-‘n’-messy quality of the act and its taboo nature as the main draws to this kink.

I also wonder if it maybe has to do with the fact that cakes (and, in particular, birthday cakes) are some of the most exciting objects many of us encounter during childhood: they’re the sugary, candlelit trophy at the climax of every joyful birthday party. A lot of common kinks seem to be related to sources of childhood fear, shame, and/or joy – so it makes sense to me that cake could become a locus of kinky lust, as could the act of destroying such an illustrious symbol by crushing it with your ass.

Q. What did you wear?

A. I wanted to wear something fun and celebratory in colors that reminded me of birthday cakes. My outfit consisted of a hot pink bandana, a turquoise Tarina Tarantino heart necklace with an Alice in Wonderland illustration on it, a pink Gap bralette, a translucent pink striped tank top from Ardene, a pair of turquoise zigzag-striped MeUndies boyshorts, and some pink kneesocks from the now-defunct American Apparel. On my way to and from the party, I threw on some black shorts and a black leather jacket over this ensemble, to make it a little more subdued.

Q. If it’s not a kink of yours, why did you do it?

A. I thought it would be fun. I’m a big believer in the idea that you should make at least some of your life choices based on what will make for the better story – even moreso since I became a professional writer – and this seemed like it’d be a good story to tell. Plus, I was curious whether I would have sexual feelings about sitting on a cake. There are a few minor kinks of mine that I genuinely didn’t know were my kinks until I tried them for the first time.

Q. How did you select what type of cake to bring?

A. I’m not culinarily inclined so I just dropped by a grocery store to grab a cake before the party. I thought a smallish round one would probably be best, since I could crush the whole thing with my ass. My decision was also, admittedly, partly based on what I would most like to eat (and, indeed, my friend and I each had a small slice of this cake before I sat atop it).

I deeply wish I had not chosen a chocolate cake! As you can see, the whole effect is a bit fecal, to say the least. (And I ruined my underwear. Whoops.)

Q. What makes for a good cake-sit?

A. I don’t really know, to be honest. While sitting on this cake/posing for these photos, I was being directed by my friend, who is a photographer, and a pal of hers who was spectating, who is also a photographer but has an actual kinky interest in cake-sitting. As a result, I’m not sure which of the directions they gave me were for the sake of better photos and which were for the sake of a better cake-sit. They told me to face away from them and lower myself down onto the cake in a straddling position, as you can see, but I think that was more for visual appeal than, uh, butt-feel.

I will say that drawing out the cake-sit into a long, slow lowering seems to be the way to go. I’m sure there are people who are into smashing cakes fast and hard with their butt, but for your first attempt, you probably wanna be able to feel every achingly slow nuance of the experience.

Q. Doesn’t sitting on a cake give you a yeast infection?!

A. This was my concern, too. I’m still not quite sure how people do this without getting vaginal infections left and right, especially if they don’t wear underwear like I did.

I’m relatively prone to vaginal infections and didn’t get one after doing this, which I chalk up to 1) wearing underwear, 2) sitting mostly on my ass and not on my vag, 3) washing up almost immediately afterward, and 4) dumb luck.

Q. What did it feel like?

A. You know that feeling when you sit on the ground outside (say, at a park picnic or a kids’ baseball game) and slowly realize you’ve sat in some mud? It’s a cold, gooey, creeping feeling. Cake-sitting reminded me of that, except with an added squishing/crushing sensation as the cake deflated under the weight of my ass. It was a bit like someone with a cold, squishy dick was ineptly trying to fuck me but drastically missing both of my holes.

It made me wonder what it would be like to sit on some kind of warm pastry, like a recently-baked cherry pie. I suspect that would be a more pleasant feeling, though it depends on what you’re going for.

Q. Did you like it?

A. I think I was more into the spectators’ reactions than I was into the sensation itself – which is fine and makes sense, if you think about how many kinks are more about people’s reactions to them than the activity itself. (Spanking and sexual exhibitionism come to mind.)

The wetness/messiness/”grossness” of the experience just kind of stressed me out. I wonder if that would have been less true if I had been wearing underwear I didn’t care about ruining! But overall, I had fun, and I’m glad I did it.

Q. How do you clean up afterward?

A. My friend gave my butt and thighs an initial scrubdown with a damp washcloth. (True friendship, folks.) Then I went into the house and stripped out of my underwear in the bathroom so I could give my butt and vulva a more thorough going-over, also with a damp washcloth. There was more cake/chocolate on my bits than I had expected there to be, but I managed to get it all off pretty easily. Unfortunately, my panties were not so lucky: I washed ’em thoroughly with soap and cold water (hot water locks in stains!) but they still have permanent chocolate stains. So sad.

Have you ever sat on a cake or engaged in other forms of food play or “sploshing”? Is this something you’d be interested in doing? Got any tips for me if I ever attempt it again?

The Unladylike Project, Part 1: Severe Beauty

Kate Sloan

img_4063I have poured too many hours of my life into worrying about what men think of me. I try not to think too hard about this. Because if I really knew how many hours I’ve spent, how many tears and how much sweat I’ve shed, wanting men to think I’m pretty and fun and attractive… If I really knew how much of my energy has gone into that one singular, reductive, arguably unimportant goal… I think I’d probably have some kind of breakdown.

Look, I love men. Many of my favorite people are men, and many of my favorite days or hours or moments in my life have been spent with men. But the fact is, for all my pontificating about self-love and being happy on your own, I put an awful lot of stock into what men think of me. Our shallow, patriarchal culture is adamant that women’s value hinges on our ability to attract a man, and I’ve bought into that myth hook, line and sinker.

So in an effort to shake myself loose of those chauvinistic shackles, I’m starting a series called The Unladylike Project. In each instalment, I’ll challenge one of the dogmatic beliefs I hold about needing to seem “ladylike” and attractive to men. ‘Cause fuck dogma. I’ll live how I want to, regardless of what men think.

img_4064First up: “severe” beauty. I started thinking about this when my friend Sarah coined the term #SpookyFemme to describe her aesthetic: intense eyebrows, dark-colored clothes, and (most notably) dark lipstick. It’s a style I admire enormously, for its unapologetic boldness and – yes – severity. But on my own face and in my own life, I struggle to rock that spooky-stern look. It just feels like… too much. Too much of a statement, too attention-grabbing, too cyborg-like and not “feminine” enough. So for the most part, I stick to my safe pinks and reds.

When trying to pull apart my actual preferences from the patriarchal culture that shaped them, I find it helpful to ask myself: how would I do this differently if I was alone? Would I still attire myself like this, do my face like this? And in the case of makeup, I know that what I like and what I actually do are not always a perfect match. When I’m spending the whole day alone and experience an urge to play with makeup, most often I do some kind of wild, over-the-top look, with colorful eyeshadow and strange lipstick. It makes me feel powerful – but only in the absence of men who would drain the certainty of that power from me.

16692855009_06fa26a1e0_oLast year, a friend invited me to her spring equinox party. Having hung out with that friend’s crew of pals before, I knew it would be a group of mostly or exclusively LGBTQ women. Queer babes celebrating a witchy holiday with a bonfire, guided meditation, and intention-setting: it was a blast. But getting dressed for the event was almost as fun for me as the event itself, because I had a sense of sartorial freedom that I rarely experience anymore.

Because there were no cis men in attendance, I felt weirdly free to dress how I actually wanted to dress, instead of putting on a “cool girl” costume of sorts. I decided my aesthetic for the evening would be “lesbian witch” with an element of the extraterrestrial, and I chose my ensemble accordingly. A drapey purple cardigan topped off a plain white T-shirt and some obnoxiously bright floral-print leggings. I slipped on my chunky biker boots and hung a rose quartz point on a chain around my neck. As the finishing touch, I clipped two poufs of tulle into my hair, one green and one purple, one on each side of my head, like alien antennae.

I felt powerful in this outfit. My usually-soft femininity felt laser-sharp, aggressively focused, unapologetically intense. And I got compliments on my ensemble all night long.

I’m not a soft, delicate person inside; there’s no reason I should have to attire myself that way. A man who is intimidated by bold beauty will never be able to handle the deeper boldness lurking under my skin. Realistically, any partner who sticks around in my life will need to not only accept my assertiveness but adore it. So maybe I should start dressing more often in a way that shows off my inner dynamo.

It’s okay if some people think I look “weird” or “scary.” Those folks aren’t my key demographic, anyhow.

Feminist Porn Week Diary, Part 3: Fuck Dolls, Phoenixes, & Accountability

Kate Sloan

On Thursday April 16th I went to the Public.Provocative.Porn screening at the Bloor cinema. Good For Her hosts this event each year as an accompaniment to the Feminist Porn Awards: it’s an opportunity for attendees to see a broad sampling of the nominated porn films before the awards ceremony.

I crowded into the theatre with a tiny cup of wine and some peanut M&Ms from the Dollarama next door and settled in to watch the 14 (!) different porn shorts on the program. There was a lot to talk about in those clips but here are some personal highlights:

• Last year’s Heartthrob of the Year, Zahra Stardust (a.k.a. the world’s cutest Australian femme princess), screened her film “Fuck Dolls,” in which she and Lexi Laphor writhe around on the girliest bed of all time, fucking with Barbies. By which I mean both “making Barbies fuck each other” and “using Barbies as sex toys.” Zahra wears silver glittery thigh-high boots, there’s a pink sheath over her Hitachi, and the whole film is chock full of cute girly underwear. I turned to my friend and said, “This is the femmiest thing I’ve ever seen in my LIFE!” and she replied, “I know! This is my dream!!”
• Tobi Hill-Meyer’s film “Bound By Borders” is a “docu-porn” in which she and her long-distance partner intermittently have sex and discuss the injustice of their situation: immigration laws, marriage laws, discrimination against poly relationships, etc. We got only a brief taste of the film at the screening but it was enough to leave me and my friend crying quietly into our sleeves. I’d love to see more of this blend of real-world unsexy emotions with sex in the porn of the future.
• Skyler Braeden Fox made his film “Hello Titty” as a goodbye to his breasts before getting top surgery. What we saw was trippy as fuck and included my favorite on-screen domme, Sadie Lune, being delightfully weird and capping off the scene with a lactation money shot. Yes, you read that right.
• I was excited to finally get to see a clip from Shine Louise Houston’s side project Heavenly Spire, after hearing her mention it at the Feminist Porn Conference two years ago and being immediately intrigued. It’s a porn series that celebrates masculinity on all sorts of different bodies. The clip we saw was a kinky tryst between two cis guys, and it was hot as fuuuuck.

After the screening, there was a brief Q&A with some of the filmmakers and performers. It was cool to see so much local Toronto talent on that stage, including my buddies at Spit!

The next night, Friday April 17th, was the centrepiece of the whole week: the Feminist Porn Awards gala! I spent a couple hours getting thoroughly dolled up (outfit details in a minute) and then rode the subway to the Capitol Event Theatre. (Taking public transit while in full formalwear is always a laugh and a half, lemme tell ya.)

I arrived during the pre-show cocktail hour for VIPs and nominees (and media folks comme moi), so I spent some time milling around the bar sipping white wine and chatting with various porno folks. I am super awkward and the idea of approaching my favorite pornographers to compliment their work is utterly terror-inducing, but I managed it a couple times with the help of alcohol. Hallelujah!

As per usual, the event was emcee’d by Ryan G. Hinds and Lex Vaughn. Some of the presenters were folks I know, like Sophie Delancey and Sam Leigh from Tell Me Something Good, and fellow sex bloggers Lorax of Sex and Kara Sutra. The acoustics in the theatre unfortunately made it really hard to hear what people were saying, but, y’know… they looked fantastic.

CoCo La Creme did some burlesque for us, and was ravishing as always. Her act involved a gas can and a handful of baby oil. The crowd was flabbergasted in the best possible way.

Morgana Muses won the Heartthrob of the Year award, which, hell yeah. She got involved in porn after leaving her marriage in her mid-40s, and the film for which she was nominated this year showed her suspended in gorgeous rope bondage, dressed as a stunning phoenix, symbolizing her “rebirth from the ashes” of her old life. I watched the scene in awe and it is a perfect example of how so much eclectic, emotional, life-affirming stuff shows up under the umbrella of feminist porn. I’ve never walked away from a mainstream porn scene feeling profoundly affected or inspired to change my whole life around, but feminist porn has this effect on me regularly. Amazing.

I was also thrilled about Spit winning an honorable mention award. They’re still a very new company but are deadset on proving they earned this honor and having even better stuff to show off next year, and I totally believe they can do it!

There was some controversy surrounding the FPAs this year, which unfortunately the hosts opted to make light of instead of addressing in any real way. Tobi Hill-Meyer’s acceptance speech on behalf of Courtney Trouble touched on these issues in a tactful and respectful manner; I’m glad someone said something about it (thank you, Tobi) and I sincerely hope the FPAs will address some of the community’s concerns by next year.

Before I sign off this series, some quick outfit pictures!

For the Thursday night screening, I kept things casual and wore a lilac tank top tucked into a black bandage skirt, with a black leather jacket and harness boots. My lips were also painted deep purple, because the feminist porn crowd is a community that can truly appreciate a gothy lip, methinks.

For the awards gala, I wore a strapless black tulle dress that I’d scored at Value Village for $10 (#blessed) with red T-strap heels and a little red bag, both also thrifted. I did a red lip with NARS Cruella and a L’Oreal glossy stain, and felt preeeeetty babely.

Well, that’s my whole Feminist Porn Week wrap-up! (Read the two previous parts here and here.) How did your week go?

Feminist Porn Week Diary, Part 2: Dildo Platters & Tampon-Twirling

Kate Sloan

On Wednesday April 15th I went to the Royal Cinema to see Erika Lust speak about her vision for the future of porn. After her brief talk, she screened several scenes from her inspirational paysite XConfessions – which, as you might remember from my review, I loooove!

Erika’s porn is aesthetically gorgeous, undeniably feminist, and often quite funny. When “I Wish I Was a Lesbian” started playing, I turned to my friend and said, “This is the one with the platter of dildos!!” and I think she thought I was joking… There was also a scene where a man fellated a penis-shaped lollipop in the middle of a public park, during which the audience laughed uproariously. Erika’s sense of humor really shows through in her porn, in addition to her sexual and artistic proclivities!

I think my favorite scene I saw at that screening, however, was “Dude Looks Like a Lady,” in which a seemingly straight cis man starts dressing up in drag and is surprised to discover his partner gets turned on by it. This scene is such a perfect example of how Erika refuses to shy away from topics other porn companies might find distasteful or just hard to categorize.

My outfit that night included a navy and white striped shirt tucked into a black and white polka-dotted skirt, with red tights, red lipstick, and black Doc Martens. I was kind of going for a “50 shades of grey” theme, because of where my evening went next…

After the XConfessions screening, I literally sprinted to the streetcar stop so I’d be on time for the Drunk Feminist Films screening of 50 Shades of Grey. Drunk Feminist Films is a new screening series at the Revue Cinema and it is exactly what it sounds like: a bunch of clever intersectional feminists crowd into a theatre, load up on wine and beer (if they want to), and watch a movie through an analytical lens. Now that’s my idea of fun!

DFF’s 50 Shades event began with a brief talk on BDSM and consent given by kinkster, trauma survivor, and game-maker Soha Kareem. She contextualized the abuse perpetrated by Christian Grey by contrasting it with how real kinksters operate. I felt so proud and fortunate to be at the kind of event where this potentially life-saving information was expressed.

We were all given fliers bearing the drinking game rules for the movie. They encouraged us to drink every time Christian employed abusive tactics, every time Christian ignored something Ana said, every time Ana said something self-effacing, and so on. Needless to say, most of us got pretty drunk. (That movie is a fucking mess.)

My favorite thing about this event, however, was the feeling of feminist sisterhood directed at Ana’s character. Lots of 50 Shades critics have targeted Ana as complicit in her own abuse, or stupid and naive – but at the Drunk Feminists screening, we were encouraged to yell “AGENCY!” and twirl tampons in the air* every time Ana stood up for herself. And, contrary to what I remembered from the last time I saw the film, there were plenty of moments like this. I found myself practically crying each time Ana pushed back against Christian and the whole theatre of feminists erupted in applause and celebratory tampon-swinging.

*Yes, tampons were provided. Yes, it was awesome.

Then I rode home on the subway while sleepily resting my head on the shoulder of a feminist male friend of mine, who asked for my consent before stroking my hair in a comforting manner. So overall it was a pretty fantastically feminist evening!

The next and last part of my FPW wrap-up will cover the Thursday night screening and the Friday night awards gala, so watch out for that!

Feminist Porn Week Diary, Part 1: Burlesque, Disco, & Vulva Cupcakes

Kate Sloan

Last week was one of the busiest weeks of my life! I’ll be servin’ up my summary of the week’s festivities in three parts, to make sure I paint an adequate picture for y’all. Today’s part covers the weekend prior to the official porntastic week, and the event I attended the following Tuesday.

Saturday April 11th was the night of the CrushTO Spring Fling, a fundraiser for Toronto’s very own queer community centre. The centre’s Grand Ballroom had been decked out to look like the world’s cutest high school dance, and DJ Nate Nightcall kept the dance floor hopping with sweet disco tunes all night long.

I had been asked to play a song, which I did, sandwiched between two foxy burlesque performers. I was nervous but the crowd was totally supportive!

Raffle tickets were sold all evening, and around midnight, Jesse chose the winners at random. The prizes were awesome: event tickets, a pole-dancing class, a photography session, and more.

Outfit-wise, I went for a ‘50s femme vibe. I wore a green polka-dotted dress I’d picked up earlier in the week at a thrift store for $7 (seriously!!). I also wore my beloved Frye harness boots, rainbow heart earrings, and hot pink lipstick. Deeeefinitely felt pretty cute!

A few days later, on Tuesday April 14th, I went to Tell Me Something Good, a sexy storytelling event. They do one every month but this edition was particularly well-attended: the little Gladstone Melody Bar was packed, and folks squished in at small tables and even sat on the floor to listen to the sexy stories on offer.

The story theme this month was feminist porn (of course!), and Toronto’s sex-positive community happens to boast a high quotient of pornographers (Spit and Sophie Delancey come to mind), so several audience members had direct experiences with porn production/performance to share. We heard about awkward orgies, pixelated cocks, amateur photoshoot mishaps, personal empowerment through porn, and so much more.

In honor of Cake & Cunnilingus Day, Julia’s partner had baked vulva cupcakes. So cute!

I wore a blue vintage slip tucked into a high-waisted navy skirt – in part because I’d been invited to a porn pajama party later in the evening and I figured I could peel off my skirt and just rock my negligée at the party. (Multi-purpose dressing is a crucial skill for busy femmes!) Unfortunately I didn’t end up making it to the PJ party, but I still had a super fun night anyway. Tell Me Something Good is always a rollicking good time and I highly recommend it to anyone who lives in Toronto or plans on traveling here!

Stay tuned for the next part of my wrap-up, in which I’ll tell you all about my incredibly hectic Wednesday night!