spon – Page 45 – Girly Juice

3 Common Masturbation Problems (& How to Fix Them)

July 6, 2020November 20, 2023Kate Sloan

Sexual problems, while common, are too often cloaked in shame. Most people would rather visit website after website looking for answers to their burning sex questions than ask their doctor, or a friend, or a partner. I think that’s the main reason there are so many recurrent issues in the sexuality field that “sexperts” address over and over – the culture of shame and silence around sexuality leads people to believe they’re alone in their problems, and they’re a freak for struggling with sex or masturbation. It’s sad!

You are not broken or weird or a lost cause if you have sexual struggles. That’s a huge part of what I’ve sought to communicate on this website for all these years. To that end, here are 3 problems many people have with masturbation, and my suggestions for how to solve them. Good luck!

“I can’t orgasm!”

This seems to be a more common problem for folks with vulvas, although it can happen to anyone. Anorgasmia is the “persistent inability to achieve orgasm despite responding to sexual stimulation,” and it can be the result of a medical issue, a medication side effect (common with antidepressants, for example), or – perhaps most commonly – a psychological block of some kind. So my first recommendation would be that you ask your doctor about the problem so they can run some tests and look into it, and also that you research any medications you might be on to see whether this is a side effect you can expect from them. If so, you’ll need to weigh the pros and cons of being on that medication – I couldn’t deal with orgasm-quashing antidepressants, but I didn’t need them so badly that my life would be in danger without them, so YMMV!

Beyond that: especially if you’ve never orgasmed before, I think it’ll just take you some time and practice to figure out how to get there both physically and mentally. Physically, try a vibrator (a good one – it should have rumbly vibrations and a wide variety of speeds/modes to experiment with) or other sex toys that appeal to you. Explore body parts not commonly associated with orgasm, like the nipples, anus, or A-spot, when you’re already at a high level of arousal, because there’s a chance a non-standard form of stimulation may float your boat more than the usual go-to’s.

Mentally, keep reminding yourself that pleasure is about the journey, not the destination. Focus your masturbation sessions on making yourself feel as good as possible for as long as possible – not necessarily on orgasm. Cultivate a fantasy life, whether through watching porn, reading erotica, sexting with someone who turns you on, or just conjuring explicit thoughts from your own brain – some people just need more mental stimulation than others, and that’s okay! Be aware that you quite possibly may have already orgasmed without knowing it at some point. Read about the experiences of other anorgasmic people. Develop language for communicating to partners that a lack of orgasm doesn’t necessarily mean a lack of pleasure. Don’t give up hope, but also don’t put too much pressure on yourself – either you’ll get there one day or you won’t, and either way, your body is magical and beautiful and can experience good sensations.

“I can’t feel my genitals!”

I hear about this most often from cis male masturbators dealing with what’s called “death grip syndrome” – a state of desensitization resulting from the habitual friction of overzealous masturbation – but it can also be the product of strong vibrators, or of medical problems or medication issues as discussed above – so see your doctor if you can’t think of a behavior-based reason this might be happening to you. In most (non-medical) cases, your desensitization will go away after a few days of abstinence from whatever activities originally caused it.

If you want to reduce desensitization factors and amp up your sensitivity going forward, here are a bunch of suggestions: Use a good lube (no matter what kind of genitals you have) and reapply as needed. Use a looser grip on your penis, or switch to a stroker, Fleshlight, etc. so the tightness will be automatically lessened compared to your hand. Use a weaker vibrator, or a lower setting on the one you own, or put a layer or two of fabric between you and the toy, or press it less hard against your body. Try a sensitizing cream or oil containing ingredients like peppermint or cinnamon. Try a penis pump or clit pump before masturbation to (gently) encourage blood flow to the area for more engorgement and heightened sensitivity. Shave or trim your pubic hair to reduce friction and make your sensitive skin more accessible to stimulation. Spend longer on “foreplay” before ever touching your genitals.

“Sex doesn’t feel as good as masturbation!”

Most commonly, I hear this from folks with vulvas who masturbate clitorally and are then surprised and disappointed when penetrative sex doesn’t feel as good. Maybe you know this already, but here’s a reminder: the majority of vulva-possessing people need clitoral stimulation to reach orgasm, since that organ is as central to our sexual response as the penis is to people who have one (the two parts are analogous, meaning they form from the same embryonic tissue). So if your partnered sex contains little to no clit stimulation, that’s the first thing you should fix. Ask your partner to spend more time on oral sex, fingering, or whatever makes you feel good; show them how you like to masturbate, so they can try to replicate it; add clit stim to any penetrative sex you may be having, with your fingers, your partner’s fingers, or a vibrator.

If that’s not your issue but sex still isn’t as good as when you’re by yourself, consider the factors that you think are causing that, and address them. Does your partner not know how to touch you the way you like? If so, show them, and gently help them practice until they figure it out. Do you feel anxiety or stress around your partner that isn’t there when you’re alone? If so, interrogate that, perhaps with your partner, and figure out how to reduce it. (Weed and a blindfold are helpful for me, for example. Sometimes I ask my partner to wear a blindfold so I don’t have to worry about how I look.) Is your partnered sex missing an element of fantasy/mental titillation that you routinely give yourself when you’re alone? If so, watch your favorite porn or read your favorite erotica with your partner, or talk dirty to them about your favorite fantasy, or tell them what you’d like them to dirty-talk about. Basically, examine the conditions that make your solo sex so great, and plan some ways of bringing those elements into the bedroom with your partner!

What solutions have you found for these common masturbation problems?

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

5 Pandemic-Friendly Kinks to Play With While Quarantining

June 18, 2020June 18, 2020Kate 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.

5 Ways to Unlearn the Anti-Black Whorearchy

June 8, 2020June 6, 2020Kate Sloan

Racism and sex worker rights are two issues at the forefront of my mind these days, as my social media feeds overflow with white supremacist police violence, loss of income for many due to COVID-19, and the continuing fallout of the whorephobic SESTA/FOSTA laws that make life more difficult for people whose lives were already pretty damn hard.

Recently I listened to a lecture Tina Horn posted to her Why Are People Into That? podcast feed on the topic of the whorearchy – which I knew existed, but hadn’t thought about in much detail before. For those who don’t know, the whorearchy is the abhorrent sociocultural system of biases by which sex workers can be ranked into a hierarchy and then judged based on their place in it. “Trashier,” “sluttier,” more dangerous and/or more stigmatized forms of sex workers tend to end up near the bottom – strippers and street-based escorts come to mind – while those seen as “classier” or less directly/physically involved with their clients tend to be ranked near the top – think webcam performers, sugar babies, and phone sex operators.

While obviously this paradigm is classist, slut-shaming, and whorephobic, it can often be overlooked that it’s also racist, and specifically anti-Black. Clients and fellow sex workers alike can have both overt and covert racist views that affect how Black sex workers are perceived and treated, and what price they can command. As a white person who only dabbles in sex work here and there, I’m going to pull from writing I’ve read from Black women and sex workers, including Daniella Barreto, Jasmine Sankofa, Terri-Jean Bedford, and more, to recommend some ways you can work to unlearn and oppose the anti-Black whorearchy you’ve likely internalized.

Learn about the labor involved in different kinds of sex work.

There seems to be a common sentiment among those who harbor unexamined whorephobia that certain types of sex work are “easy.” This is why, for example, sometimes privileged women will joke that they’ll “just get a sugar daddy” or make an OnlyFans account when they have a few extra bills to pay, as if these roles are easy ones to slip into and start making money from.

In reality, just about every sex worker out there – from a camgirl in her Toronto basement to a stripper in a sticky-floored New York club to the finest luxury escort London has to offer – puts in waaay more work than you probably think. Marketing, grooming, skill-building, fitness maintenance, client relations… These things take a hell of a lot of effort and time. Researching what’s actually involved in the different kinds of sex work – especially the kinds you view, consciously or less so, as “trashy” or “low-class” – will avail you of those misconceptions pretty quick. (Make sure you’re reading accounts written by actual sex workers!)

Shift your language.

I’ve stopped using the word “whore” the way I used to – as synonymous with “slut” – because I’ve learned from sex worker activists that it’s a term used historically to slander and stigmatize sex workers, and thus only they can choose to reclaim it for themselves. Similarly, “ho”/”hoe” is a derivative form of this word which comes from African-American Vernacular English (AAVE) and thus isn’t for white people’s use. (This is just my understanding; those in the know can feel free to correct me on this if I’m wrong.)

There are lots of unsavory slang terms for various types of sex workers, and many of them have a racist tinge (to say the least). If you’re not sure of the best terminology for a particular type of work or worker, look to the writings of the people doing that work and see which terms they prefer and why. Then, commit to shifting the language you use when you talk about these issues.

Write to your political leaders about SESTA/FOSTA.

The laws known as SESTA/FOSTA were ostensibly created to prevent sexual trafficking – but in practice, they’ve mostly just deepened the existing issue of sex workers being unable to safely advertise and conduct their work, online or off. As with pretty much any issue involving legal repercussions or financial disempowerment, this has hit Black sex workers particularly hard, since (as the news lately has loudly echoed for us) the law enforcement system is hugely racist, and Black folks are likelier than white folks to struggle with economic lack and uncertainty.

For this reason, as Amnesty International USA has argued, sex work decriminalization is a racial justice issue, among other things. Write to your political leaders to demand they work to repeal SESTA/FOSTA – or whatever other anti-sex work laws exist where you live. Many people’s lives and livelihoods depend on it.

Call out whorephobic comments when you hear them.

When I was a kid, there was a strip club in my neighborhood, so we drove by it fairly often. My parents were fortunately chill about it, but I often saw people laughing, pointing, and staring at the signage when they walked by, as if the very idea of a stripper was something to be mocked and belittled. People make whorephobic comments all the time, in a wide variety of ways – many of which are subtly or not-so-subtly racist – and a small thing you can do to fight against sex work stigma is to push back when you hear those comments being made.

While some prefer a more direct or aggressive approach, I usually like to respond to these comments calmly, with facts. When someone pityingly or disgustedly describes sex work as “selling [one’s] body,” for example, I like to point out that tons of other workers – including athletes, massage therapists, dancers, and actors – also make money from the ways they use their bodies. Sometimes the simplest rebuttals and reframes can help someone look at sex work in a new light.

Follow more Black sex workers on social media.

The fastest way to comprehend a group of people you don’t know enough about, in my experience, is to surround yourself with those people and listen to them. Even if you don’t think the anti-Black whorearchy informs your perspective, it probably does – and you can shift its insidious influence over time by just spending more time reading the thoughts, opinions, and work of Black sex workers.

I need to do better at this, myself – most of the sex workers I follow are white, so I know I’m only getting a limited view of the industry and the problems within it. The @BlackSexWorkers account is no longer active, but its Following and Followers lists look like a good place to start. Feel free to recommend folks to follow in the comments if there are any Black sex workers you find delightful/enriching to follow!

This post was sponsored. As always, all writing and opinions are my own. I donated $50.00 USD/$70.00 CAD of my sponsorship fee for this post to the Black Sex Worker Collective; feel free to match me if you have the means!

I Miss Going to Sex Shops

May 25, 2020June 8, 2020Kate Sloan

A selfie taken with Taylor J Mace at one of our local sex shops.

It’s a scary time for almost every type of business, but I’m especially worried about sex shops.

Right now, adult shops in Sydney and New York and Toronto and other metropolises with thriving sex-positive communities are faced with difficult daily questions, like: Should we stay open, offer only curbside pickup and delivery, or shut down completely? Are our sanitization procedures sufficient for the global health crisis we’re facing? Are we supporting our employees as best we can? Is all of this struggling even worth it?

I think it is, and I think most sex shop owners probably think that too. Many of the best sex shops in Melbourne, Los Angeles, Portland, etc. were founded by people who are passionate about sex toys, sure, but also about sex education. Sex shops function as hubs for community learning on topics like pleasure, anatomy, and even consent. I did more direct sex education work in my few months working at sex shops than I’ve done in entire years elsewhere in the sexuality field. I saw people’s eyes light up when they happened upon a new-to-them erotic possibility. I saw people’s excitement radiate off them as they sauntered out of the shop with a fresh sexy treat in a brown paper bag. I saw that this work transforms sex lives and also sometimes saves lives.

I miss sex shops not just as an employee but as a customer. I miss strolling into my local women-owned erotic boutique and being offered a cup of tea to sip as I shop – it reminds me of the very first time I went into that very sex store, when I was 16, and they sold me my first vibrator, no questions asked. I miss trying on lingerie in a fitting room while an attentive salesperson swans around outside, available for insight and advice as needed. I miss picking up a dildo I’ve had my eye on and getting an embodied sense of its size and weight that product pictures online just couldn’t convey. I miss smart salespeople offering tips and tricks for the vibrator I’m buying, life hacks I could take home to a partner for some revelatory fucking. Every sex shop is a treasure, and so are many of their employees.

What can you do to support your favorite adult stores in Sydney or Vancouver or Paris or wherever you live right now? You can order products from them online if they offer that – or if not, try calling them to see if they can arrange a curbside pickup or any other appropriately safe hand-off method. You can buy tickets for online classes or workshops they might be offering. You can refer friends to them, should you happen to know anyone who’s just run out of lube in quarantine or wants to use their lockdown period to try out a neat new sex toy. Hell, you can even buy a gift card to use once restrictions have eased up.

This pandemic is perilous for so many institutions, from New York’s healthcare system to Montreal’s restaurant business to, yes, Brisbane’s adult shops. I deeply hope these de facto sexual community centers can pull through, if just so that more people can discover and take charge of their sexualities, the way I started to when my first sex shop sold me my very first vibrator all those years ago.

This post was sponsored. As always, all writing and opinions are my own. For more info on this topic, read my friend Epiphora’s post!

Things I Hope to Do When This is All Over

May 4, 2020April 28, 2020Kate Sloan

Here’s a fun and dreamy exercise for the coronavirus era. Open up a new document in your notes app of choice, or turn to a blank page in your journal. Make a list titled “things to do when this is all over.” Then let your imagination transport you to a happier place and time in the future.

“This” being “all over” is sort of a nebulous concept at this point, but in my case, I’m choosing to imagine that daydreamy future as one in which a safe and effective vaccine has been developed and distributed around the world, and we can once again walk around outside and gather in groups and go to places (remember places?!) without needing to worry that we’re endangering others or ourselves. What will you do when things go “back to normal” – or when we move into a hopefully new-and-improved definition of normalcy? Here’s what I’m excited to do once we kick COVID to the curb…

Hug my friends and family for as long as they consent to be hugged.
Go to a cocktail bar alone, with just my Kindle to keep me company. Sip excellent drinks, make small-talk with the bartenders from time to time, and revel in the cheery din of my fellow bar-goers.
Curl up on the couch in my parents’ basement and watch a movie with my family – probably a Billy Wilder classic.
Go to La Banane (one of my favorite restaurants here in Toronto) and eat an extravagant platter of oysters and shrimp cocktail while swilling martinis and laughing with my love.
Sit in the front row at the Bad Dog Theatre and see an improv show.
Go on a long, meandering walk through the city while listening to podcasts. Stop into any stores that seem cool and take a look around.
Have group sex again, in some configuration, or just sex in front of a modest crowd at a sex club. In the meantime, there’s always VR porn and Zoom orgies. (It cracks me up that one of the most popular VR porn sites is called BaDoinkVR. Can I just start shouting “BaDoink!” every time I touch a partner’s genitals, like some kind of pornographic slapstick foley artist?!)
Visit the art gallery, the Royal Ontario Museum, the aquarium.
Show up an hour or so before the curtain at the Young Centre for the Performing Arts, dressed to the nines for a solo date. Order a sandwich and a pint at the lobby café, and sit there quietly reading until they open the house. Take a program from the usher, find my seat amongst polite older couples and rowdy art-school teenagers, and read about the cast, crew, and creative vision of the production.
Walk around a big grocery store buying excessively fancy ingredients, which I will later assemble into an extravagant meal.
Sit on a patio sipping a beer and writing.
Walk around a Sephora, testing various lipsticks on the back of my hand until I find one I absolutely must own.
Get on a plane to New York. Stare out the little window at the big city as it unfolds below me. Walk off the plane half-dazed into the wonderful mediocrity of LaGuardia, and get into a yellow taxi.
Swim in a pool or a lake or an ocean or even just a hot tub.
Decide, on a whim, to ask someone who seems to want to kiss me, “Do you want to kiss me?” and, if so, let them.
Go to a burlesque show; hoot and holler when the dancers cast off their clothes.
Get a pedicure or a Brazilian wax or a massage or some other treatment where a careful, skilled person helps me feel better in my body. Tip them well!
Walk into a darkened movie theatre with a bag of popcorn and a box of peanut M&Ms. Settle into some good seats and watch something silly.
Attend a standing-room-only concert – maybe Andy Shauf or Carly Rae Jepsen or Tegan and Sara – and let the crowd throw me around a little as we all dance in place.
Sit in Trinity Bellwoods Park with some friends, smoking joints and telling stories.
Attend an industry tradeshow and marvel at the latest sex toys to hit the market. Leave with armfuls of lube samples and product pamphlets.
Visit my book editors in London or my literary agent in New York or both. Break bread (metaphorically or literally) with these strong, creative women I am proud to be working with.
Walk around a mall for hours, shopping for a dress to wear to some special occasion.
Eventually, tell my kids (?!) – or somebody’s kids, anyway – about what happened in 2020.