Why Everyone Should Own Lube

There are very few immutable truths when it comes to sex. Here are a few I think are important: No matter how weird you think your sexual tastes are, there are people out there who are into the same things as you. Informed, ongoing consent is mandatory for any activity. And lube makes everything better.

It seems to me that most queer and trans folks and vagina-having folks are aware of this fact, but a worryingly high percentage of straight cis men are not. That’s largely because the quintessential “straight” sex act – peen-in-vag intercourse – is often depicted in our culture as “not requiring” lube, even though, as with most sex acts, it can be substantially improved by throwing some lube into the mix.

There’s a common cultural narrative that you won’t need lube if you’re aroused “enough,” but of course, that’s bullshit. As sex-positive writers and thinkers like Sarah Jane and JoEllen Notte have pointed out, high arousal doesn’t always lead to high lubrication. It can depend on your body, where you are in your hormonal cycle, medications you’re on, and various other factors. There is no shame in needing or wanting to use lube! In fact, I think just about everyone’s sex life would be improved with the addition of lube if they’re not already using it (and more lube, if they are).

Have I convinced you yet? If so, here are some of my favorite lubes for various fun activities…

For PIV: Good ol’ vaginal intercourse, I find, pairs well with a vag-friendly water-based lube like Blossom Organics. Water-based lubes are ill-suited to predominantly external activities like handjobs, because your body absorbs the water after a few minutes and so you gotta keep reapplying – but since the vagina is self-lubricating for many of us, I find a little water-based lube is often enough to get me started, and then my vag supplies the rest of the moisture I need as I get more and more turned on. I like this one in particular because it’s designed to minimize vaginal irritation (no glycerin or propylene glycol here!) and its taste and smell are inoffensive (a surprisingly difficult quality to find in lubes). Plus it just looks cute on my nightstand.

For butt stuff: I’m ride-or-die for Sliquid Sassy; it’s a known fact. Recently I told my boyfriend I like lots of different lubes and he clarified, “But you’re a Sassy girl at heart,” because he knows me. Sassy is a water-based lube with a thicker consistency than most, so it’s longer-lasting than your average water-based lube and tends to more-or-less stay where you put it instead of dripping all over the place. This makes it a pleasant choice for lubin’ up anything that’s gonna go in your butt, though I use Sassy vaginally a lot too. I appreciate that this lube has only five ingredients and is effectively odorless and tasteless: sometimes you just want a lube that works well without adding any bells or whistles to the experience.

For oral sex: Sliquid Swirl is one of the only actually good-tasting flavored lubes I’ve ever tried – and, crucially, unlike almost every flavored lube on the market, it’s glycerin-free. It comes in lots of different flavors and all the ones I’ve tried have been at least passably tasty, if not outright delicious. Some people find flavored lubes confusing as a concept; I’d invite them to remember that we all get a case of dry mouth from time to time, so sometimes you need a little help with lubrication while going down on your sweetheart. Flavored lube can also just be a silly novelty, for when you want to mix things up – ’cause sex is supposed to be fun!

For handjobs: Whether you’re strokin’ a dick or a vulva, I would heartily recommend The Butters. It’s a smooth, whipped lube made of natural ingredients like aloe vera gel, apple cider vinegar, shea butter, coconut oil, and grapeseed oil. It’s long-lasting and its texture feels divine on the skin. As a bonus, its taste isn’t objectionable at all (to me, anyway), so you can transition from hand stuff to mouth stuff without much trouble. And your skin will feel moisturized as hell afterward!

What are your favorite lubes? Which uses are they best suited for?

 

This post was sponsored by Peepshow Toys, who are generously helping me get to the Woodhull Sexual Freedom Summit this August! Check out their fine selection of lubricants. As always, all writing and opinions in this post are my own.

What Makes Bad Sex So Bad?

I’ve been a sex nerd for a long, long time, y’all. One of the ways this manifested early in my life was subscribing to the Bad_Sex community on LiveJournal.

At the time, I didn’t give much critical thought to why these stories fascinated me so much. But in retrospect, I think they gave me a sense of perspective about sex that I was missing at that time, as a naive virgin whose main understanding of sex came from flowery erotica stories and slick MMORPG cybersex. When the sex media you consume is all smooth ‘n’ hot, it’s easy to overlook how often real-life sex is boring, confusing, unsatisfying, or straight-up bad.

Let me be clear here: I am not talking about sex that’s bad from a consent perspective, i.e. rape, coerced sex, and so on. That is a whole other kettle of fish, obviously hugely problematic in different ways and for different reasons. I am talking about sex where consent is freely and mutually given, that turns out to be bad due to other factors. It happens, and I think we don’t talk about it enough, leaving the young or inexperienced among us with unrealistic expectations of sex as effortlessly perfect and magical.

So I was excited when Lily Wilson reached out to me to tell me about her new book, In the Glow of the Lavalamp: Stories of Bad Sex and Other Misfortunes. It’s a series of short, funny bad-sex tales. Flipping through Lily’s book inspired me to reflect on some of my own memories of bad sex…

The first time I ever had penetrative sex was a mess. Me and a cute lesbian FWB decided our foreplay should be scissoring, since that’s, I guess, the quintessential girl-on-girl act. (Or at least, it was, in the minds of two 16-year-old baby queers who watched too much The L Word.) She’d just purchased some blueberry cheesecake-flavored lube and, having never used lube before, decided one full handful each was the proper amount. We anointed our vulvas with this sticky elixir and then rubbed them together until our muscles ached and the slippery squelching sounds made us giggle so profusely we had to stop.

Next we attempted the centerpiece of our evening: strap-on sex. She suited up in her new harness and slipped a smallish grey silicone dildo through the O-ring. We tried one position, and then another, and another, but no matter what we tried, we couldn’t figure out how to get the dildo into me without hurting me. I’d already used a bigger dildo on myself plenty of times so the hymen hypothesis didn’t check out; it was seemingly an issue of angle and awkwardness.

Finally, we settled on the “cowgirl” position: me on top, astride my pal. I ground down against her for many minutes, looking for an angle that would give me any pleasure whatsoever, but I couldn’t find one. She seemed to be enjoying it, though, so I kept at it… for half an hour. We bucked and writhed in near-silence, just breathing and grunting and sweating. So much sweating. I literally dripped sweat onto her. I felt disgusting. But I couldn’t stop, because she was… into it? Maybe? I couldn’t tell.

When I finally collapsed in exhaustion beside her, I asked, “Did you come?” and she replied, totally mystified, “No. Did you?” Of course, I hadn’t. And the window for any further pleasure had closed, both of us being too overexerted to move, let alone get each other off. We fell into a deep, unsatisfied slumber, in a puddle of sweat, saccharine lube, and bemused disappointment.

The last truly bad sex I had happened last summer, 5 days after a breakup, which should’ve been my first clue it was ill-advised. A beardy Tinder bro talked my ear off at a bar for an hour about his career ambitions, his creative vocations, places he’d been, girls he’d fucked. He mocked the food I ordered, expressed zero sympathy when I mentioned I’d just been through a difficult split, and asked me literally nothing about myself.

And yet, somehow, I decided to go back to his apartment with him. I am not proud.

We smoked weed in his humid attic apartment and launched into messy makeouts, no romance or pretense whatsoever. He awkwardly tried to pin me down because I’d mentioned being submissive, but it felt hollow, perhaps because I’d dated an ardently dominant kinkster so recently and was still sad about it. He went down on me and unleashed a pointy, flicky tongue on my hypersensitive clit, causing me to squirm away and offer breathy suggestions like, “Can you do that slower and softer?” or “Can you focus on the side of my clit instead of right on it?” but he seemed confused by these directives and just kept at it.

After a few more minutes of this, I gave up and tried to transition things into good ol’-fashioned fucking, but neither of us seemed that enthused about his dick being inside me. Finally, he finished himself off on my chest and belly while we kissed. As we laid there in the smoky darkness afterward, he asked, “Did you come?” and I narrowly resisted the urge to exclaim, “LOL, nah, bro.”

Unsurprisingly, what both these bad-sex stories have in common is a lack of assertiveness and communication. There are good reasons for that: the culture we live in encourages us to keep quiet about sex, and also encourages female and feminine folks, in particular, to downplay our needs and focus on making other people happy. I don’t regret these experiences, and my other forays into bad sex, because I’ve learned a lot from every one of those encounters – but I like to think I’d be better at avoiding situations like these nowadays.

Alana Massey once wrote, in an essay about bad first dates, “This life is short and wild and precious, and people are spending way too much time on first dates that they need to skedaddle on out of as soon as they know things are heading south.” I think this sentiment applies to bad sex, too – though leaving any romantic or sexual interaction midway through is, obviously, easier said than done.


Bonus: here’s an interview I did with Lily Wilson, the author of In the Glow of the Lavalamp: Stories of Bad Sex and Other Misfortunes!

Kate Sloan: What made you want to write a book about bad sex?

Lily Wilson: I’d written a story about an incident that was hilariously bad. When I shared it, people began coming out of the woodwork saying, “OH! You won’t believe what happened to me!” They’d tell me their own stories. Many of these were funny. Bad sex happens more frequently than most people imagine; in fact, there’s a universal aspect to it. But we don’t often talk about it. An activity that involves so many complex interactions, so many things that can’t be controlled, is bound to go wrong some of the time. I began to collect the stories and get permission to write them down. They aren’t always funny, but I do love the humor – that’s what makes the disasters bearable.

KS: Assuming we’re talking about sex that is consensual and not coerced, what makes sex “bad”?

LW: Two categories of things can make it bad: 1) stuff that is out of the control of either participant, and 2) choices the participants make. Category One includes things like disasters: the roof falling in on top of you, a giant rat pouncing on the bed… Also in this category would be like illness, accidents, interruptions, that sort of thing. These stories are usually funny, at least in retrospect.

Category Two is more complicated; it covers choices the participants make. Mismatched desires and expectations are behind a lot of bad sex. If both people are not honest about what they want, there’s a strong possibility the sex will be lousy. If person A wants roleplaying, costumes, and trapezes, and person B wants something more basic, and either person fails to communicate, this is not going to go well, probably for either of them. Sometimes people want connection so badly they stifle their needs and desires and attempt to settle for whatever is on offer. Like, OK, I will do y and z, and hope that I can at least have a minute or two of j and k. This approach generally does not produce a happy ending.

Category Two also includes the degree to which each partner cares about the experience of the other. Most of us have been with someone who was completely oblivious to or unconcerned with how the sex was for us… It is very difficult to have a good experience with such a person.

KS: What’s your #1 piece of advice for avoiding bad sex?

LW: Communicate! Make sure your expectations are compatible. Two people don’t have to want exactly the same thing, but it’s important that your expectations don’t nullify theirs, and their expectations don’t make yours impossible to fulfill. Make sure your partner cares about how the experience is for you. That sounds almost too basic to bother stating it, but there are an astounding number of people in the world who seem to be unaware of/uninterested in what their partner experiences. You get to say “No, thank you” to such people.


Thanks so much to Lily for doing this interview and for writing such an interesting book! You can buy it on Kobo or check it out on Amazon here.

Heads up: this post was sponsored, and as always, all opinions and writing (save for Lily’s answers to my questions) are my own.

Come Fly With Me: 5 Travel-Sex Stories

A rumpled morning-after bed at the Wythe Hotel in Brooklyn.

I truly felt like a jetsetter the first time I sexted in a TSA line.

Leaving New York felt impossibly sad, in no small part because of the cute boy I’d just met there – but my bleary travel day was brightened by the salacious selfie I suddenly received from him as I traversed that long, slow line.

“HEEELLLPPP,” I replied immediately, my eyes sweeping over his hairy chest, blue eyes, and full pink lips. “911? Yes, sorry, I received a very fire selfie and my heart exploded. What do I do?”

Without missing a beat, he wrote back: “Yes, this is emergency services. Deep breaths, and don’t take your eyes off it. Your heart will repair itself in a few minutes once it adjusts.”

I giggled maniacally at my screen, blushed hard, tried to collect myself. “I’m in a TSA line,” I explained, “and the people around me 100% must think I’m an idiot right now.”

“Welp,” he replied, “sorry if I set off any alarms.”

“Yeah, I’m probably gonna end up on the no-fly list because of all the stars in my eyes,” I mused. “Those seem hazardous.”

I watched the undulating ellipsis as he typed, until his next words appeared: “Guess you’d be stuck in New York then…” Oh, what a tragedy that would be.


After dropping my friend Mia off at her swanky Airbnb post-drankz one night.

The sluttiest night of my life was the time I accidentally booked two sex-dates for one night. It was purely a scheduling error, not intentional at all – but fortunately, both dudes were amenable to the situation.

Dude #1 was my dommy fuckbuddy at the time. I dropped by his place for an early-evening fuck around 6PM. Wanting to try something new, I’d packed some Kegel balls to insert pre-spanking. A far cry away from traditional vibrators, these jiggly little balls vibrate your bits from the inside out every time you get hit, and they don’t even have a motor. It’s a neat trick, and it went over smashingly.

After that date was done, I rushed home and showered for my next one. Dude #2, a Twitter crush visiting from out of town, picked me up and drove us to my favorite pub. Midway through a giggly, tipsy dinner, I texted my dom from earlier, “Should I fuck this guy? I can’t decide.” He weighed the options carefully, taking the decision seriously, and eventually decreed that yes, I should return to this bro’s hotel with him. It turned my dom on, he said, to imagine me fucking someone else just hours after fucking him. (Dude #2, I should say, knew about this whole exchange and was on board.)

Hours upon hours of hotel-sex and fitful sleep later, I got up at 5AM to head out to my 6AM dayjob. As I walked down the creaky old hotel hallway, I heard a creepy clicking sound that seemed to follow me. When I stopped, it stopped; when I continued walking, it started up again. I looked behind me, ahead of me, and around me, but there was no one. My heart froze in my throat.

And then I realized it was the Kegel balls in my coat pocket, clacking together like a taunting soundtrack for my walk of shame. Whoops.


Dressed up at the Holiday Inn Toronto Downtown Centre.

At Woodhull 2016, a fellow blogger held a gathering in her hotel room. She offered up her collection of reject dildos for us to choose from. What an absolute saint.

I knew what I wanted as soon as I saw it. Unlike vibrators that are inspired by nature, this one was inspired by the utterly unsubtle dick of a fantasy creature. It was a behemoth of a dildo, in my blog’s branding colors: pink and blue. I thanked Luna, its original owner, and then cradled it under one arm as I walked down the hall and got on the elevator to take my prize back to my room.

The thing about conferences held at hotels, though, is that there are always guests who aren’t part of the conference, and you have to contend with them. I’d learned this when I took the elevator down in a loud vulva-print dress the day before – and I learned it again, as I endured an uncomfortable elevator ride with two suit-clad blushing businessmen and one giant dildo in plain sight.

I prayed for time to pass more quickly, and wished I’d brought a bigger purse. And as soon as I stepped off the elevator on my floor, I burst into humiliated giggles. What a trip.


At a hotel somewhere in Chicago.

Pros of using Hotwire to find a hotel room: it’s easy, allows for impulsive sex getaways, and is, above all, cheap.

Cons of using Hotwire to find a hotel room: you have no idea, really, what kind of hotel you’ll end up in until it’s already booked. And that’s scary. Sometimes in a sexy way. Sometimes not so much.

My first anal sex experience took place at the Knights Inn, a low-budget hideaway in Toronto’s infamously rough Regent Park neighborhood. The inn itself was sketchy and mildly unsettling, like a scene from The Shining if the film had gone a little tattered and yellow at the edges.

My valiant fuckbuddy knew what a momentous occasion this was, and how much preparation should go into it. He spent long minutes relaxing me, making me giggle, turning me on. And though he is vanilla as fuck, one way he attempted to rev my engine was by spanking me.

The trouble was, the walls were paper-thin. We could hear a cadre of frat boys getting drunk and rowdy in the next room, and though I considered this par for the course, my FWB was spooked. I could feel him backing off the spanking again and again, terrified of making noise, even though the guys on the other side of the wall were being louder than we would be all night.

My handsome friend bunched the thin hotel-bed sheets in his palms and draped them over my upturned ass, as if that would muffle the sound. He experimented with punching instead of slapping. He fretted and overanalyzed and adjusted and readjusted. Finally, enough was enough, and I told him – laughingly, lovingly – to stop.

Hotel sex is supposed to be an escape, but sometimes you still can’t escape your own inhibitions. It’s okay. There are always other things you can do.


Naked and incredulous at the Standard.

The first time I banged my Sir, we were staying at the Standard High Line in New York, one of the most beautiful hotels I’d ever stayed in. I was so nervous I could hardly walk in a straight line.

As we checked in, the clerk asked, “Are you sensitive to noise? This room is right underneath a nightclub, so it can get loud.” It wasn’t an issue. We had no intention of sleeping, and we planned to be pretty loud ourselves. Not that we told the clerk any of that.

My beau pressed the wrong elevator button twice before he got his shit together and hit the right one. He was nervous. It was cute. I was smitten.

I had packed a slew of sex toys, anything and everything I thought we’d need: impact toys, fancy glass dildos, travel-friendly vibrators, cuffs, a blindfold, a book we both loved (which is indeed a sex toy, depending on how you look at it). At his command, I laid it all out for him to look at, arranged it carefully like an Instagram flat-lay, because I wanted him to be impressed.

He must have been impressed, because as soon as I was done, he bolted toward me and pushed me against the floor-to-ceiling plate-glass window looking out on the city. His kisses were fierce and hot and immediate. I knew what was coming and I knew I would be taken care of. I will never forget the way he looked at me, so tenderly and searchingly, as he removed my clothes for the first time – and the way that cold, cold glass felt against my back as my heart pounded in my chest.

Hotel sex can be many things, but it is almost never boring. I can tell you that much.

 

This post was sponsored by THE LILY by Fleurotics. (They’re running a crowdfunding campaign currently that you should get in on!) As always, all writing and opinions are my own.

Frequently Asked Questions About Daddy Dom/Little Girl Kink

Daddy Dom/little girl kink – i.e. “DD/lg” – is maybe my biggest kink. It feels weird to say that, seeing as it’s only been on my radar for 2-3 years, but it’s true. In the time since coming into and owning up to this kink, I’ve received countless questions about it – so I’ve put together this little FAQ to answer some of the common ones. Hope this helps demystify my foremost perversion for ya!

What is DD/lg?

I’m sure everyone who’s involved in this kink has their own definition, but here’s mine. A DD/lg dynamic is a dominant/submissive dynamic where the style of dominance is more nurturing, benevolent, and supportive than the typical media model that paints dominance as vicious, punitive, or humiliating. There is also an element of ageplay, where the submissive inhabits a psychologically small/young role and the dominant may inhabit a role close to their own age or older than themselves.

What makes someone a Daddy Dom?

If you enjoy playing a dominant role in D/s dynamics but would rather your scenes be about supporting, uplifting, guiding, and nurturing your submissive than humiliating them, hurting them, etc., then you might be a Daddy Dom. That said, this type of dominance can also involve some discipline, pain, and so on, so you don’t have to rule that stuff out completely. Self-identified Daddy Doms are also usually drawn to the ageplay element of this kink, whether they eroticize feeling older/wiser/bigger than their partner, or their partner acting smaller/younger than them, or both.

If you’re curious about this identity but unsure how you feel about it, here’s a Twitter thread where Daddy Doms explained how they first became aware of and comfortable with that identity for themselves. There are some cute anecdotes in it!

How do you know if you’re a little?

I can’t speak for everyone with this kink, but I know how I knew. When I went into a submissive headspace during scenes, I often felt smaller and younger than I did in my everyday life, and found myself slipping into a “little voice” to match (higher-pitched, gigglier, sentences constructed in a more juvenile way). I eroticized feeling younger than many of my dominant partners, even when they were my age or younger. I also noticed that I liked pain and roughness during sex but preferred to view it not as a punishment but instead as something I was enduring to prove myself to my dominant, or even as a reward. My preferred flavor of dominance is one that’s more interested in building me up than cutting me down.

Some littles get even more intensely into the role of a younger person, and may incorporate elements like stuffed animals, coloring books, and pacifiers into their play. I have never been interested in those more overt symbols of ageplay, but for those who are, a DD/lg dynamic (or something similar) could be a way to use those interests.

What’s up with the gendered language?

Anyone can be a Daddy Dom or a “little girl,” regardless of their gender or genitalia. There are also “Mommy Doms,” “little boys,” non-binary versions of either role, etc. As with any kink, there may be more common ways of playing it out but that doesn’t mean you’re limited to those avenues; you can make it yours in whatever way makes sense for you and your partner(s). As for me, I’m a submissive woman who mostly dates dominant men, so the DD/lg dynamic is the specific version of this type of relationship that I’ve played with most often and am currently involved in.

Do you have to use the word “Daddy”?

Nope! Some people hate that word, find it gross/upsetting/triggering, or just don’t particularly connect with it, and that’s totally fine. You can still play with a nurturing style of D/s even if you use different words for it. For example, “Sir” is a word I’ve commonly subbed in for “Daddy” in situations where the latter just didn’t feel quite right for whatever reason. You and your partner(s) can choose whichever honorific(s) you prefer. That goes for any names the submissive wants to go by, as well.

How did you, personally, discover you were into this kink?

I’ve always had crushes on older men, especially those in positions of authority over me, like professors. I used to think this was only because I’ve been a precocious old soul my whole life, but in retrospect, I think there’s also always been a kink element at play. I’m drawn to dominant masculine types who project an easy confidence and a touching level of concern about me and my well-being.

My first DD/lg fantasies surfaced during a class at journalism school that was taught by a hot older lawyer from whom I craved a firm over-the-knee spanking. Not too long after that, I listened to the ageplay episode of Why Are People Into That?, which gave some language to these concepts I had been considering. I started exploring DD/lg dynamics in my relationships, mostly by calling dominant partners “Sir” while wishing I was brave enough to call them “Daddy.” Last summer, I dated my first self-identified Daddy Dom, and while that relationship didn’t work out, it showed me that this dynamic was indeed something I wanted/needed in my life. Now I’m dating another Daddy and I’m so happy!

How does this kink manifest during sex?

I can’t and won’t speak for other DD/lg kinksters, because I’m sure their sex lives vastly vary from person to person. For me, sex with a Daddy Dom usually involves some combination of: Daddy controlling the action of the scene and deciding what we do and when; Daddy “making” me take pain (e.g. spanking, scratching, face-slapping) and/or other difficult sensations (e.g. fisting, forced orgasm play) “for my own good” or for his amusement/gratification; Daddy requesting or demanding service (e.g. blowjobs, handjobs) for his pleasure; Daddy training/instructing me in certain sexual activities (e.g. how to blow him exactly the way he likes it, how to take his whole fist inside me); Daddy giving me pleasure and orgasms, especially as rewards I’ve earned and/or as a treat I have to ask/beg for; Daddy pushing me to my emotionally cathartic limits via intense sensation (e.g. spanking, face-slapping), again, “for my own good;” and Daddy giving me hella good aftercare to make me feel safe and supported once we’re done playing.

How does this kink manifest outside the bedroom?

The DD/lg dynamic doesn’t have to extend outside of sex, but for many folks with this kink, it does. Personally, my Daddy gives me some structure and discipline I relish, like when he sends me a reward (e.g. a video of him winking) for finishing a big work project, or gives me an incentive (e.g. a good long phone-sex session at the end of the day) to take better care of myself. He guides and advises me, within negotiated limits, on both professional and personal matters. Sometimes he gives me tasks or instructions designed to expand my horizons and improve my life, like when he instructs me to go to a restaurant I’ve never been to before or talk to someone I’ve been crushing on. He holds me accountable, making me want to finish all my work and accomplish great things so he’ll be proud of me. His love and support make me feel safe and motivated.

I asked my Daddy what he gets out of the nonsexual parts of our dynamic, and here’s what he said:

“Being able to guide, support, motivate, protect you makes me feel competent and trusted. It makes me feel bigger, like if I can help take care of this other person, I must know what I’m doing somewhat. It makes me feel closer to you when I can anticipate your needs and wants. It makes me feel like you’re fully trusting me when you let me tell you what I think is best for you, let me pick your clothes, and let me give you guidance on career stuff. I get this huge hit of pride when something I guide you toward works out. And even when it doesn’t perfectly, I learn more about my little girl.

It’s also nice sometimes ’cause it lets me do things I want to do, like carrying your stuff, without feeling like I’m taking away any agency or putting you down. Because it’s consensual and for a good reason. Same for picking your drinks.”

Does this have anything to do with actual incest?

Nooo! Or at least, not in the literal sense. I’ve never, to my knowledge, met a DD/lg kinkster who had sexual feelings about their actual parent or child. And I certainly have never had sexual feelings about my actual father.

What’s hot to me about the DD/lg dynamic is the power imbalance, the nurturing quality, and the taboo of it. Those qualities could all exist just as easily in a professor/student dynamic, doctor/patient, step-dad/step-daughter, and various others. I’m not married to the idea of my kink dynamics implying familial relations.

That said, for some people, incest itself is a kink. They may enjoy the taboo of that dynamic. However, from what I’ve gathered in talking to some of those kinksters, even their proclivities aren’t about literally wanting to fuck members of their own actual family. It’s a roleplay, a fantasy, a series of archetypes.

How did you get over shame and self-judgment about this kink?

I am fortunate that a lot of my kinks have come into vogue recently, so they’re more societally accepted than they would’ve been a few years ago. Calling partners “Daddy” is a relatively normal thing now, for example (hotly debated sometimes, yes, but normalized nonetheless). Full-on DD/lg dynamics obviously take this further than your typical “Fuck me harder, Daddy” thrown into occasional dirty-talk, but many people at least have a touchstone now for what could make this kink hot, so I’m less ashamed about this interest than I used to be.

A big part of my shame centered on the names and words themselves, actually, especially the word “Daddy.” For a long time I had trouble saying it out loud; it made me cringe and blush, which I figured meant I just wasn’t that into it. But the more that I practiced saying it and thinking it, the easier it got. Sometimes I would practice while masturbating. Sometimes I would murmur it in a partner’s ear if I was too shy to look into their eyes when I said it. Sometimes I would just think it until I felt brave enough to say it. It was a process.

It’s also helped me a lot to only date/fuck people who are sex-positive, kink-positive, open-minded and non-judgmental. Which is easier said than done, sadly.

Does the Daddy Dom have to be older/bigger/stronger than the submissive?

Nope! I know people whose Daddies are younger than them. My last Daddy was 5 inches shorter than me. My current Daddy is just over a year older than me. Age and size aren’t nearly as important to me as how the person makes me feel. As long as I feel small, safe, and submissive in their presence, all those other factors are superfluous.

Granted, some people have an easier time getting into a submissive headspace when their partner is bigger, older, and/or stronger than them, or when their partner holds more real-world power than they do (privilege, financial capital, etc.) – and if you’re one of those people, then that’s a good thing to know about yourself so you can find what you’re looking for.

How does punishment work in this dynamic?

I think this must differ a lot from person to person, depending on what’s helpful to them psychologically, what turns them on sexually, what they do or don’t conceptualize as a punishment, and what past traumas they may or may not have related to the idea of punishment.

Personally, I don’t do well with traditional punishments. They make me feel like a massive failure and like my partner is actually mad at me, which can lead me into an anxious or depressive spiral. I function much better with positive reinforcement, and don’t get much out of punishment psychologically or sexually.

That said, my Daddy and I have come up with some punishments for me that don’t totally break my brain. Being told to clean my room, wash all my sex toys, or go to an event (because I’m a dyed-in-the-wool introvert) are all things I don’t find especially fun but that are ultimately productive and positive, so they can function as a punishment without making me miserable.

How does this kink interact with non-monogamy?

I would be interested in hearing other DD/lg kinksters’ answers to this, because my experience is that I don’t think I could have multiple Daddies at once, and I certainly haven’t dealt well with the thought of my Daddies having other “little girls.” This dynamic can make me jealous and possessive in a way I don’t feel as much anymore with more traditional D/s dynamics or vanilla relationships. Part of my enjoyment hinges on being not only his little girl but his favorite little girl, his precious perfect only little girl, and maybe some people would say that’s “bad poly,” but right now that’s how I feel.

The DD/lg dynamic requires deep vulnerability and trust (for me and many folks I know, at least), and I find it difficult to go into that vulnerable space when I’m also grappling with jealous feelings. I’ve dealt with this by establishing “DD/lg exclusivity” both of the times I’ve dated a Daddy Dom: we were able to date and fuck other people as per usual, but we reserved names like “Daddy” and “little one” just for each other, and didn’t explore that particular D/s style with others. These boundaries helped me – and continue to help me – feel emotionally safe enough to go deep into our DD/lg connection.

I asked my Daddy for his thoughts on this, as someone more experienced with non-monogamy than I am but who had never done the DD/lg thing before meeting me, and here’s what he said:

Because this is new to me, I’m not sure how my jealousy/compersion feelings would have worked. When you tell me that I’m your Daddy, that already feels very singular and special to me, and I think it’d be hard for my brain to conceptualize two or more. Also once I started viewing you as my little girl, I didn’t want that with anyone else/think it’d be hard for me to have this dynamic with two people at once, because it’s so intense and emotional.

 

What other questions do you have about DD/lg? Leave ’em in the comments!

 

Heads up: This post contains a sponsored link. As always, all writing and opinions are my own.

Why Everyone Should Give (and Get) More Massages (+ 3 Quick Massage Tips)

Hey, can we talk about massages for a sec? They are a more powerful sexual and relational tool than most people realize.

“Massage porn” was one of Pornhub’s top-ten search terms last year. Journalist Maureen O’Connor posits that this is because “massage recipients look comfortable, which, for women in porn, is not always a given… The genre’s conventions simplify the viewing experience. All that remains is the dedicated depiction of successful female arousal and pleasure.”

I find massage soothing in porn for these reasons too, and they translate to my real-life enjoyment of massages as well. In a world which frames sex as a one-way escalator to orgasm, and which dismisses all other trajectories as sexual failures or not really sex at all, it’s soothing to touch or be touched in a way that is explicitly not designed to elicit orgasm.

Of course, there are lots of erotic massage types, and some of them do end in orgasm, or at least can. (I’ve had one such professional massage before, as you may recall!) But sometimes, specifically setting the boundary that a particular massage will be non-erotic, or non-orgasmic, can take massive pressure off both people.

Massage is a way to familiarize yourself with your partner’s body, or your own sensual responses. Too often, once we learn what gets our partner off, we over-focus on that to the exclusion of other fun things, and forget to keep exploring. Sex educator and Girl Sex 101 author Allison Moon recommends “research and development” nights – sex sessions specifically designated for traversing each other’s bodies and learning new ways to make each other feel good, free from the sometimes-burdensome expectation of orgasm – and massage can be like that, too. You can find that one spot behind their knee that makes them moan. You can unravel the tension from their thighs, their shoulders, their back. You can rediscover what it felt like to learn each other’s hotspots from scratch at the beginning.

Some of these benefits are accessible to you even if you don’t have a partner, or your partner is unwilling or unable to massage or be massaged by you. Getting a professional massage somewhere like Tantric Massage London can teach you a lot about your body, what it likes, and what it needs. And you’ll pick up new tricks that you can use when massaging future partners down the road.

With all that in mind, here are 3 quick tips for better sexy massages:

1. Lube, lube, lube. A good, slow, sensual massage typically requires some form of lubrication. Many people go with coconut oil, almond oil, and other natural oils, since they’re effective and usually non-irritating. Keep in mind, though, that if the massage descends into genital-town, you can’t rely on latex barriers for contraception or STI protection thereafter because the oil will break down the latex.

Silicone-based lube can work well if you want a product you can use for both massage and sexytimes, but a) it’s expensive, so you may not want to use it all over the body, and b) it won’t sink into skin, so you’ll need to shower afterward. Overall, probably your best bet is to use a standard massage oil for the massage itself and then switch to a lubricant designed for sex if things go in that direction.

2. Leave your expectations at the door. As the giving partner, you might want to see visible signs of your partner’s enjoyment: sighing, moaning, smiling, melting into the bed, getting turned on/wet/hard, etc. But that largely defeats the purpose of a relaxing massage. You should be prepared for any reactions you might get from your partner, including “none,” and you should let them know they’re free to relax and respond however their body wants to.

Likewise, as someone receiving a massage, try not to get in your head about how you “should” respond to it. It’s okay if you don’t get turned on, or if you do. It’s okay that all the attention is on you for a while: that’s the point! It’s okay if you can’t silence your mind in a Zen manner immediately; that shit takes practice. It’s okay if you get emotional, or if you feel nothing in particular. Try not to judge yourself; just focus on what you’re feeling, to the best of your ability.

3. Massages can be kinky. I’ve often likened rhythmic, thuddy spankings to massages, because they give me the same feeling of endorphin-y bliss via exertion. If the receiving partner of a massage is into pain, perhaps the giving partner could ask for permission in advance to work that proclivity into their massage. Spanking, punching, scratching, and pinching can all be fun additions to a standard massage.

This post was sponsored by the folks at Xmassage – Erotic Massage Directory UK. As always, all writing and opinions are my own!