Maybe Your Executive Function Just Needs Better Foreplay
On eroticizing the tasks your brain refuses to touch
I want to tell you about my water bottle.
For months, my Dom had been watching me set a water goal, set my own deadline, and then blow right past it — not out of defiance, just…I'd get so absorbed in something, time would disappear, and I'd surface at 8pm genuinely surprised. Every single time. "You and this water," he'd say, with that particular tone that meant he'd clocked a pattern I hadn't fully named yet.
He asked me about it one day. I told him the truth: my body needing hydration wasn't enough of an anchor. The logic of "it's good for you" wasn't moving me.
He listened. Got quiet for a moment.
Then, very casually, he asked: "Do you squirt when you orgasm?"
My ears perked up.
"I'm not sure," I said. "I think I have?"
"Would you like to?"
"Yes."
"Well," he said. "It's difficult to squirt if you aren't hydrated."
I don't know why that lit me up the way it did. But it did!
I felt my face change. My brain, my body — something went oh. OOOOH. I got genuinely excited. Maybe a little embarrassed. I laughed and said something like "daaaaamn, I really am a big ol' freak, huh?" And he laughed too, and assured me, and we had a long stare — the kind that means something got added to the map.
He calls it my Scroll. All the erotic fantasies and experiences I want to have. Squirting made the Scroll. And hydrating myself because it's what my body needs to function as a human? Could not get me to finish a water bottle. But this did.
My completion rate for "Stay Hydrated 💧 " went from 26% in January — the month of that conversation — to 59% in February.
One reframe. One desire. Nearly doubled.
And it wasn't just the water. My Pleasure As Practice (PAP) Substack posting went from 50% in January to 100% in March. Not because I found a better content calendar. Not because I finally got disciplined. Because I got genuinely, erotically excited about what I was making and who I was making it for.
The work became a scene worth showing up for.
I've been thinking about it ever since.
Here's what I've come to understand about my ADHD brain and executive function tasks: the problem was never motivation. It was never laziness. It was never even discipline.
It was desire.
My brain doesn't move toward things because they're logical, necessary, or overdue. It moves toward things that feel like something. Warmth. Anticipation. Aliveness. The tasks that couldn't offer that — the administrative ones, the completing ones, the maintaining ones — just sat there. Waiting. Piling up. Quietly judging tf out of me.
Until I started eroticizing them.
The Writing Ritual
Next to coaching & facilitating, writing is the work I love most. And the work my anxiety attacks most consistently. For a long time those two facts cancelled each other out and I'd end up frozen, half-drafted, circling.
So I built a scene around it.
Late at night, after the whole house has gone quiet. I'm in my office. Soft pink and orange light. Incense. My Prince candle lit (my patron saint of eroticism + pleasure). Water in a beautiful long stem glass within reach — yes, the vessel matters. And I'm in lingerie, or my silk robe, or nothing at all.
There's a curated playlist just for this. The music isn't background — it's part of the container. It tells my nervous system: we're here now. this is the time. make yourself available for what wants to come through.
By the time the candle is lit I'm already writing in my head.
I'm not preparing to write. I'm already in the scene. And when the scene is set, my body knows exactly what to do.
P.A.P: Writing Ritual — Playlist by TheBeautifulOne 🕯️ [link]
The Cooking Revelation
I hate cooking. Genuinely. But it's more than hate — it's the overstimulation of tracking multiple things at once while someone's asking me a question and someone else is walking through the kitchen and something is about to burn and my nervous system is just...done. Scattered across every burner.
And then the recovery. Hours under a weighted blanket, don't talk to me, don't need anything from me. By the time I surface, I have nothing left for the work I'm actually here to do. The things only I can do.
Our chef, my husband, or our son do the cooking in our house. I have come to see that not as a personal failure or a stain on my motherhood, but as an accommodation. Having someone else handle our family's meals so I can protect my capacity is not laziness. It’s resource management for a brain like mine.
I have made my peace with that.
But one day last month I agreed to make a meal. Crockpot, so I only had to prep ingredients, throw them in and walk away — but still. That's chopping, measuring, layering. My nervous system was already negotiating an exit.
And then I thought — wait.
I went upstairs. Put on something short, white, and sheer. Nothing underneath. Set up my camera — I'm an exhibitionist; being watched, even by myself, turns me on. Put D'Angelo on and let him serenade me through one of the most beautiful songs about self-love and presence.
And do you know that I chopped, measured, and prepped an entire meal. Unmedicated. Nervous system at ease the whole way through.
I wasn't performing the task.
I was The Beautiful One — the honorific my Dom calls me — in a scene.
The Laundry Twerk Session
Laundry I can mostly handle. What I cannot handle is putting things away after they're folded. That specific step — the last one, naturally — will sit untouched for days. Weeks. If you've read Maybe Your ADHD Has a Procrastination Kink you already know why.
So one afternoon I looked at the pile and instead of negotiating with myself, I just went and put on something long, black, and sheer with two high splits on the side. No plan. No timer. No productivity strategy.
Just Bounce music and a mirror.
I twerked. I admired myself. I folded something. I twerked some more. I put things away. I caught my own eye in the mirror and kept going.
The pile got smaller. Ayyye! Twerked some more, and then the pile was gone.
Pleasure as the mechanism. Not the reward.
The Gym Membership Scene
I'd been putting off signing up for the gym. The tour, the package options, the signing of things — my brain treated it like a tax audit. Something with seventeen steps and no end in sight.
So I made it a scene.
Pink bodysuit — because I love the way I look in it and the color lifts my mood. I dressed for the version of myself who was already a member.
I set one clear finish line before I left the house: choose a package, sign up, walk out a member. That’s it. Then I timed myself — not to rush, but to clock the truth. My brain had been telling me this would take forever. I wanted receipts.
From the moment I got out of the car to the moment I got back in: the whole thing took less time than I'd spent dreading it.
I walked out a member.
What This Actually Is
I've been tracking all of this. Every eroticized task, every completion, every experiment — logged in what I call my Obedience Log™. Not as productivity data. As research. As devotion. As evidence that something real is happening here.
And what's happening is this: my executive function doesn't respond to obligation. It responds to desire. To sensation. To the feeling that this means something, that my body is invited into it, that there's a scene worth inhabiting.
I've started calling this Eroticized Executive Function™.
It is not a productivity hack. It is not a workaround for a broken brain. It is a different understanding of what a brain like mine actually needs in order to move — and the practice of giving it that, on purpose, without apology.
You don't fix a kink. You learn to play with it.
And when you do — you actually finish.
Before you go — one question.
What’s one task you’ve been dreading that might just need better foreplay?
Share it in the comments. Name the task, name what you’re going to try. Let’s make this a living experiment together.
If this landed somewhere in your body and you want to go deeper — the Procrastination Kink Protocol™ and the full Obedience Log™ system live inside Pleasure As Practice for paid subscribers. Come find me there. 🕯️
This is an interesting perspective. I will have to ponder how to try this in my own life. Thank you for sharing.
The task is to record an episode for my podcast. Im still figuring out what I want try. Full dress up —makeup , hair etc. Or something simple as putting on my favorite dress. Idk yet. I’ve been putting it off for a year.