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The Sex Blog Of Record
ErosBlog posts containing "sex toys"
December 12th, 2009 -- by Bacchus
Attribution note: I found this thanks to Twitter, but can’t recreate the attribution flow. Quiet Saturday morning, looking at people in my stream, looking at who they follow, reading a few of those, looking at who they follow, seeing a couple of interesting tweets, hitting a profile link… and suddenly I’m reading this.
But first, more preface. The Hitachi Magic Wand is said to be the gold standard among powerful vibrators — too powerful for some, but the first, and in some cases only, way to fly for innumerable women who find orgasm tricky or difficult. And increasingly over the last couple of years, I’m seeing it used in BDSM porn, substituting “forced” real orgasms for the traditional lamely-faked ones. (See, e.g., bits of the trailer or the 4th, 8th, and 10th pictures from this shoot.) I’ve wondered about that on more than one occasion. And now (second run up to the lane, let’s see if I can hurl the bowling ball this time) here’s Post Modern Sleaze:
He’s wrapping me in plastic. I can hear the peel and coil of the wrap, the slight tackiness of it as it folds around my limbs. I’m still hooded, breathing through a tube and sometimes the air stops, rubber inflating and deflating uselessly, enough to bring me part way to a panic. Then released. After a short while, I’m done. Bagged and tagged. There’s only a couple of inches on show, arse and cunt. I’m two holes in nothingness. Squirming a little underneath, to see how it feels.
It feels good, tight enough to be held all over and nowhere to go. There’s the chill drizzle of lube over the exposed flesh, making me slick. I am made of concentrated anticipation. There’s something hard, large and seemingly spherical, pressing against my cunt. I tense as I hear mechanical buzzing and my thoughts race at memories of over-powerful magic wands. I become a little scared. The shape presses inside me, pushing slowly in and out, uncaringly pushing through taut, worried flesh. It’s hard and it hurts enough to mean something. It throbs with weight. And there’s something else, pushed close against my clit. I recognise the hitachi and barely have time to utter a pre-emptive yelp before it roars into life and my body explodes with sensation.
It’s too much. I know it’s too much after two or three miliseconds. It’s too much but it isn’t stopping and I can’t move. I can moan though, which I do, as if the pressure against my cunt and inside me is trying to come out of my mouth. It doesn’t help. I have never felt force like it and it is force, brute force, commanding deep responses. It’s not exactly pain, it’s not exactly pleasure, it pitches between the two, in waves equally unyielding and incessant. I cannot relax into it and I cannot get away from it. Sometimes I’m sucked down by it, other times I can edge myself away a little but then the pitch changes and it’s too strong again.
I tense, almost as if I’m about to orgasm, but the pressure is too much and I can’t. Something has to give. So I started to cry with the helpless frustration of it all. All this time when I thought I was tied up to be the object and instead I am a whimpering scrap of flesh plastered to a bench in thrall to the real machines.
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November 23rd, 2009 -- by Bacchus
I continue to be impressed with the way that mainstream journalism continues to improve its coverage of adult topics. The swift, painful, and on-going ass-kicking that pre-internet commercial journalism has received in the internet age probably has something to do with it, but hey, I’ll take it.
The latest example to catch my eye is this neutral “local business profile” piece in the Las Vegas Weekly, profiling Paradise Electro Stimulations, makers of the P.E.S. line of electrosex (e-stim) toys. Not long ago, a company that makes products with names like “Rectal Pacifier” and “Corona Stimulator with Focusing Pods” would not have gotten the usual “meet our corporate citizens” friendly-profile treatment. Instead, they would have got a sneering “look at these perverts” article if they got mentioned at all.
I’m liking the 21st Century better and better:
Paradise Electro Stimulations, a company founded in the Bay Area but now based right here in Las Vegas, has been bringing erotic electro stimulation (e-stim, for short) to curious adults for more than 20 years. Described by its manager as “the best kept secret” in town, I visited the company headquarters and its adjoining sex shop (that’s The Studio) to see what the (ahem) buzz is about.
First things first: What is e-stim? Erotic e-stim is the use of low-frequency electrical stimulation on the tissue and nerves of male and female genitals.
Most importantly, it isn’t about pain.
“The automatic assumption is shock, cattle prod, Taser, electric fence,” says Anna Fay, who has been doing marketing, customer service, research and development and almost everything else at P.E.S. for nearly a decade. “With this product, it’s not about shock.”
She adds, “You can torture someone by edging them, keeping them from climax, but it’s not about inflicting pain.” Actually, many customers are able to achieve a hands-free orgasm using P.E.S., Fay says. If that’s torture, sign me up.
The simplest form of e-stim comes in the form of electrodes you can insert into the body, as well as various rings. For more advanced users, self-adhesive electrodes are also available. All the electrodes are connected to a power box with knobs to control the pulses and frequencies.
The story goes on in that vein for awhile — the reporter even grasps an electrode and reports on the sensations — before concluding on a pleasure-positive note:
Whatever the reason that first brings customers into the store, Fay says few have hesitations at the checkout stand. “I’m amazed at people who come in completely cold and jump right in,” she says.
I’m less surprised. People will do (or pay) anything for the promise of more pleasure. That they’ll ante up for e-stim isn’t much of a (pardon the pun) shock.
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September 5th, 2009 -- by Bacchus
It’s only fair to let everybody know that I’ve been having to crack down on handcrafted comment spam lately. I think the sex toy sellers are getting desperate for free traffic.
What I’m seeing a lot of (as in, many per day) is short comments, obviously written by a real human, responsive to the post on which they appear, and in all respects the sort of comment that I would normally value (except that, generally, they aren’t very substantive or interesting). And then, in the URL box that gets published with the comment, a long and ugly keyword-stuffed link to a sex toy sales page.
I’m not talking about the obviously-machine-generated stuff (“Hi, I did a Google search and found that most people would agree with you”) or the lazily banal one-word comments (“Hott!”). Those have been with us for years, and I moderate away dozens per day. This new plague consists of longer (but still short) comments that react to the posts in human ways (a recent one was similar to “Wow, it must take a lot of coordination to bring somebody off with your feet like that”), with a link in the URL box in the style of “http://amazing-sex-toys21.com/vibrator-massager-orgasms.html”).
I’ve always gotten a few of these, and I used to moderate them in a way that preserved the comment while refusing to provide the free advertising. I’d edit the comment, strip out the link, pass the comment through moderation, and add the commenter to the “always moderate comments from this source” list. Once or twice a week, it wasn’t too bad. But now, it’s half a dozen times a day, and I haven’t got that kind of time.
I used to think that the spam wars would be lost, if they are, to machine algorithms that got better and better at pretending to be people. And I still worry about that. But I now I also wonder whether the difficult economic times aren’t showing us a glimpse of a distopian future in which infotech is so cheap, and people are so hungry, that handcrafted and human-generated spam begins to make widespread economic sense. If that’s the way it goes, we won’t be winning the spam wars any time soon.
July 9th, 2009 -- by Bacchus
One of the standard “recommended texts” for people getting interested in BDSM is a book entitled Screw The Roses, Send Me The Thorns. When I saw this picture on Spanking Blog, I immediately thought of that title. Apparently it’s possible to have both roses and thorns:
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June 26th, 2009 -- by Bacchus
As you might imagine, I get dozens of PR emails a week from people who want me to promote their adult sites (usually sex toy sales sites). And most of them I ignore, because they all look the same after enough years in the business.
However, there’s a difference between ignoring a PR effort (which leaves open the possibility that I’ll notice or care about the next, more creative effort) and deleting it with extreme prejudice and a derisive mental annotation. And that’s what you get when your PR is fraudulent on its face.
Latest example: I got an email (actually I got about four of these at different email addresses, so I know it was a marketing blast) that went like this, with my comments in [brackets] and alterations (to protect the guilty from the attention they desire) in {curly brackets}:
Hello, my name is Elizabeth , [note the extra space left as a consequence of the “writer” not filling in the last name on their email-spam-generating software’s template] I’m the admin for www.{site}.com. We’re a female friendly, Canadian source for Adult [ooh! Capitalized so you know it’s good!] toys and information. We’ve just finished posting a new Vibrator Guide [ooh! ooh!] on our site and would love to share it with your viewers.
Herewith a digression, in the nature of Bacchus’s suggested alternative Vibrator Guide: “Batteries go in one end. Other end goes on or near her/your clit. Cheap ones burn out fast. Most won’t survive in the bathtub. Get a rechargeable if you use them a lot. Gold standard for lots of sensation is the Hitachi Magic Wand. Next question?”
I’ll betcha a tube of lube mine is more “female friendly” than the one I got spammed in connection with.
Moving on. The spammy PR email I quoted above is mildly risible, but not, as promised, fraudulent on its face. So, what am I bitching about?
Note that it claims to come from “Elizabeth … the admin” for the promoted site. Guess what email it came from?
{malename} <admin@{site}.com>
As you might imagine, I’ve got some advice for {malename}.
1) It’s possible for a male to publish and market a “female friendly” website. You don’t need a fake Elizabeth as a front-woman.
2) If you do decide to gin up a fake Elizabeth as the public face of your company, you might consider getting “her” her own damned email address. But, you’ll still be a moron, because:
3) In the twenty-first century, a new business venture founded on deception is doomed to failure. The internet slashes through and exposes most lies, and, as people’s bullshit meters grow more sensitive, they learn to avoid obvious bullshit (especially empty commercial bullshit with no point to it or need behind it.)
In fairness to {malename}, I need to point out that “his” name is, technically, gender-ambiguous. But, it still ain’t “Elizabeth” or any variation thereof. So, if “he” is a girl, why create a false Elizabeth? The deception, in this case, solidifies my otherwise-necessarily-tentative gender identification.
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February 1st, 2009 -- by Bacchus
Today when I wandered over to the Stockroom website I found a poetry contest with a prize worth more than professional poets tend to make upon publication these days. The booty is a special edition pink version of their Bolero Straightjacket:
Apparently if pink doesn’t work for you as a prize, they’ll substitute a black one, or even (you fussy winner, you!) their more standard-cut Premium Leather Straightjacket. (The black Bolero has been previously featured on ErosBlog; and now they have a red version as well.)
So fire up your poetical engines and start cranking out some (un)suitable verse! “There once was a man from Nantucket…”
Er, on second thought, I’m pretty sure a limerick is not going to win this one.
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July 29th, 2008 -- by Bacchus
This is from a French-language comic called Anna: Innocente Pervertie, by Stragmalia:
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