Staying At Home With Your Sex Machine

If you’re like most people, 2020 has been a year for mostly staying home. If you’re especially lucky, you spent it with someone sweet and sexy and so good in bed that you can get away with calling them your “big ol’ sex machine” as an endearment, without sounding too hopelessly corny. After all, what better way to pass the time, when you can’t face one more Zoom-mediated social contact and you’ve already watched everything on Netflix?

But I am a very modern blogger who reads a social media at least once a day. And friends, some of you are on there with me. So I hear and see your many woes. I know that not everybody got lucky in their sexy-pod formation process. Some of you are caregiving, some of you are single-parenting, some of you were just standing in the wrong metaphorical place when your game of “companionship musical chairs” was interrupted. It’s a grand misfortune to have been between hot sexy lovers when the merry music of face-to-face dating and seduction came to its abrupt end.

In 2020 we have all been forced to acknowledge (sadly) that the inevitable future of fully-functional androids and gynoids is not yet here. We still crave a human touch to feed the skin hunger that’s baked into our biological makeup. (Though having furry pets to snuggle helps… some.) Dildos, vibrators, and those fine-feeling squeeze-and-yank slippery mouth and pussy toys made from new miracle materials — none of them help the skin hunger, but they’re great and fun for scratching itchy libidos. You know what, though? A bunch of what makes sex fun in the moment is the sensation of somebody else moving against you, doing the sexy work so that, in the moment at least, you don’t have to. I guess what I’m saying is, we may not have sex robots quite yet, but sometimes we still want something with a motor in it, a big one that does more than just buzz.

No, we may not have the sex robots we need, not this year and maybe not this decade. But there’s no reason we can’t get occasionally get pushed, pulled, kneaded, sucked, and penetrated by a device powerful enough to call itself a fucking machine. If your politely-vibrating dildo isn’t quite filling your lonely voids, Tim “The Tool Man” Taylor knows the solution: “So I rewired it. Gave it more power!”

The variety of sex machine options available these days is astonishing. This fucking machines list from Extreme Restraints is a great sampling of what’s out there. I’m not saying everybody needs one of these, but I am saying that if you’re feeling like the familiar and faithful sex toys in your toybox aren’t moving you as much as you need right now, well, we’re deep in the 21st Century. We have options! This may not be the flying-cars future we we promised, but eight thick inches of tireless mechanical thrusting is not entirely to be scoffed at. Nor is a powerful auto-stroker that handles your crank so you don’t have to. I say we work (or play) with what we can get.

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Pedal-Powered Dildos

You know those television weight loss shows where they take people to personal trainer boot camp and run them through an intensive exercise program? They could revitalize that whole TV genre — and make some much more interesting television — if they only got some ever-so-slightly-more sadistic personal trainers and invested in some “special” exercise machines:

Art is from a Dofantasy comic, via Bondage Blog.

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The Congress Of Sex Machines

Somebody has too many sex machines:

Found at Fifi’s place.

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Brass Bondage Dildo Chair

I wonder if this wonderful mechanical dildo chair (complete with metal restraints to make sure the pleasure doesn’t stop until the person with access to the control panel says it stops) is as vintage-historical as it looks, or whether it’s a modern-ish steampunky created artifact?

More proof, if you needed it, that fucking machines aren’t just for porn.

From Bondage Blog via Kinky Delight.

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More Robot Sex

I suppose if I am going to post on crazy-ass movies like Robotrix I would be remiss if I didn’t also briefly review a non-crazy book like David Levy’s Love and Sex with Robots: The Evolution of Human-Robot Relationships. From the cover art:

Only fitting. Other little boys seemed to want to grow up to be Batman or G.I. Joe, but I wanted to be Victor Frankenstein.

Levy’s is a good book, though not as exciting as I might have hoped. Levy divides his book neatly into sections on Love and Sex. Love comes across as somewhat ploddingly earnest, an exposition of the almost-obvious. People get attached to objects, don’t they? They very much love their non-human pets, don’t they? They already get attached to robot pets like Tamagotchi and the Sony AIBO. So we can probably expect that when there are humanoid robots that act at least sort-of human, the attachments will get all the deeper.

Yes, I can see that. Even as of 2001, some robots were already looking pretty human:

In the second part, Sex, things do perk up a bit. There’s a lot of good history and exposition here of devices and potential technological precursors to full-fledged sexbots: virtual reality, sex dolls, vibrators and other sex machines are all covered. There’s even an eye-opening account of the teledildonic pleasuring of Net Michelle by Violet Blue at the New York Museum of Sex in 2005 (see p. 267). There are also extended discussions of why men and, perhaps more interestingly, women pay others for sex.

Levy, himself an expert in artificial intelligence, thinks that robots sufficiently appealing to humans to be not just exotic sex toys but something like real partners will likely be in production by about 2050, which might be right — it’s in any event less optimistic than “singularity is near” estimates put out by the likes of Ray Kurzweil. And Levy also thinks that prevailing social trends will make robot sex and possibly even human-robot marriages much more acceptable.

(You mean we have to wait another four decades before you can buy your own robot Selena off of Amazon.com?)

(Life is not fair.)

I’ll offer a technical quibble, which is that the kind of artificial intelligence necessary to make a robot good enough to want to marry would be such a formidable technological breakthrough that we really would be living in an entirely different technological universe, possibly a post-human one in which it would become unclear how or even whether a distinctively human concept like “marriage” would apply. Another possibility, one which Levy himself does not discuss, is that we might be able to make human-like robots whose intelligence rests on modified human whole-brain emulations rather than on hand-coded artificial intelligence. This possibility is one which I’ve written about on ErosBlog before and which is the fictional premise behind the ripping-good science fiction novel Saturn’s Children (by Charlie Stross), which is the book you ought to be reading if you really just want to have fun with this topic.

Though the mention of Saturn’s Children brings up an additional, cautionary thought. In Stross’s novel, ordinary biological human beings die out completely, probably in large measure because robots are more fun to be with than people. Depending on your point of view, you might find that rather sad.

Ancient French Fucking Machines

I have a learned friend — let’s call him “Faustus” — who has a library to make any gentleman proud. He recently sent me an image from Agnes Girard’s Le Sexe Bizarre, with the following note:

Girard’s not-very-informative endnote describes it as “Deux images anciennes de mecano-erotisme, extraites de la revue Maniac, publiee par les editions Astarte. Anonyme – Maniac 5, (ed. Astarte)“, which I would somewhat loosely render “Two old images of sex machines, taken from the serial Maniac (no. 5) published by Astarte.” If you’re further interested, I can attempt a translation of the text in the images themselves.”

As it happens, I’ve seen these images before, in tiny, cropped, overcompressed, illegible .jpg files even worse than the small version below. I’ve never seen them as large and as glorious and as clear (relatively speaking) as the version you’ll see if you click this small one:

Here are a couple of ruthlessly cropped details:

Needless to say, I begged Faustus for his translation assistance, as I have no French beyond a bit of basic cognate recognition. His resulting translation, though not 100% complete, is far better than I would have managed, even with help from my robot friends at Google. Any readers with a better grasp of French, who can thus improve on these efforts, are invited to do so in the comments, but please be gentle; any offense against the noble French language we may have committed is entirely unintentional.

Faustus wrote back:

“The translation turned out to be more challenging than I anticipated, since it involved rather a lot of (1) the kind of French they don’t teach you in high school, (2) somewhat unfamiliar engineering terms and (3) slang, some of which may well be a century old. Some of the print was also small and involved some squinting. So while what I provide represents my best efforts, there are some uncertainties.”

His translation and notes follow:

TOP ILLUSTRATION:

There are really only three captions here. Two rows of dildos labeled “replacement pieces” and “used pieces.”

There is also a reservoir labeled “hot milk.”

BOTTOM ILLUSTRATION:

Main caption: “FUCKING MACHINE”

Second line: “Superior replacement for the hand of man.”

Sub-caption: “On request the apparatus can be delivered with a reinforced main part. Special model for spinsters with a lubricant injector and a progressive speculum. Super model for retired whores, with a lemon-juice bath (in this model the main part only comes in stallion size.)”

Marginal notes above shelf: “Extracts for perfuming the pneumatic mouth” and “Coatings for the main piece.”

The various dildos have labels as follows:

Schoolboy
Re-engaged s/officer [sorry, don’t know what the joke is here]
Fiacre driver [A “fiacre” is a small horse-drawn cab.] (Small pendant sign below this empty slot says “in use”.)
Business traveler
“Dupanloup” — recommended [don’t know what Dupanloup is]
Stallion / “superchois” [best choice?]

Various pieces of equipment are identified, including “emergency clamps,” an “enema pump,” a thermometer, a “pig-bristle swab,” a “butt sponge” and an “emergency corkscrew in case of the main bit breaking.” The bottles on the shelf above are mostly obscure to me, although one is “garlic oil” and another may be “potion for dyspepsia”.

The various parts of the machine, as best I can identify them from left to right: An “electro-brake,” a “hand crank for sliding the connecting rod,” a “sector for orienting the matrix” [unclear], a “main bit in rubber,” a “rotating tit-brusher with mackeral feathers,” [or, alternatively “pimp feathers”], a “dirty movie shower,” a “motor for the tit-brusher and dirty movie shower,” a “control panel with an indicator for the pressure of the fluid pump and thrust counter,” a “rheostat allowing the oscillation-rate of the main bit to be set between 1 and 15 times a second,” a “fluid resevoir (to the base of a dirty little greaser) capacity 40 liters,” a “fluid pump (stamped 20),” a “discharge valve.” There is also a lever labled “emergency brake.” Prudent.

There is a toolbox and a medical kit along the base of the device, as well as explanations that one part makes thins go back and forth, one drains off excess fluids, and one (adjustable) holds the user.

The text on the left side of the illustration reads: “Free demonstration in our store at the Grand Palais, household appliances section.”

There is a warning at the bottom: “Warning: To avoid chafing by the main bit, do not use it more than twenty times per piece.”

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Mandroid The Sex Android (RoboCop Gone Bad?)

Since Violet and Xeni are both going mad for Timothy Archibald’s new book on Sex Machines, I figured it might be time once again to honor the visual innovators in the field, namely, the mechanical geniuses at Fucking Machines. They build (beg? borrow? steal? I don’t really know) some of the best-looking sex machines in the porn world, and put ’em together with hot models. I particularly like this mandroid they’ve been featuring lately — it’s like high-camp erotic horror, only the girls are smiling:

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