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The Sex Blog Of Record
Tuesday, August 27th, 2024 -- by Bacchus
Recently while fixing broken links I came across a very nice gallery of vintage vibrator advertisements. These advertisements aren’t hard to find in general, but back in 2013 Dr. Gloria Brame had assembled a small but particularly choice selection of them on her old blog, which sadly didn’t survive a subsequent major reorganization of her web assets. I think they’re worth saving, so here they are:
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Sunday, January 10th, 2016 -- by Bacchus
Dude, that’s got to tingle. But, what’s up with the knit undies?
Don’t worry, ladies and interested gentlemen! The weird underwear doesn’t stay on for long.
Photo credit: Men On Edge.
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Friday, December 21st, 2012 -- by Bacchus
So I’ve been rummaging around in the paid area at Sexually Broken, and … no, wait.
I’ve got some rambling to do. But, as I ramble, I’m going to keep dropping pretty pictures of this dude who is “slaving away” (ha!) at his desk while getting a bondage blowjob from Penny Pax:
Let me just be right up front here and say that I really strongly dislike the name of this porn site. For me “broken” means something like “irreparably damaged” (not sexy to me) or it means something like “forcibly tamed” (think unruly wild horses) which doesn’t map very well in my personal fantasy-space to any BDSM fantasies that could rescue it from being too creepy when applied to, you know, actual human women with the capacity to consent (or not).
So, that’s the name. The actual content, though, I like rather a lot better. It’s a rough-sex sort of approach that uses bondage to facilitate the fucking, with a lot of black-diamond-difficulty deep throating, athletic high-energy sweat-and-drool-and-cum squishy-messy sex, and “forced” orgasms facilitated by big powerful vibrators and bondage helplessness. It’s sex you watch for the sheer spectacle of the thing, more than sex you (meaning “middle-aged, moderately-kinky, very lazy persons like me”) actually are likely to engage in. The high energy on display reminds me a bit of the porn style they used to call “gonzo”, but in the bit of rummaging about the site that I’ve done so far, I haven’t spotted any of the hateful elements (the contemptuous spitting and slapping, the pointless verbal abuse) that always ruined gonzo porn for me. What’s more, some of the Sexually Broken movies contain enough pre-and-post-action interviews to make it clear (as gonzo porn rarely did) that the models are happy to be there and comfortable with the menu of shoot activities. The bondage, too, is kind of refreshing in its single-minded focus; there’s less of (not none, but less of) the whippings and canings and floggings, and a lot more of the “in these ropes you’ll be helpless to avoid being ridiculous amounts of pleasure inflicted on you” sexual purpose that BDSM-y fetish porn too-frequently lacks.
So, what does any of that have to do with brokenness? I dunno, I’m still not seeing it. But Sexually Broken has an “About” page that takes a whack at it, and if the name doesn’t make sense to me, the least I can do is let them take their own shot at explaining to the rest of you what they mean by it:
Matt Williams takes wanton beauties, ties them in breath taking positions, and systematically blows their minds sexually.
The girls are bound helplessly in predicaments they have never explored before. Weights are hung from their nipples and their tongues are forced out of their mouth. Matt Williams slides his massive hard cock down their throats till they can’t breath. He only lets them breath when he’s ready and then he begins pounding the backs of their throats. That’s not where it ends though. Matt continues to fuck them in each of their holes. He uses toys to take them to heights they’ve never been to before. In the end he leaves them Sexually Broken.
Updated three times weekly with full HD content, Sexually Broken is the place to find truly original hardcore sex.
For me, the pretty pictures don’t stop being pretty just because I can’t quite parse somebody’s porn site naming/marketing decision:
And I suppose it’s time to confess: I don’t really ever get tired of seeing Penny Pax on my computer screen. I’m a sucker for porn blondes with pretty eyes, what can I say?
But seriously, does this woman look sexually broken to you? Frankly I don’t even think she looks dented — to me she’s got that “really, mister, that foreplay was nice and all and I could use a breather, but I’m far from done here — what else you got?” look in her eyes:
I suppose I should explain that the “blowjob under the desk” scene we’ve been looking at comes from the November 19 update, where the update title is “Apartment 345: A Feature Presentation of Real Life Fantasies From Your Favorite Porn Stars!” It’s a real 45-minute porn movie (not just the more-common “a girl, a guy, a set, a rough bondage sex scene”) framed as Penny’s real fantasies, acted out for your viewing pleasure. And the plot is: she comes home horny, she rides in the elevator with some menacing men who get her erotic imagination going, she imagines one of them pushing into her apartment behind her and making her his abject sex slave for the next eight hours. There are at least five major bondage sex scenes (depending on how you count) of which the one we’ve been viewing so far is perhaps the third. In the last one, she actually gets a little bedraggled looking:
But that’s because (as the sales copy puts it) “he fucks her from behind while dunking her head underwater in the bathtub. She cums so hard…” Which makes (as you can imagine) a pretty edgy and intense bondage sex scene. Closed track, professional driver, et cetera.
After all of which she no doubt actually wanted and needed a bath, and the hot water was right there, right? You’ve got to love intense porn that shows you a bit of the self-care “after”:
But: “broken”? No. Just no. She’s not broken. And for me that’s a good thing.
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Sunday, January 15th, 2012 -- by Bacchus
I have in my hand a curious book called The Stimulators: Swinging Set’s Newest Rage, by Roger Blake, Ph.D. Published in 1968 by Century Books (CB 052), it has semi-abstract cover art medallions (groovy!) and purports to reveal “how sex gadgets of every type are now being peddled openly…and how they are used!”
Psuedo-interviews and “case studies” with anonymized interviewees about taboo sexual topics are a sexual literary genre in their own right, and it’s often imprudent to mistake them for non-fiction. But even a suspected fiction can shed light on historical views and attitudes. In that spirit, I offer this brief anecdote from one “Jim”, described as “an interviewee who volunteered to give information for my research” and as “a fifty-one year old sales who has patronized the better class of professional prostitutes in cities of the South, Southwest, and East Coast for more than 30 years.” So the first anecdote in this account would date from approximately 1938, with the second one presumably later:
The first time I saw one of these [vibrator massagers] I was about twenty-one or so. In Dallas, when I went down to Ma’s the first time and took a client to get some girls. They were Mexicans. And you talk about some beautiful Mexican girls, they were outstanding! Eighteen, nineteen years old and great! We had three of them up in the room, and this one pulls off her blouse and digs out this thing like a barber uses. She went to town on her breasts. She went nuts! Man, they were jumping up and down. The other girls were jumping up and down. They got in a fight to get that vibrator, and the little gal on the left, soon as she got it, she pushed it right in that black forest and it was bzzzzing it up great!
The senoritas were putting on a show. Maybe they were getting their rocks off, maybe not. I think about every other whore I ever had, had a vibrator of some kind. The New York whores are the experts, the real pros with a vibro. They pull the things out of the drawer to the night table like it was as natural as screwing. They know you want a little something extra.
I’ll tell you about Dina Rae, the one I went back to three times, she was so great. Stacked like a brick outhouse with 38Cs for boobs. She straddled me about the chest so her black forest parted to show the crater of that hot volcano. The boobs were dragging my belly. So she puts the vibro to work on my legs and comes up to my rod and it goes right up … up, up, up.
Dina Rae had this gimmick that she was famous for. She lifts up a little bit and puts the vibrator to work along the bottom side of the rod, all up and down the shaft real easy. There’s a rhythm to it finally. She goes down to the base, then starts up slow. I just about come and she pulls it away and starts at the base again. After about three times, I know I’m gonna go off the next one. This final time, she starts up the shaft, then goes back to the base and keeps it bzz-zzing there while she runs her finger all the way up to that big vein on the bottom.
When it shoots off, it’s like a geyser or a volcano erupting. She keeps her mouth about an inch or two away, and she catches about two of the shots and swallows them. The rest of it goes flying all over the boobs and everyplace. So she sits up then and acts sexy rubbing it around her boobs and then working the vibrator all around her boobs until her great big fat nipples are sticking out like two hard nuts.
If you’re still in the mood, she works it down to her twat to get her jollies. She does it sometimes even if you’re not in the mood, all of which leads me to believe that Dina Rae is sincere and does get her jollies that way, and it’s no act.
The Mexican gals were all show. They acted it out, and they’d break up laughing sometimes. It was sexy for the customers, but I think it was a big game for them. Ever since that time way back when, I’ve been hooked on the things. Every pro I’m with, I ask if she’s got a vibro, and I can tell you I think I could count the ones on the fingers of one hand who said they didn’t.
I’m so taken by the groovy cover art medallions, I’ve got to include a higher-res view of them, as found on the back cover of the book (click for larger):
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Sunday, December 13th, 2009 -- by Dr. Faustus
Given my technophilia it was a given that I would read Bacchus’s In Thrall to the Machines post from yesterday, and equally given that I would follow the link for the Hitachi Magic Wand whereupon, on a page dominated by a comely nude model prominently displaying Hitachi’s doubtless fine product, my eyes were drawn straight away to…
For North American use only, on 110-120 volts. Do not use with a voltage converter. Any use outside of North America voids warranty.
And immediately I started wondering “Oh yeah? What happens if I do use a voltage converter? Are the untoward consequences legal in nature? Technical? Sexual?” (Note: I am not recommending anyone actually try this.)
And why am I looking at this piece of text and not at the pretty girl? Hmm. Do I have perhaps…unorthodox obsessions?
Though the second thing that came to mind was perhaps a little more normal, at least for anyone who was an adolescent guy once.
As the robot famously said to human paramour “Earth women who experience sexual ecstasy with mechanical assistance always tend to feel guilty.”
Not anymore, apparently. Good.
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Tuesday, September 1st, 2009 -- by Bacchus
The funny thing is, you can find “massagers” at your local drugstore that are still marketed with much the same language:
From It’s Deadalicious.
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Friday, 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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Monday, May 21st, 2007 -- by Bacchus
Susie Bright has created an Amazon list of must-have sex stuff, and in explaining the list, she’s dashed off several valuable mini essays on vibrators (wall current rules, battery-operated sucks, The Rabbit isn’t all that), lube, and the history of the sex toy industry. The lube portion I particularly like, because she simplifies down to the essentials:
Sex educators are famous for a particular cliche: “communication and lubrication” are what make people happy in bed. But truer words were never spoken.
So, given that essential fact, what lube do you get? My Amazon list is a little truncated because of what I could list on their site.
Vegetable oil is fantastic. Pre-AIDS, it was my lube of choice. If you’re aren’t using condoms, get your favorite oil– almond is really nice, maybe add a little coconut to make it creamy– and go at it. Or just grab the olive oil off the kitchen counter if time is of the essence. It feels great, it won’t hurt you, it’s sexy…. who could ask for more?
For water-soluble lubes, I always liked Probe because it has no taste! The biggest hassle with commercial lubes is that they usually taste AWFUL and make oral sex completely undesirable.
Are there other taste and scent-free lubes? Yes, Probe is my old tried-and-true. Works great with condoms, doesn’t make you ill, doesn’t cause cancer… what a treasure!
However, sometimes you need a lube that goes BEYOND. Sometimes the drugs you’re on, or menopause, can turn you into a prune. How do you get that high-flying crazy slippery feeling that goes on and on and on?
Silicone lube.
That’s why I recommended Liquid Silk for my desert island. It also is the first lube that makes hot tub and shower sex possible and even fun. It’s not water soluble– you’ll have that slippery feeling in your vagina or ass for several hours. But the slickness is so intoxicating. Just don’t use it with other silicone products or they gum each other up! Get that spatula out of your hot tub!
I do, however, find an important omission in Susie’s discussion of power sources for vibrators. She writes:
1) Electricity is essential. I don’t care what sex toy retailers say about battery-operated vibes– the main reason they push them is because they are dirt cheap, (wholesale), and they are lightweight to ship and transport (without the batts, of course!). A Hitachi magic wand is only marked up double its cost to the retailer… so if it’s $40, maybe they paid $20.
But a battery vibe might be a dollar to them and they’ll sell it for $10 or $20.
This reasoning has nothing to do with how it feels, or if women can get off on it. And the “sound” of batteries vibrating against plastic doesn’t mean it’s powerful. They can make an awful racket and not deliver any appreciable sensation.
Can women get off on battery-vibes? YES, some can, some are their mother’s darlings– I’m not on a crusade to get rid of them. But the reason they are hyped the way they are is because of money, not because of universal sexual satisfaction.
The vibrators that are produced by the mainstream appliance manufacturers like Hitachi and Wahl, were originally introduced as “massagers.” They’re quality appliances that will last years and years. I still have the first ones I ever bought in 1981. They have warranties. They have a following that’s been going for decades, based on technology that’s over a century old now.
I always hated selling a woman a battery-operated model for her first vibrator because there was a 50% chance she’d find the whole thing a hoax. However, if I sold her a motor-driven or coil-operated electric model, she’d come out of the ‘try-out’ room with this amazed look on her face, and say, ‘OH! I GET IT NOW!”
I agree wholeheartedly about the puny vibrations you can get from a couple of “C” or even “AA” batteries. When I’ve got a vibrator in one hand and a lady’s labia and clitoral hood in the other, I want some serious jiggle and buzz. “Can you feel it now?” is not the game I am here to play. I have pink bits to vibrate and I want them V*i*B*R*a*T*e*D, not tickled. (For tickling, I have feathers.)
On the other hand, as any roofer can tell you, there isn’t an electrical outlet handy under every current bush, and dragging a power cord behind you is a pain in the ass. The same technology that lets a guy with a tool belt and a hairy ass crack drive sheet metal screws for forty minutes at the top of a sixteen foot ladder (rechargeable ni-cad or lithium-ion batteries, ta-dah!) makes a perfectly acceptable power source for a vibrator. I’ve raved before about the Phantasy Sinnflut, which is a tool-grade rechargeable vibrator that any man could be proud to dock on its charging base in the garage next to his DeWalt drill and his Makita reciprocal saw. It’s nobody’s budget option, but it’s handier than anything with a cord, safer in the shower, and functionally far beyond anything with a disposable dry cell in it.
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