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This is a question Sex Toys

Lanternchikk asks "How about a vibrant and stimulating discussion on sex toys?" What do you use to get off, and has it ever gone wrong? And yes, we've heard that urban myth, thank you.

(, Thu 17 May 2012, 12:33)
Pages: Popular, 5, 4, 3, 2, 1

This question is now closed.

I used to work in a hospital,
where the nurses would gleefully recount the tale of the man who regularly attended A&E to have a plastic coke bottle removed from his back passage. Came to a tragic end when he decided to progress from 330ml bottles, to a 1.5litre affair (maybe it came free with a takeaway, or something): I don't know if he got it all the way in (I'd like to think not), but, after he realised it was stuck, he attempted to render the bottle into a more pliable state, and so began to heat it up (details are hazy here, maybe he stuck a candle up it, or something) - long story short, he melted it, it stuck to his colon, and he lost sections of his anal tract to emergency surgery, thus bringing his days of innocent bum fun to an unplanned end.
Reeks of urban legend, but they swore it was true.

Seen with my own eyes, however, was a set of notes, which was being passed around by the clinical coding girls, to much mirth and disgust. They were unwilling to show me, at first, but relented, and let me have a look: alongside the usual unintelligible scribble from the doctors, were a set of photos of an old man's tackle, down which had been inserted a considerable length of electrical cable (with the plug and whatever removed from the ends). Must have taken some doing, as it was a thick cable, and the exposed, frayed copper at the ends was something to make the eyes water. I hope I never get that lonely in my old age.

One last note to the public, regarding patient confidentiality: all those in the health service will respect your right to privacy, up to the point where you stick something up your nether regions, or stick a part of your unmentionables in something you shouldn't - at that point, you become fair game. I'm pretty sure that there's a clause in the data protection act, for this.
(, Sun 20 May 2012, 7:51, 1 reply)
I regularly have passionate love-making sessions with this beautiful lady called Mrs. Palmer
and frequently she allows her 5 nubile daughters to join in.

Srsly -cannot believe it hasn't bindun.
(, Sun 20 May 2012, 6:17, 1 reply)
Shazzoir's post about the loveglove reminded me of this...
I used to be an Army Cadet. As such, we used to go away on camps and do silly things that teenagers do when you give them Guns, Gumption and Girls. On one such camp, the conversation turned to fake fannies and how to make your own. There were two competing designs. One, was the one feaured in Shazzoirs link: LoveGlove Video, and mine. Mine was an exotic contraption involving three rubber gloves, two of them filled with warm water and the fingers forming a love tunnel of goodness.

A competition was held involving an independant adjudicator. It gets a bit murky from then!
(, Sun 20 May 2012, 0:35, 5 replies)
Lady finger
Pea Roast, seems apt for this QOTW
Proper filth
A few years ago when, like all young men of early twenties, I would spend my weekends getting wankered then try to cop off with like minded females.
A regular tryst was with a lady of indeterminate age who as luck would have it had her own flat. She and I would retire to her flat after chucking out time and get down to some dirty sweaty shagging.
After a few weeks of this, once trust had been established that neither one of us was a repressed serial killer, things started to get adventurous and she let slip that she would never do anal but she loved a finger up there during doggy style.
To my young ears this news was immense and again, after a few weeks things proceed from my finger to one of them small lady finger vibrators.
So there we were, two sweaty, pissed up twenty somethings hammering away like there was no tomorrow when all of a sudden I lost my grip on the lady finger and up it slipped all the way into her poop chute.
I started panicking, imagining a quick trip to Medway A&E, however she was cool as cucumber, pushed me off rolled over onto her back and shat out the vibrator.
And I really do mean shat out as the lady finger was lubricated on exit.
As for the rest of the night, she washed her herself and we carried on shagging.
Wasn't until I sobered up two days later that the reality of the situation struck home.
And i laughed like a jackal on crack, still brings a smile to my face now.
(, Sat 19 May 2012, 17:18, Reply)
Fisting mittens.
The name feels like it combines two worlds.
(, Sat 19 May 2012, 16:53, 4 replies)
Years ago...
I was in a band with a bunch of doctors. They were for ever telling stories about what they'd had to dig out of people's arses, but one guy had the story that always beat all the others hands down.

The story went that he'd been called to certify a corpse which had been brought into the hospital. This person had put a hook in the ceiling of his house and rigged up a pulley system with which he'd lower himself onto various items which, over time, had grown bigger and bigger in size. On the fateful day, the item in question was the ball-cock float from a toilet cistern. Unfortunately, while lowering him self arse first onto the float, the hook had come out of the ceiling. Unable to move, he'd died from severe internal injuries and been found a few days later. I've never been able to look at a ball-cock the same way...
(, Sat 19 May 2012, 15:17, Reply)
Battery operated toothbrush
Always brush my teeth too hard, so the brush part snaps off sometimes, which I found to be quite advantageous.
(, Sat 19 May 2012, 12:42, Reply)
I've been reading Anomalies and Curiosities of Medicine
which has an eye-watering section on masturbatory/genital/botty mishaps.

You can read it online here -
pinkmonkey.com/dl/library1/digi329.pdf

Here's a taster:

Tompsett mentions that he was called to see a workman of sixty-five, suffering from extreme
rectal hemorrhage. He found the man very feeble, without pulse, pale, and livid. By digital examination he found a hard body in the rectum, which he was sure was not feces.
This body he removed with a polyp-forceps, and found it to be a cylindric candle-box, which measured six inches in circumference, 2 1/2 in length, and 1 1/2 in diameter. The removal was followed by a veritable flood of fecal material, and the man recovered. Lane reports perforation of the rectum by the introduction of two large pieces of soap; there was coincident strangulated hernia.

Hunter mentions a native Indian, a resident of Coorla, who had introduced a bullock's horn high up into his abdomen, which neither he nor his friends could extract. He was chloroformed and placed in the lithotomy position, his buttocks brought to the edge of the bed, and after dilatation of the sphincter, by traction with the fingers and tooth-forceps, the horn was extracted. It measured 11 inches long. The young imbecile had picked it up on the road, where it had been rendered extremely rough by exposure, and this caused the difficulty in extraction.

In Nelson's Northern Lancet, 1852, there is the record of a case of a man at stool, who slipped on a cow's horn, which entered the rectum and lodged beyond the sphincter. It was only removed with great difficulty.

('At stool'? Yeah, right!)
(, Sat 19 May 2012, 12:29, 2 replies)
How to make your own 'Love Glove'
Here is the instructional video. Watch it. Just one thing. Do NOT use handsoap as it's drying and can irritate. Whatever slip-and-slide stuff you normally use will be fine, but good old baby oil is jim dandy. www.youtube.com/watch?v=WNCZ2NiEwuw&list=PLCD82EF7E54EE28E3&index=18&feature=plpp_video

I made one of these at a party for a laugh once and asked for a volunteer to 'test' it. One bloke did and vanished into the loo for a bit. Cue thirty people all hovering outside the door, trying not to giggle like crazy or make a sound. When he started making low moaning noises that got louder and more emphatic, unaware that he had an audience, we were almost dying with mirth. Then he started talking to it. Things along the lines of "That's it, take it all, bitch," each gasped entreaty becoming more and more graphic and when he finally tested the thing to his ultimate satisfaction (the heartfelt teeth-clenching moan was a giveaway) and opened the door, his girlfriend attacked him with the toilet brush for 'being unfaithful'. If she hadn't been so upset and genuinely honest, it would have been more amusing, but she was a bit of a nutter and they broke up that night, there and then. Jealous of a towel and a rubber glove. Far out.

On another note, those 'scalp massage hairbrushes'? GET ONE. In fact, be like me and get TWO. My last one served faithfully for two years and when it died, I wanted to give it a Viking funeral. These things are FANTASTIC for both sexes. Rrrrrrrrrrrrrrr.... www.ebay.com.au/itm/Vibrating-Massager-Head-Body-Hair-Scalp-Comb-Brush-1-/251063642367?pt=AU_Hair_Care&hash=item3a748f28ff
(, Sat 19 May 2012, 11:27, 2 replies)
Phillips...
...make a product called the 'magic wand' who's real purpose (or at least it was advertised as such) is as a therapeutic massager. At the time I was living with a randy musician who pestered me most nights. He thought it was a great idea to purchase one of these for me as a gift, and a sex toy.

I nicknamed it 'the boyfriend replacement'.
(, Sat 19 May 2012, 11:20, 1 reply)
The Venus Frequency.
This may get a little bit long and technical, but bear with me.

As I have mentioned before, I'm a mechanical engineer. As such I like to build things. This is the story of building a unique sex toy.

It all started with jokes about the Brown Note as referenced in South Park. The theory is that a particular frequency will cause resonance in the abdomen, causing a person to lose bowel and bladder control. But then I started to wonder about this- maybe there was another application of the concept?

There are plenty of anecdotes about women having spontaneous orgasms while riding motorcycles or sitting on top of a clothes washer during the spin cycle. So with this in mind a friend of mine and I undertook an experiment in his workshop, where he has all sorts of metalworking equipment.

We got an old fiberglass stacking chair like this one and took the seat off of the base. We built a new base from a piece of 3" steel pipe and a couple of square steel plates, added some rubber grommets to it and bolted it on top. We put four stiff coil springs under it for feet.

Then we went to the dump and scavenged a motor from a clothes washer. To the side of the pulley wheel we welded a chunk of steel that weighed about a pound or two, then attached the motor to the side of the steel pipe base. We ran the power for it through a fairly heavy rheostat and gave it enough cord that a person sitting in the chair could hold the control and adjust the speed.

My girlfriend at the time was our first test subject. She sat down in it and turned it on low speed, then gradually turned it up. After a minute or so her eyes got wide, her breath started to come in ragged gasps and she let out a sound I knew well. When she finally turned it off she could barely walk.

My friend's girlfriend took a turn on it next. From what he said it was surprising that she didn't leave her fingerprints in the arms of the damn thing.

After that my friend's workshop became a very popular place (it was too heavy to carry elsewhere, and a bit too noisy besides). We had no shortage of test subjects, and ultimately concluded that around 1800 rpm was optimal. We had found our Venus Frequency.

After a time, though, the fiberglass chair began to crack from the vibrations, so I abandoned the concept and he said he would dispose of it- it was starting to smell a bit by then anyway.

I don't know for sure what he did with it, but I do know that his wife always seems happy these days...
(, Sat 19 May 2012, 10:59, Reply)
When he beats one of them up for being bad

does he make the other one watch?
(, Sat 19 May 2012, 10:16, 6 replies)
I once crashed my yoghurt truck into her hairy garage...
...this seemed to do the trick.
(, Sat 19 May 2012, 9:51, Reply)
mmmm boobies
Breast toys are fun on a number of levels :

First up are the reviews. Google for Danni's fantasy breasts and marvel at the reviews that are written by the purchasers ('like fucking a tyre') and the fake reviews by the sellers ('so like the real thing..' etc)

Then there's the odd variants. Big breasts in a variety of materials is fair enough, but sticking in ribbing, mouth like openings or similar above or between the breasts I find just a tad freaky.

They're a bit different than a Fleshlight or Tenga fliphole, as you have to get them in a reasonable position (usually on top of a pillow or two), then spread out a towel to catch any come and definitely use lube otherwise it'll rather chafe on your cock.. Just like a proper tit wank the stimulation isn't as direct.

The best ones are damned expensive and difficult to get. It seems that whilst there's now a number of decent blowjob simulators (Fleshlight) it's very difficult to create fake tits. Too hard and it's like fucking cardboard and doesn't move properly. Too soft and it's difficult to keep them in the correct position (after all, there's usually no-one else to hold them if you're using a toy..).

The target market is a bit odd, too - whilst I'm into a bit of a handful, I don't think bigger is necessarily better but the way some people talk on sites that appreciate big breasts is a little scary.

They're just not a substitute for a fun and willing woman with a reasonably ample cleavage, so no worries that someone will leave you for a better toy ;)

Having said that, I do have the Jenna's UR3 toy, and whilst it's not perfect and I only use it occasionally it can create some quite intense orgasms at times. The stimulation on your cock is quite different to that with a fleshlight.
(, Sat 19 May 2012, 1:45, 11 replies)
On the subject of sex...
Honestly what IS the big stigma attached to 'virginity' ?? I mean...throughout history and even religions now they don't half make a big deal of it. 'You must be a virgin to marry!' 'You WILL get 70 virgins in paradise!'
I vaguely remember my first sexual encounter; I just thought 'Oh I'v had sex now...well how about that' cleaned myself up then finished watching antiques roadshow.
(, Fri 18 May 2012, 22:30, 17 replies)
One word:
Aneros.

Buy one.
Follow the instructions and be patient.
Oh yes.

They don't vibrate or anything (not by themselves, anyway) but good God will you enjoy it.
(, Fri 18 May 2012, 22:13, 6 replies)
What on earth must the nurses have thought....
Slightly off topic for my first post, but meh.

Many years back I was on my way home from picking up a few grocery items and found myself locked out of the house. It was mid-december so the weather was more than a little on the chilly side, and none too keen to sit out in the cold and wait for the wife to get home and let me in, I set down my shopping and began to look for alternative means of entry.

As luck would have it, the upstairs bathroom window had been in need of repair for some time, since the handle was bent out of shape and did not close securely. As it was invisible from outside and an elastic band around the handle had done the trick I had yet to do anything about it, so knowing I could simply prise it open, I grabbed hold of the guttering and began climbing.

Alas, not being the best of climbers I clearly did something wrong, and by the time I was halfway up I snagged my belt on something, tugging my trousers a few inches lower than decent before I could unsnag them. I proceeded in this condition as my hands were otherwise occupied in the noble pursuit of "not letting go lest I die".

Just before I could get the window open the pipe began falling away from the wall. It must have looked hilarious, but at the time I did not see the funny side due to my falling backwards to what I expected to be my doom. Fortune smiled upon me though, and as luck would have it my fall was broken by my groceries.

Now what with this being in the days before squeezy ketchup became so popular, I had 2 glass bottle of finest Heinz ketchup in my bag. During the walk home I had become a little wary of how much they were clinking into each other, partially because I did not want to break them, and also because glass hitting glass sets my teeth right on edge. In what I considered to be a stroke of genius I had retrieved my emergency johnny from my wallet and slipped it over one of the bottles. Presto: no more glass on glass torture. With hindsight it was an even better idea than I thought, since I may have suffered serious cuts later on without it.

Alas, this bottle is what I landed on. Between the force of impact, the lowered trousers and the lubrication of the condom, the bottle had suddenly become a new internal organ.


Imagine the horror. I was able to waddle next door and procure a "no questions asked" lift to A&E from the neighbour, and luckily the nurses were able to remove the offending article, but I had a sneaking suspicion that they neither believed my tale of woe, nor intended to keep their promise not to repeat my story to anyone.


Still, at least I got my ketchup back!
(, Fri 18 May 2012, 18:47, 5 replies)
Metal!
When I was young I met most of my love interests while I was out clubbing; either a friend who I finally worked up the courage to pounce on due to the wonderful effects of alcohol, or a sexy stranger who's eyes had met my own across the dance floor...
This means that most of my "seducing a new potential boyfriend" career was carried out within rock clubs.
This, in turn, means that most of my first kisses and makeout sessions were performed while heavy metal songs were blaring through the speakers.
Ever since that time, whenever I listen to heavy metal (especially songs that used to play during that time in my life) my body instinctly gets ready for some sexy fun time and I have the hugest urge to gyrate along to the song and fondle someone.
(, Fri 18 May 2012, 17:32, 4 replies)
I suppose I better wheel this one out again.
Whilst home alone of an afternoon, I like to create increasingly more contrived methods of automating masturbation.

Mainly because I'm a lazy bastard tbh.

Anyways, after various experiments with powertools and anything I can find about the house, the missus and I were doing some serious redecorating so we hired one of those paint-shaking machines. The sort where you clamp a paint-tin in it and switch it on and it oscillates vigourously, and saves you having to stir it manually.

One of these
www.youtube.com/watch?v=FlkAVA39FVU
Which for some reason looks like a parking meter having a fit.

Anyway, wife goes out and I go searching the house for parts to make a machine-penis interface. I fabricated something with a few layers of felt, rubber bands and gaffa-tape.

I started the machine, it was perfect. So I laid on the table next to it, got into position and set it going at about 60%.

Well that didn't take long, maybe 12 seconds. I'd struck gold in wanking efficiency.

Within maybe just over a minute, I'd cum 3 times and things were getting sticky. So I reached for controls, but in my ecstacy the machine had shuddered out of reach.

This was worrying and as I scrabbled around looking for something to cut the power with, pull the plug out anything. It didn't make it easy the fact that I cum two more times.

I was getting light-headed and was beginning to get distressed, though this was regularly punctuated with climaxes which were producing less and less fluid.

After maybe ten mins, I lost count at about 23 or 24. I lost track of time, but when my missus finally came in and rescued me I calculated that I'd been hooked up to it for best part of an hour and had probably orgasmed maybe 40 times. I looked like someone had glazed my abdomen with a dozen eggs.

The muscles behind the penis-root ached like hell. I now have groin muscles like Geoff Capes' biceps and when I shoot my load now I can hit the far wall with it.
(, Fri 18 May 2012, 16:26, 13 replies)
Not what she wanted
Christmas Day 2010

HER: What . . . the . . . Fuck?
ME: It's called Lego Uterus. Look, it's got directions and everything. Here's the labia, the vulva, the Fallopian tubes - everything. The hips even hinge like the real thing. I know it's quite complicated - 157 pieces - but . . .
HER: [speechless]
ME: You can buy Lego Phallus and Lego Embryo if you like. It's a set. I could get them for your birthday?

She left on Boxing Day.
(, Fri 18 May 2012, 16:20, 2 replies)
Ann Summers? Pah
Love Honey is cheaper. However, you can still spend 30 on a rampant rabbit. Sod that. You can get a Hitachi Magic Wand copy for 17 on ebay. It's mains powered so doesn't need batteries and yes it is new not second-hand.

www.ebay.co.uk/itm/NEW-Magic-Wand-Massager-UK-Plug-Super-Powerful-7000-rpm-/220927993848?pt=UK_Health_Massage_RL&hash=item337055a7f8

When we first tried it, Mrs SLVA was finished within 30 seconds. And then again about a minute or so later. So if you're a lazy arse like me, then it's well worth the money.
(, Fri 18 May 2012, 16:18, 5 replies)
Hell hath no fury like my brother scorned.
After a particularly acrimonious break up with his girlfriend involving an unpleasant incident with alcohol half of his rugby team mates and his girlfriend my brother took revenge.

We were sat in the pub getting royally hammered when she phoned. Apparently putting tiger balm on a rampant rabbit is extraordinarily painful and will result in the use of most unladylike language.

I'm not sure what he did to get his own back on the men involved but it will not have been pleasant.
(, Fri 18 May 2012, 16:08, 7 replies)
An excellent novel.
en.wikipedia.org/wiki/A_Melon_for_Ecstasy
(, Fri 18 May 2012, 15:13, 2 replies)
Salad?
I had just begun dating my other half - he lived above some shops in one of London's busier areas, the kind which has plenty of 24 hour grocery shops open along the main street. It was the middle of the night and we'd nipped down the road to get some drinks from the shop. Upon walking into the shop he spies the worlds biggest cucumber and decides he's going to buy it for a laugh. Giggling like little children we place it on the counter along with our drinks. Then my man says those oh-so predictable words to the poor old Turkish chap behind the till, "What do you think we're going to use this for? *wink*" The guy just looked completely confused and replied, head tilted, in a heavy Turkish accent "...Salad?" Cue our hysterical childish laughter.

It never did get used, for either culinary or erotic purposes. It sat there gathering dust and going mouldy until it was finally thrown away.

Length? It was fucking huge.
(, Fri 18 May 2012, 14:00, 10 replies)
Roasted Peas in a pod
Many moons ago, I thought it would be a laugh to make a wax candle / dildo in the shape of my cock, and send it to my ex girlfriend. Remind her exactly what she was missing, that kind of caper. And also to give her light for many, many hours, of course (modest cough).

Now at that time I hadn't heard of dental algenate, so I set about making a mould out of plaster. How clever am I, I thought, because when the erection goes down, it will shrink and I'll be left with a perfect cast, with no need for the complexity of a two-part split mould.

So, I set about it. I cut a suitable hole in a plastic tub, edged the hole with sponge for comfort and sealage, positioned the tub on a cabinet which was at the correct poking height. Then I introduced the relevant body parts, and poured in the plaster.

I immediately hit a problem: plaster of Paris takes about 20 minutes to cure, and it's pretty tough to maintain a hands-free erection for that long -- despite the extensive array of "gentleman's literature" I had carefully prepared for this very task, plus about a week of abstinence to ensure a plentiful supply of "back pressure". Plaster also gets pretty hot while it cures, which adds further complexity to the task. At the time I wished that I'd used "quick set" plaster, though as I understand that this gets hot enough to cook with, so in retrospect I got lucky there.

But eventually the plaster went hard, with at least a semi remaining, so it was time to remove the cast. And here is where I get to the "I'm glad no-one saw me" bit: I found that the pubes on my balls were embedded as a rigid matrix in the plaster. I had effectively re-invented fibreglass, or possibly reinforced concrete.

So I'm standing in my room, naked and with about 2kg of rock swinging from my tenderest parts, firmly attached by the hairs. After trying everything I could - which involved blades in far too close proximity to my tenderest flesh - I eventually realised that there was nothing for it but to rip the damn thing off by brute force. Thankfully my house-mates were all out, so didn't hear the agonised primal screams and protracted sobbing that accompanied this DIY velcro experience.

I ended up with a far-from-impressive candle - like a tea-light that's been left in a hot car - but on the plus side, a beautifully waxed scrotum.
(, Fri 18 May 2012, 13:49, 10 replies)
cheers ape
Apes dubious question below reminds me;

While perusing some 'gentlemans entertainment' I happened upon a video of a woman pretending to be a real-doll. She complied with the guys positioning of her and remained silent and motionless as he relieved himself within her.
How freaky is that? A woman pretending to be an inanimate object which resembles a woman!
Just get married for fucks sake!
(, Fri 18 May 2012, 13:41, Reply)
A lengthy one
When Mrs ScousersPet was still a student, she had a mate called Emma, who who could only be dexcribed as "as fit as a butcher's dog". She lived with a mate who's name escapes me for some reason, who was less attractive in a "still would after a couple of pints" kinda way.

Anyway, enough scene setting.

One night, we were round at theirs after the pub. I can't remember what we were talking about but, whatsherface said to Emma "have you told them about Big John?"
"Nope" she replies "should I go and get him?" and off she trots.

When she came back, she was carrying what I initially thought was a black fire-extinguisher, but on closer inspection turned out to be a massive vibrator. I mean HUGE.

While she was inspecting it, my missus pointed to a couple of lines on the "toy" and asked what they were.

Emma said "oh, sometimes, when we come back from the pub, we'll see how far we can get it up us and the other one will mark it"

When the blood started heading back to my brain, I asked for a demo, but they stated they were both "on the blob" which then prompted a discussion about how women living together get into the same cycle and Match of The Day was on, so that was that.
(, Fri 18 May 2012, 13:33, Reply)
Hitachi Magic Wand
While I was living in Melbourne, Australia I was working on a research project for the FBI in Washington DC, so had to fly to the USA every couple of months. On one trip I met a young girl called Julie in a bar who was 12 years younger than me - we had a night together and then I went back to Aus. She stalked me online and started sending me emails and ringing me up.

A year later she actually saved up and bought a ticket to Australia to come and visit me. I actually had a girlfriend in Australia at this time but that didn't stop her. So the day Julie arrives, I show her into a bedroom at my house and tell her to get some sleep to recover from the jet lag.

The girlfriend and I are sitting in the dining room when there is an enormous *bang* and all the lights go out and the electricity goes off. Julie emerges sheepishly from the bedroom holding a Hitachi Magic Wand vibrator - after a long flight she had decided to squeeze one out - unfortunately she did not realise that the USA and Aus had different voltage systems and she blew all the fuses in the house.

A month later I married Julie - we were wed in the Graceland chapel in Las Vegas, by Elvis of course - I was dressed as a Roman Catholic priest and she was dressed as a schoolgirl. So Yes, I married my stalker, I now live int eh States, and she still regularly uses the Hitachi she bought to replace the one that exploded (http://www.amazon.com/Hitachi-Magic-Wand/dp/B004M8L8MA/ref=sr_1_1?ie=UTF8&qid=1337341501&sr=8-1)
(, Fri 18 May 2012, 13:17, 10 replies)

This question is now closed.

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