Review: Magic Wand Rechargeable

magic-wand-rechargeable

For a long time, I felt about the Hitachi Magic Wand the way I would feel if I met my favorite movie star in person and he turned out to be a sexist asshole.

It just didn’t live up to its cultish following. Certainly, it’s one of the strongest vibrators you can get, and I guess that’s why so many people like it. But vibration strength cannot be the only thing a vibrator has to offer, just as a good-looking man can’t sweet-talk his way into my pants if he also happens to be stupid and rude.

I developed tricks and techniques to make the wand work for me, but still, it tended to languish in my bottom drawer, gathering dust. Eventually I gave it away to a friend… and then, like a scorned lover who keeps returning to the one who hurts her, I bought another one for myself.

It felt like something I “had to” or “ought to” own, not something I wanted to own or liked to use.

But all that has changed now. The Magic Wand has been overhauled in a major way; dropping the “Hitachi” label is the least of these wonderful changes.

magic-wand-rechargeable-buttons-head

I first tried the Magic Wand Rechargeable at #DildoHoliday. I borrowed Piph‘s wand and immediately understood her penchant for “casual Hitachi-ing“: this is a toy that lends itself well to idle, lazy, absent-minded usage – say, while reading fanfic or watching porn. The lowest setting is pleasurable but mild enough that it doesn’t act like clitoral novocaine. I can sit with the head of the wand wedged between my thighs while I scroll through Tumblr, check my phone, or hunt through my drawers for a particular dildo. It turns me on but requires almost zero effort or focus. Neat.

You would think, from the fact that it’s called the Magic Wand Rechargeable, that the most notable change to this toy is its rechargeability. And yeah, it’s great not to be chained to an outlet. But what really excites me about this new wand is that it now has four settings instead of two.

This is a Big Fucking Deal. The old Hitachi’s two settings were ridiculous – I would describe them as “jackhammer” and “jackhammer in an earthquake” – so I usually had to use mine indirectly for it to be comfortable. The two new settings introduced in the rechargeable version are a blessing, a godsend, a revelation. (I am making a lot of religious references… #AllHailHitachi!) The first speed is low, but still pretty stimulating; the second speed, however, is my jam. It’s rumblier than the other settings, making for a deeper, bolder sensation that can get me off with alarming consistency.

The upper two settings are roughly the same as the ones on the original Hitachi. I almost never use them. The toy is quite a bit louder on those high speeds (though the sound reminds me less of a food processor now than the old version did), and they’re also fairly buzzy and numbing. You’ll like ’em if you liked the O.G. Hitachi, but I didn’t, so I don’t.

magic-wand-rechargeable-head

The wand’s head is now made of silicone. HALLE-FUCKIN’-LUJAH. The old head was made of some gross, foamy, porous material, and I’d read far too many horror stories about it getting stained by menstrual blood and all manner of other things. Sex toys should not be stainable! The new wand’s silicone head is entirely smooth, so if your clit loved the texture on the old one, you might be disappointed – but come on: nonporous materials are always better.

The controls aren’t as simple as the flip-switch on the old Hitachi, but they’re still pretty damn simple. One button turns the toy on and off, one cycles through the speeds, and one cycles through the patterns. Easy-peasy. I don’t love vibrators that make you go through the higher speeds to get back to a lower one, but I’m used to dealing with the We-Vibe Tango so that controls scheme doesn’t bug me too much anymore.

The rechargeable wand has a new “feature” where it automatically turns off after 20 minutes, ostensibly to prevent overheating. Weirdly, overheating is an issue that the old wand had but that the new one seems to lack, so this “safety measure” doesn’t make a whole lot of sense. And, as Piph notes, it can seem almost shaming, as if taking longer than 20 minutes would be taking “too long.” Luckily, you can turn the toy right back on again when it turns off.

I actually haven’t encountered the shut-off feature at all, because a) it usually only takes me 5-10 minutes to reach orgasm and b) I typically turn the wand off and on many times during each session so I can get back to the lowest speed. But, before you decide to buy this wand, you should think about the way that you usually use vibrators, and determine whether a loss of power after 20 minutes of continual use would be a potential boner-killer for you.

The rechargeable wand lasts forever on a charge: hours and hours, especially if you tend to use the lower settings. You can use it while it’s plugged in, too. Nicely done, Vibratex!

magic-wand-rechargeable-attachment

As with the previous iteration of the Magic Wand, I tend to use this one with an attachment a lot of the time. It focuses the sensation into a more pinpoint shape, so I can get in between my labia and direct the vibration right onto my clit without buzzing the surrounding area.

However, if you like broader stimulation, obviously the Magic Wand can deliver that smashingly well. My inner labia – not normally a major source of pleasure for me – really enjoy the wand’s vibrations from time to time.

Overall, the Magic Wand Rechargeable is the dependable toybox workhorse I always wanted the Hitachi to be. It does the job and does it well. It’s become a bedside staple for me, and I don’t use that phrase lightly. It’s more than double the price of the original, but that price hike is actually justified.

The Hitachi has often been lauded as the “Cadillac of vibrators,” a one-size-fits-all vibe that could satisfy anyone – and while that’s not true of any sex toy, the Magic Wand Rechargeable is certainly a lot closer to that goal than its predecessor.

What Do You Put On Your Business Cards When You Have an Alter-Ego?

bizcards-3

Oh, business cards. How I love thee.

You may be impractical in this modern, paperless age. You may be expensive to print and difficult to design. You may languish on my desk in boxes, largely untouched, because I so rarely have occasion to hand you out.

And yet, still, I love you.

Recently I got annoyed with my old biz cards because I noticed they didn’t have my Twitter handle on them. I think your Twitter handle is one of the only pieces of information people will ever use when you hand them a business card, at least in web-based industries like the one I work in. So it seemed like a massive oversight that my card was missing mine.

I typed “business card” into Pinterest’s search box and pored over the results for design inspiration. I sketched out possible designs on index cards, because I am a dork. Then I opened up InDesign and Photoshop and got down to business (cards).

bizcards

I’d had the idea to make my card reversible. The upper-left corner would list all my “real-life identity” details, like my journalism portfolio website, vanilla Twitter handle, and phone number. If you spun the card 180 degrees, the new upper-left corner would have all my Girly Juice deets: my blog URL, email, Twitter, and so on.

While I keep those two identities staunchly separate on the interwebz, most people I meet in real life will find out about my sex blogging sooner or later. So I don’t mind handing out a card that “outs” me as a loquacious, lascivious loudmouth.

bizcards-2

The back of the card bears a circle filled with sex-related words and phrases. This helps unify my sex journalism with my sex blogging, while pointing out some areas within sexuality that are of particular interest to me: feminism, gender, body image, masturbation, sex toys, and so on.

My old business card design had a big silhouette of a rabbit vibrator on the back. I liked it, but I got feedback from some vanilla friends and colleagues that they sometimes felt embarrassed if they opened up their wallet in public and someone got a glimpse of my card in there. So I decided to go with a (slightly) more low-key design this time around.

I designed the card in my blog’s colors, which are also my favorite colors: bright turquoise and hot pink. When they were printed (by VistaPrint, if you’re wondering), the pink came out darker than it looked in my original design – it’s more of a deep fuchsia. But I don’t mind; I still think it looks pretty rad.

Sex-industry peeps: how do you deal with the issue of business cards? Do you keep separate ones for your vanilla life and your sexy life, or do you combine them somehow? Do you even use business cards at all? I’d love to geek out about ’em with you in the comments section!

 

GJ Reads Grey, Chapter 6 (first half)

Want to go back? Read the previous chapter or the first chapter.

I guess I shouldn’t have been surprised that chapter 6 starts with Christian climbing into bed next to Ana and watching her sleep for hours. Watching someone sleep is the creeper pastime, after all.

I have never slept with a woman. I’ve fucked many, but to wake up beside an alluring young woman is a new and stimulating experience. My cock agrees.

In the morning, he places some orange juice and Advil next to the bed to soothe Ana’s probable hangover when she wakes up, and then leaves to go for a run. Seems like you should stick around if you take a drunk person home with you, so that they won’t be hella disoriented and terrified when they wake up. But then, of course, this is Christian, and he’s bad at everything.

He’s still calling her “the delectable Miss Steele” in his internal monologue from time to time. This bums me out.

I knock on the door and enter. To my delight, she’s sitting up in bed. The tablets are gone and so is the juice. Good girl.
She pales as I saunter into the room. Keep it casual, Grey. You don’t want to be charged with kidnapping.

Totally, ’cause taking a drunk woman back to your hotel room without her consent and taking her clothes off is A-OK. Right, Christian?

“Did you undress me?”
“Yes.” Who else would have undressed you?
“We didn’t – ?” she whispers, staring at her hands.
Christ, what kind of animal does she think I am?
“Anastasia, you were comatose. Necrophilia is not my thing.” My tone is dry. “I like my women sentient and receptive.”

It strikes me as a form of pre-emptive gaslighting for him to insist to her that he’s not into “animalistic” kinks like necrophilia, when in fact he is going to ask her to enter into a strict BDSM contract without her having any past experience with kink or even sex. He’s pretty self-deluded if he believes that necrophilia is monstrous but dominating someone you’ve manipulated into uninformed submission is just fine.

They engage in more “flirty banter” about the events of the previous night. Christian refers to himself as a “dark knight” and also tells Ana that if she were “his,” he would punish her with a severe spanking for “putting herself at risk” at the bar. I want to smack my head against a wall because Christian is so dense and seems completely unaware of what a hypocrite he is.

An image of her shackled to my bench, peeled ginger root inserted in her ass so she can’t clench her buttocks, comes to mind, followed by judicious use of a belt or strap. Yeah… That would teach her not to be so irresponsible. The thought is hugely appealing.
She’s staring at me wide-eyed and dazed, and it makes me uncomfortable. Can she read my mind? Or is she just looking at a pretty face.

Then he “grants himself permission to touch her,” and after rubbing her cheek with his finger, he tells her, “Breathe, Anastasia.” This is not the first time he has told her this, as if he thinks his mere presence is enough to steal her breath. Arrogant ass.

When I [return from my shower] she’s out of bed and searching for her jeans… She really has great legs. She shouldn’t hide them in pants.

I had a creep literally say this exact thing in a comment on one of my outfit photos. It is so classic male creep to moralize women’s physical attributes, as if we have an ethical and aesthetic obligation to show off our bodies for the benefit of penises everywhere. This is also the same “logic” that’s used to shame fat or “ugly” women into hiding our bodies: beauty and ugliness are reframed as moral issues. Ugh. I haaaaate it.

A boring scene passes in which Ana showers and they eat breakfast together. Christian comments to her, “Your hair’s very damp,” as if he either forgot she just took a shower or is the most boring conversationalist in the galaxy.

“Anastasia, I’m not a hearts-and-flowers kind of man. I don’t do romance. My tastes are very singular. You should steer clear of me. There’s something about you, though, and I’m finding it impossible to stay away. But I think you’ve figured that out already.”

“I’m not right for you. And I don’t want to be with you. But I do! But I don’t. But you should stay away! But I want you. But I’m annoyed by you! But I want to flog you. But…!” Oh, shut up, Christian. Pick a lane.

My mother once told me that if someone warns you to stay away from them, you should listen. HEAR THAT, ANA?

Her hair is beautiful. Lush. Long. Thick. Idly, I wonder what it would be like to braid.

Christian braiding Ana’s hair is one of the moments in the movie that consistently makes me giggle like a loon. I love the idea that such a supposedly macho man enjoys braiding hair.

However, any affection Christian won from me is instantly decimated again in the next scene. Despite having just told Ana he’s “not going to touch her” (not before she signs the BDSM contract he has in store for her), he looks over at her in the elevator, gets hard “instantly,” and then tells her, “Fuck the paperwork” and aggressively kisses her while pinning her arms above her head.

Granted, she seems pretty into it. If he were to ask her afterward whether she consented, I think she’d give a resounding “yes.” But, as we’ve established, Christian’s notions of consent are troubling at best. I don’t think it’s okay to physically trap/restrain someone during your first kiss with them, unless they’ve explicitly told you they want that. If Ana wasn’t into this kiss, how could she escape? She’s in a moving elevator in a stranger’s hotel and her body is immobilized. Dial it back, Christian.

“You’ve brushed your teeth,” I observe with wry amusement.
“I used your toothbrush,” she says, eyes shining.

Oh god. The banter in this book is intolerable.

As he’s driving her home, Christian tells Ana that what happened in the elevator “won’t happen again… unless it’s premeditated.” Okay, good. So he sees why that kiss was problematic, I guess. Although his usage of the word “premeditated” still seems to indicate that as long as a kiss isn’t spontaneous, it’s still allowable even if it’s not mutually consented to. Or am I reading into this too much?

Chapter 6 is a long one, so I’ll be back next week with the second half of it! (Click here to keep reading.)

Monthly Favorites: Smulder Smut & Cumshots

mosaic9646b478aa2e8f09cd1ee726e446e97438998713

Toys

• I’m still diggin’ on the rechargeable Magic Wand. When you want an easy, quick orgasm to alleviate stress, the Magic Wand is the natural choice. That was my situation this month: I had so many deadlines and work gigs that most of my orgasms were of the perfunctory sort. And the Wand was, indeed, Magic in that respect.

• My G-spot’s favorite plaything this month was, once again, the Njoy Eleven. I don’t know if I’ll ever get over it. Sometimes I fall asleep cuddling it. Sometimes I take it in the bath and stay in there for an hour or more. Sometimes it makes me come so hard that I fall off my bed. What can I say? I’m smitten.

• When I could convince myself to use a dildo that wasn’t the Eleven (a rarity), I usually reached for the Tantus Uncut #1 this month. Its girth is ideal for my current preferences, and its realistic-ness went well with all my recent Fox Mulder fantasies (see below).

Fantasy fodder

• I binge-watched season 1 of The X Files in July, and, well, you know me: if I love a show, I love its fanfic too. Archive of Our Own is absolutely rife with Mulder/Scully smut and I am 100% on board. Of particular interest? Scrabble-fuelled fucking, sexual tension + nipple orgasms, and asexual Mulder/bisexual Scully. (I have a thing for oral servitude, obviously.)

• I feel like I say this in every Monthly Favorites post, but I watched a lot of amateur blowjob porn this month. (There’s that oral servitude kink rearing its head again.) At one point, I typed “best blowjob” into XTube’s search box, and it gave me this. I hit the replay button more times than I care to divulge.

• Do you have dirty-talk phrases that haunt you in your pre-orgasmic moments? Particular words and turns of phrase that, for whatever reason, push you over the edge? Some of mine this month: “You like that?” “Let me make you come.” “Come all over my cock.”

Sexcetera

• SO, I POSSIBLY SQUIRTED. I know I should blog about this properly, but I’m still so paranoid that it was just pee (hence the word “possibly”) that I’m hesitant to write about it in depth, incase it was a total fluke. But here’s the combo that seemed to make it happen: an upright position (as opposed to my usual supine pose), James Deen porn, very fast thrusting of the Eleven, the aforementioned Magic Wand, and a longer-than-usual build-up to orgasm. I looked down right after coming and the handle of the Eleven was dripping, as though my lady-come had spurted down the length of the toy. And then I slid the Eleven out and some more liquid sprayed out onto the floor. Hmmmm. Cool!

• I’ve been noticing lately that it feels best to position vibrators on the upper-right quadrant of my clit, instead of in the middle where I’ve traditionally preferred to be stimulated. Interesting how bodies and preferences change over time! Right now, the closer I can get to my internal clitoris, the better it feels for me. Innnnteresting.

• I started a new dayjob this month and it is in the sexual realm (I can’t say any more than that, unfortunately). It is making me think a lot about the way sex work affects our feelings toward sex in our personal lives (though I should clarify that the work I’m doing probably doesn’t count as sex work, or is at least one of the mildest possible forms of it). It’s strange that I can spend an entire 6-hour shift talking and thinking about other people’s sexual experiences and fantasies, but it isn’t until I’m home with the toys and fantasies that get me off that I actually get turned on. (If you know of any good resources about sex workers’ real-life sex lives and how their work affects it, let me know! I’d love to read about that.)

Femme stuff (fashion + beauty)

• I want to wear MAC Red lipstick every damn day. The satin formula is very comfortable and I love the shade on me. It doesn’t last as long as I would like it to, but it’s so perf that I don’t mind.

• I’ve been wearing my GAP 1969 legging jeans a lot. They’re a faded black color so they go with everything, and they’re stretchy enough to feel good whether I’m working all day, shopping, hanging out, or even doing yoga. Hell yes.

MAC pigments are soooo glittery! I got one in the color “Rose” recently and I just want to rock sparkly copper eyelids all the damn time.

What turned your crank the most this month, my loves?

Porn Review: Crash Pad Series episode 196

I love Crash Pad Series because their porn is obviously made for the non-male gaze, unlike all mainstream porn – but it lacks the frustrating clichés that tend to show up in “female-friendly” porn.

Crash Pad’s founder and director, Shine Louise Houston, understands that just because women may not always like the rough-and-tumble, penetration-focused template of mainstream porn, that doesn’t mean we want our porn to depict only soft, “romantic,” gentle sex. We like rough and kinky sex too – we just want it to be geared toward our gaze.

Crash Pad’s porn is also racially diverse, sexually varied, and features folks from all the way across the gender spectrum. Basically, if you’re tired of mainstream porn’s boring template, by-men-for-men pandering, and racist tropes, you’ll probably dig Crash Pad.

This month I was allowed to review episode 196, which is based on a super interesting premise. Arabelle Raphael and Daisy Ducati are tired and overworked sex workers who have recently spent so much time catering to their clients’ fantasies that they haven’t had much time for the kind of sex they like.

Daisy is wearing the cutest pink sequinned halter dress, while Arabelle’s decked out in leopard print. Their friendship seems very genuine: there’s lots of giggling and finishing each other’s sentences. Arabelle complains about all the cis straight dudes she’s been boning lately, and whines adorably, “I wanna fuck something pretty.” Which, of course, leads to Arabelle and Daisy playfully starting to make out.

The ensuing scene is so much fun, and so unstructured, which is one of the things I love most about Crash Pad scenes. It always seems like the performers are just doing whatever the hell they want, instead of following some pre-ordained schedule of events like so many mainstream scenes do (kissing, BJ, 15 seconds of cunnilingus, then fucking in 3 different positions). Both performers alternate between finger-fucking each other, going down on each other, 69ing, using a goddamn leopard-print Hitachi on each other (!!), sitting on each other’s face, and so on. And they seem to do it in whatever order they feel like, for however long they feel like.

Although this clip is femme-on-femme like most mainstream lesbian scenes, it doesn’t feel like those at all. The performers are clearly actually attracted to each other, obviously have experience fucking other women and know how to do it properly, and they do acts that actually get them off (vocally and repeatedly!) instead of trying to make their scene appealing to a straight male eye.

The one mainstream-girl/girl trope that appears here is super-long fingernails, but Arabelle actually refers to hers and makes sure that she’s not hurting Daisy when she fingers her. This is such a nice touch! I am always terrified of the talons that women subject each other to in so many lesbian scenes.

As per usual for Crash Pad, this scene is shot beautifully. The cinematographic style captures the action without being distracting.

Some highlights for me: Arabelle telling Daisy, pre-cunnilingus, “This is gonna fuck up all your makeup.” Daisy going “Yesyesyesyesyesyes!” as she’s about to come. The aforementioned customized Hitachi. Daisy’s curly red pigtails. Arabelle’s backseam tattoos. The performers telling each other, “Treat yourself!” and “This is better than a spa day!” while they lie in the afterglow.

Episode 196 is damn cute and I think it could entertain and arouse anyone who’s a femme, a sex worker, or both. It’s incredible to see folks on screen who actually represent you and the sex you enjoy having, and that is something Crash Pad Series does exceptionally well.