Review: Something Forbidden Butt Plug

I’ve tried a lot of butt plugs in my day, but the Something Forbidden is easily the worst-designed of all of them.

It’s from the official Fifty Shades of Grey collection, meaning it was co-designed by E. L. James, so really, I should’ve guessed it would suck. But I thought that the other co-designer, Lovehoney, would know better, given that they actually make and sell sex toys (including the Sqweel, which I like). But nope. This butt plug is straight-up terrible.

Let’s go through the concerns I have with it, from most horrifying to least:

First off, the base is the WORST base I have ever encountered. It’s ring-shaped, and it is made of incredibly floppy, squishy, thin silicone. I can squish the base completely flat between two fingers with minimal effort. This means that whenever I wear the plug, I am constantly terrified that the base is going to smush together and the whole toy is going to slip inside me, necessitating a mad dash to the emergency room. Not fun.

Secondly, the words “Fifty Shades of Grey” are carved into the side of the plug. Not only is that a lot of tiny text to have to scrub with an old toothbrush during the cleaning process, but also – the text is engraved on the plug itself, not the base. So you’ve got a shit ton of text that can easily become encrusted with, you guessed it, actual shit. And lube, and whatever else. And it’s not that easy to clean. Gross. Major, major design flaw.

Thirdly, there’s a big seam running all the way around the plug. This isn’t the kind of thing I usually notice on sex toys (maybe my butt just isn’t that sensitive?) but I know it drives other people nuts, so it’s worth noting.

If the Something Forbidden were overhauled and those three glaring problems were fixed, I could see it being a decent plug for the kind of audience the Fifty Shades collection is aiming for: vanilla folks who have never or seldom tried kink before (including anal play). This plug is a good size for beginners, at 1″ in diameter, and it has a nicely tapered tip that makes it easy to insert. It also plays well with my favorite lube; I didn’t find I needed to reapply, even after an hour of wear.

The plug comes with a lovely silver-grey storage bag with the words Fifty Shades of Grey printed on it. While it’s obviously not the most discreet storage solution in the world, I still appreciate it. Too many companies forget the importance of including a storage bag, especially with lint-happy silicone toys like this one.

But overall? Please, please, please, don’t buy this plug. It’s a Colossal Butt Hazard. If you want something similarly sized and shaped, but 100% more safe, I highly recommend Tantus’s Meteorite, Slim, or Little Flirt. Or you could pay $60 for the best butt plug ever and never have to worry about your butt’s needs again.

Just stay the fuck away from the Something Forbidden. I do, indeed, forbid you to put it in your butt.

Thanks so much to PinkCherry for providing me with this toy!

How to Wake Up Your G-Spot: A Beginner’s Guide

I have a lot of qualms with the emphasis our culture places on penis-in-vagina sex. I know it’s how babies are made, obviously, so it’s considered the quintessential straight sex act – but I think women really get the short end of the stick on that one.

Most of us can’t have orgasms from penetration alone. Many of us feel too embarrassed – either because of our own insecurities or because of things our partners have actually said – to stimulate our own clits during sex. And some of us, beyond being unable to orgasm during PIV sex, don’t even get any pleasure out of it at all.

I used to be a member of that last group, and it made me feel defective and disappointed. So I started doing some research and experimentation to figure out how to make my G-spot feel pleasure even without getting my clit involved. Here’s what I learned – it won’t work for everybody, but it’s worth a shot.

Get a good G-spot toy. Hang tight, don’t use it yet – we’re going to talk about that in a minute. Just get your hands on one. I often recommend this one because it’s not too expensive and it’s made of firm, G-spot-loving glass. However, if money’s no object, the Pure Wand and Comet Wand are widely considered some of the best G-spot toys on the market.

While you’re shopping, you’ll also want to pick up a good, long-lasting, vagina-safe lube. For a glass or steel toy, you can use a silicone-based lube like Sliquid Silver; if your toy is silicone, you should use a thick water-based lube like Sliquid Organics Gel.

Empty your bladder and lay down a thick folded towel or two. Many folks find that G-spot stimulation feels like the urge to pee, especially when they’re just starting out. This is normal, so don’t get freaked out if it happens to you. But do make sure to lay down some towels so you can relax into the sensation. Nothing kills a mood faster than the sudden belief that you are going to wet your bed.

Partly for this reason, I also think it’s best if you start out doing this stuff on your own, as opposed to with a partner. Even if you have the most open-minded, non-judgmental partner in the world, another set of eyes could still make you feel vulnerable and ashamed under certain circumstances. Try it alone first until you’re used to how it feels, and then you can invite your partner to join the party if you want to.

Get yourself very turned on. Do this in a way that’s reliable for you: trusty clit vibe, favorite porn, etc. Get close to orgasm but don’t quite bring yourself there yet.

Slowly add G-spot stimulation. Lube up the toy you chose before and slide it in, while continuing to stimulate your clit. Try to focus on the feelings in your clit so you won’t get too disoriented or sidetracked by the new, foreign sensations in your G-spot.

Place your focus on the G-spot stimulation. I don’t know about you, but I usually have to concentrate pretty hard on what my clit is feeling in order to get off… except for occasional sessions where my focus shifts to my G-spot. These orgasms are always more intense for me.

Just notice the sensations in your G-spot and any pleasure you might be feeling. If you find this distracting rather than arousing, don’t despair; you can try again a week or a month from now when your G-spot will likely be more sensitive.

Try to reach orgasm at this point (if orgasm is a normal part of your masturbation sessions, and if you want to, that is). That way you can move onto the next step…

Try post-orgasm G-spot stimulation. The G-spot swells up during arousal, so it may reach its peak sensitivity right before or right after orgasm, when you’re most physically aroused. Experiment with different kinds of thrusts – hard and fast, slow and smooth, rocking back and forth, jagging in and out – and see if anything feels good.

After going through this process several times over the course of a few weeks or more, you may find that your body has started to make connections between G-spot sensations and sexual pleasure. Some people have this connection right off the bat, but some don’t, so this process is a good option if you need help sensitizing your G-spot.

Don’t get discouraged if you still can’t reach orgasm from G-spot stimulation alone. Most women can’t. Pleasure is pleasure, so as long as you’re enjoying yourself, you’re golden. Orgasms can happen in all sorts of ways, so there’s no reason to bully yourself into making it happen in one specific way.

More experienced readers: how did you “wake up” your G-spot?

Sharing the Sexy #28

• Here’s a wonderful piece on Sophia Wallace’s Cliteracy project.

• Apparently they cast the lead actors for the Fifty Shades film adaptation. I am confused about why they chose that dude to play Christian, but I’ll give him the benefit of the doubt til I see the movie!

High school can suck for queer kids. Keep yo’ head up!

• We-Vibe won the legal battle, so Lelo can’t sell the Tiani in the US and Canada anymore! I’m glad I already have one, I guess…

How to ask a trans* person about hormones and surgery without being a dick about it.

An eloquent response to that shitty girl-shaming mom-blogger post that’s been circling the interwebs this week.

Review: Lelo Gigi 2

Lelo really cares about making excellent products. Some companies churn out crappy toy after crappy toy, seeking only to pad their bottom line and not to make anyone really happy in the pants – but others, like Lelo, give a shit. They want to contribute something meaningful to the sex toy industry.

That’s why Lelo has been gradually producing updated versions of their best-selling toys for a while now. Usually their updates make only two big changes – more power, and waterproof – but those two changes make all the difference, and can take a toy from “okay” to “excellent.”

The Gigi 2 is a great example of this. I tried the original Gigi and didn’t like it much; my review complained, “Gigi feels weak and buzzy… If you’re looking for power, this toy will disappoint you.”

If you need a primer on the difference between buzzy and rumbly when it comes to vibrators, I welcome you to read Epiphora’s thoughts on it. To sum up: buzzy vibes feel surface-level and can lead to fast numbness, while rumbly vibes shake the entire internal clitoris and therefore lead to stronger, deeper orgasms for many folks – myself included.

This is important info to understand when you’re talking about the Gigi and its update, because the difference between the two – at least as far as my clit can tell – is more about vibration quality than vibration strength. Pressed against my hand or held up to my ear, I can barely tell the difference between them – but one gives me orgasms, and the other doesn’t.

Gigi 2 is the same as its predecessor in terms of shape and size. Gigi is one of Lelo’s all-time best-selling toys so it makes sense that they wouldn’t want to mess with a functional formula. My new Gigi has a white ring around the button panel that was grey on the old one, and it doesn’t have a little piece of silicone covering the charging port like the old one did, because Gigi 2 is waterproof. Other than that, they look identical (though I did choose a different color for my Gigi 2, to avoid confusion!).

It continues to make me feel weird that there is no silicone covering over the charging port. I know the toy is waterproof – I have even taken my Gigi 2 into the bath and had orgasms there without issue – but it is still strange to see water traveling into a hole on my expensive sex toy. Doesn’t mess with my overall enjoyment of the toy, really; just weirds me out. I might prefer a little slit that you pierce with the charger when the toy needs some juice, like what’s on Leaf toys.

The other issue with taking Gigi in the bath is that the smooth plastic handle gets very slippery when wet. Whether it’s water, bodily fluids, or lube, this can be a problem. You might want to keep a towel or washcloth handy. Or Lelo might want to think about making their handles grippier.

A problem I have with many Lelo toys, which seems (but maybe isn’t actually) more prominent on the Gigi 2, is the way you have to press the buttons to get them to work. Apparently in attempt to fix reviewers’ past complaints about pressing buttons by accident while maneuvering the toy, newer Lelo vibes’ buttons need a good, solid press before they’ll respond. When I push a button for a shorter length of time – say, half a second instead of the full second – the control panel still lights up momentarily like it usually does, but the setting doesn’t change. I have to press it again, properly. And while I’m sure there are people who appreciate this feature, I mostly just get annoyed by it. When I change my vibrator’s settings, I’m often on the brink of orgasm, needing just a little more power – and a failed button-press can mess that up for me.

Other than that issue, I really enjoy Gigi 2 as a clit vibe. The handle is comfortable to hold, my clit loves the flat, broad-but-not-too-broad head of the toy, and it has enough power to get me off.

Sometimes I get up to the highest setting and wish there was just one or two more beyond that – just a little more power. But the vibrations are fairly rumbly (at least, rumblier than older Lelo toys) so I will eventually have an orgasm if I keep at it. I won’t just go numb and have to stop.

As a G-spot toy, Gigi doesn’t do much for me and never has. It’s too short to reach my G-spot without me having to awkwardly grasp it by the very end of the handle. It’s also just not strong enough to please my G-spot, which feels very buried in my vaginal wall and so needs a lot of vibration. Something like the Fun Factory Patchy Paul, with its insanely strong and low-pitched motor. Gigi just feels like gentle buzzing inside my vagina, and it doesn’t even really find the right spot most of the time.

Someone wanting better G-spot stimulation in a Lelo toy should look at the Mona 2. I find Mona’s shape and size – especially its length – waaaay superior to the Gigi when trying to locate my G-spot.

That said, I do hope Lelo eventually comes out with a super-curved G-spot toy – something like the Jopen Comet II, but with that classic Lelo elegance. I think they could knock it out of the park.

I’m overall pretty pleased with my Gigi 2. It’s become one of my go-to clit vibes, even though that’s not what it’s designed for. It’s versatile, and small enough to slip into a purse or maybe a pocket. But if you want real G-spot stimulation, spend a little more and get the Mona; it’ll do a better job.

Thanks so much to the wonderful people at Lelo for sending me this toy to try out!

Bisexuality FAQ

I’m bisexual. People have opinions about it. People also have questions – a lot of questions, some of them pretty idiotic, some perfectly valid. Here are the questions I get most often about my sexual identity…

Which do you prefer, cock or pussy?

Well, first of all, that’s a super rude question. Other than queer folks, trans folks, and maybe some disabled folks, I don’t know anyone who routinely gets asked personal questions about their sex lives and genitals by total strangers. It’s grossly inappropriate. If you really want to know which I “prefer,” you should get to know me better and be more tactful about the way you ask.

Secondly, the whole premise of this question is really kind of stupid. I don’t choose lovers based on what genitalia they have. Yeah, that’s something I think about as we’re getting to know each other (“This person has a penis; guess I better start thinking about birth control!” or “This person has a vagina; I wonder if she would like to do some strap-on play when we get to that point!”), but it’s not an initial consideration. I don’t think to myself, “Okay, I’m attracted to this woman and also to this man, but I can’t make up my mind… Whose genitals do I prefer?” I fall in love with and become attracted to people as individuals.

Who gives better head/is better at sex, guys or girls?

I’ve put this question here because its answer is sort of a continuation of the last answer. Guess what? People are individuals; they can’t be generalized by their genders.

Personally, my current male partner is the best I’ve ever had, but that doesn’t mean that men overall are better at sex. Some men are good at sex, some are bad, some are in between; same deal with women. A good partner (communicative, enthusiastic, generous, adventurous) is going to be a good partner regardless of their gender or genitals; same deal with a bad partner (selfish, boring, uncommunicative).

Are you really a lesbian?

Nope. I’ve been attracted to men.

Are you really straight?

Nope. I’ve been attracted to women.

If the only women you’re attracted to are butch/androgynous ones, why don’t you just date men? Isn’t it basically the same thing?

Uh, no. See above re: people being individuals and not being reducible to their genders or genitals.

Imagine this: you’re in a very happy relationship with a woman who happens to dye her hair red. I say to you, “If you like redheads so much, why don’t you just date a natural redhead instead?” You explain to me that you like your girlfriend, not just her hair color – and you love her as an individual, not for her particular traits.

Well, exactly. I become attracted to butch women not because I’m specifically seeking out masculinity but because those are just the kinds of people I can be attracted to, so I sometimes find myself drawn to an individual person within that group. For her totality as a person. Not just for her butchness.

So do you cheat on your partners?/Are you capable of being monogamous?

I’m currently in a “monogamish” relationship (our arrangement is that we are allowed to flirt with and kiss other people, but no more than that). I don’t think of myself as being naturally monogamous and I would to explore consensual non-monogamy more in my future relationships.

However, this has absolutely nothing to do with my sexual orientation. Monogamousness and sexual orientation are separate – many straight people are not naturally monogamous, just as many queer people want to share their love and sex with only one person at a time. The two have nothing to do with each other, though non-monogamy is likelier to be openly acknowledged and accepted in queer communities than in straight ones, because queer people are already transgressing conventional social standards just by being queer so they are (usually) more okay with pushing the envelope in their relationships.

Just because I can be happy with both men and women doesn’t mean that I need to be with both men and women at one time. I’ve met countless bisexuals in my life and I’ve only ever met one who felt that she needed to be having sex with both men and women in order to be satisfied – and again, that has more to do with her proclivity toward non-monogamy than it has to do with her sexual orientation.

Why do you sometimes describe yourself as “queer”? Isn’t that an offensive term?

It has been used as an offensive term for a long time, and some people still find it offensive, yes. However, similar to “dyke” and “fag,” it has been reclaimed by many folks as a positive descriptor. Generally, if you use the word “queer” within an LGBT space, no one will bat an eye.

When I use the word, I am using it as an umbrella term to mean basically anything that isn’t straight – so it may include people who are gay, lesbian, bisexual, pansexual, questioning, heteroflexible, and label-free. Some people also put trans and genderqueer people into the category of “queer,” though I see gender identity as being a separate struggle from sexual orientation so I define them separately.

When describing my sexual orientation, I usually use the word “bisexual” in straight spaces, because almost everyone knows what it means, but I usually use the word “queer” in LGBT spaces because it’s more inclusive of all my attractions – and also because there is sometimes some biphobia in gay and lesbian spaces, so it’s sometimes best to avoid identifying myself as bi if I want to be taken seriously. (It’s a sad truth!)

Why do you call yourself “bisexual” instead of “pansexual”? Isn’t “bisexual” a cissexist term?

Yes, some people believe that the term “bisexual” is cissexist because it only acknowledges a binary of gender – i.e. two genders, male and female. I understand, appreciate, and accept that criticism.

However, in my case, “bisexual” is apt because 99.9% of my attractions are to people who fall into one of two specific gender categories – men (cis or trans) and butch/androgynous women. My attractions still fall into a binary, even though it’s not the conventional gender binary, so the term “bisexual” fits me.

The term “pansexual” suggests that I can be attracted to any type of person, regardless of their gender presentation, which isn’t true for me.

How did you know you were bisexual?

I had suspected it since I was about 11, because I found women’s bodies just as intriguing as men’s bodies in movies and porn clips (um, I was a precocious child).

When I was 15, a girl in one of my classes began to flirt with me – or at least, I perceived it as flirting – and I found myself feeling receptive to that, rather than repulsed by it. Nothing came from that, but later that year, I developed a huge crush on another girl who ended up becoming my first girlfriend.

When you eventually settle down, do you think it’ll be with a man or a woman?

Again, this has to do much more with a person’s individual characteristics than it does with their gender. There are certain traits that I would require in a partner if we were going to have a decades-long relationship, and gender wouldn’t be a factor for me as long as the person had those traits.

I don’t plan on having biological children, and same-sex marriage is legal where I live, so neither of those things will factor into it either.

Why do you have to put a label on yourself? Why can’t you just like who you like?

Some people can do that. Me, I need organization and definitions in order to feel secure. I like having a neat, crisp little word to be able to throw out there when someone asks me about my sexual orientation. It suits my needs. I respect people who can reject all labels, but it’s not for me.

Are you down for a threesome?

Um. Not really. I would have to be attracted to both of the people involved and they would have to both be attracted to me, or I wouldn’t have fun – and that’s unlikely.

Plus, please, for the love of all things sexy and holy, don’t assume that bisexuality automatically equals promiscuity or being cool with anything. Some bi folks are like that but not all.

Sometimes I see a girl who I think is pretty… Does that mean I’m bi too?

Probably not. Do you find yourself wanting to make out with her? Have sex with her? Hold her hand? Go on cute dates together? Refer to her as your girlfriend? If none of those ideas stir up any feelings in you, you’re probably not bi. It’s one thing to appreciate someone’s aesthetics, but it’s quite another thing to actually want some kind of relationship with them.

Does your boyfriend think it’s hot that you’re bi?

If he did, I don’t know if I’d still be with him. Fetishizing someone’s sexual orientation is pretty gross.

He understands and accepts that my bisexuality is a part of who I am. He’s not interested in threesomes or watching me with another woman, so he doesn’t find it sexually exciting; it’s just a fact about me.