Announcing the Secret Project I’ve Been Working On For a YEAR…!

Art by Addison Finch

About a year and a half ago, I met via Zoom with some folks at Vibratex, the current distributor of the famed Magic Wand (sometimes known more colloquially as “the Hitachi Magic Wand” or just “the Hitachi,” although Hitachi’s name is no longer on the toy). The company had seen my tattoo of their product, and the many GQ articles in which I declare my love for the Wand, and they wanted to chat about how we could collaborate. Needless to say, I was intrigued!

See, back when I was in journalism school in 2015, I spent a whole semester researching and writing a longform feature article on the Magic Wand. I had been reviewing sex toys on this blog for about three years at that point – not long, but long enough to know that the Magic Wand was probably the best-known vibrator in the world, and was certainly the vibrator with the longest and richest history, having been around since 1968.

I don’t recall what grade I got on that article, but I do recall that at one point, one of my interviewees said to me, “There could be a whole book about this – and you should be the person to write it!” At that time, I hadn’t seriously considered writing a book on anything, but the Magic Wand seemed as good a subject as any. I filed away that idea for the future, hoping it’d come to fruition someday.

When I connected with Vibratex eight years later, that’s what I pitched them as our potential collaboration: a book about the history and impact of the Wand. And while I definitely still think there’s a book’s worth of stories to tell about it, we tweaked the idea during our discussions, and landed on doing it as a podcast miniseries instead. That way, I could incorporate the voices of many different experts and laypeople, telling their Wand stories in their own words.

Sipping a Magic Wand-themed cocktail at last night’s Magic Wand-themed event at the Museum of Sex

So, for about a year now, I’ve been interviewing people about the Magic Wand, researching its history, thinking deeply about it, combing through interview transcripts, and piecing them together into episodes. The result is my new podcast miniseries, Making Magic: How the Magic Wand Became the World’s Most Famous Vibrator, which is launching wherever you get your podcasts on May 30th, 2024. There’s a trailer available now, if you’d like a little taste of what’s to come!

I’m so, so excited for people to hear this series. There’s an episode about the legendary sex educator who made the Magic Wand famous in her all-nude masturbation workshops; there’s an episode about the trailblazers who started the first feminist sex shops and kicked off a movement of women reclaiming their own bodies and pleasure; there are episodes about why the Wand is so important to so many queer people, trans people, and people with disabilities or mental illness; there are episodes about its ubiquity in porn, kink, and art.

I interviewed sex-positive superheroes like Carol Queen and Tristan Taormino, porn dynamos like Stoya and Ava LaPrima, sex history buffs like Hallie Lieberman and Lynn Comella, industry icons like Shay Martin and Andy Duran, kink geniuses like Danarama and Billy Lore, pervy intellectuals like Tina Horn and Sinclair Sexsmith, and badass academics like Laurie Mintz and Debby Herbenick, just to name a few. It’s been a hell of a process, and I’ve been so lucky to get to have so many fascinating conversations with such clever and wise folks.

Making Magic is edited and co-produced by Jamie Pityinger, and made possible by the generous support of Vibratex, with art by Addison Finch. I really hope you’ll tune in when the first episode launches on May 30th. If we’re not available in your podcast app of choice just yet, you can paste this RSS feed into your app and subscribe that way:

https://feeds.captivate.fm/making-magic/

It’s an honor to have gotten to work on this project, and I can’t wait for y’all to hear it!

Review: reMarkable 2

I usually review sex toys, but today I’m gonna review a piece of technology that doesn’t go inside me…!

Last month, for my birthday, my partner gave me a reMarkable Essentials Bundle, which contains the reMarkable 2 paper tablet, a black leather folio-style cover for it, and the Marker Plus stylus. I have adored using these products in the ~month that I’ve had them, so I wanted to review ’em here.

 

What is the reMarkable 2?

The reMarkable is a tablet, meant to be used primarily for writing (although you can read stuff on it, too). With the included stylus/pen, you can write directly on the surface of the tablet, and it looks and feels like you’re actually writing on paper. (You can also get a keyboard case for it, if you prefer to type, but I like writing by hand when I can.)

The reMarkable uses E-Ink (electronic ink) technology, like most e-readers, including my beloved Kindle – which means that it consumes much less power than something like an iPad, and causes significantly less eye strain. Looking at an E-Ink screen is basically like looking at the page of a book (or, in this case, a notebook).

A peek at my computer screen when I was working on my Arosum strap-on review – I had the reMarkable app open and was referring to the notes I’d taken during my testing sessions

What do I use the reMarkable for?

In the past, I’ve considered buying myself a portable typing machine, like the Freewrite Traveler, because I liked the idea of distraction-free writing. Although it’s convenient to write blog posts/articles/newsletters directly on my laptop or phone, I get sidetracked by notifications all too often. Even disconnecting my internet and setting my devices to “do not disturb” doesn’t always work, because temptation is high and my willpower is low.

As intriguing as the Freewrite devices are, the author Meg Elison said that it somehow lost a 4,000-word draft of hers, which is just… deeply not okay. There’s no way you can relax into the flow of creativity if you’re constantly panicked about the possibility of your work disappearing into the ether. So, while the limited-edition lemon-yellow Freewrite is the cutest thing I’ve ever seen, I’d be hesitant to buy one.

The reMarkable is based on similar principles but is mostly about longhand writing, not typing. Although I do a lot of typing in my day-to-day life, I love writing by hand, and often find that it helps me think more clearly and remember things better (a finding which is backed up by science).

A sampling of things I’ve used the reMarkable for, since getting it:

  • Drafting essays for my newsletter
  • Drafting fanfic chapters
  • Taking notes for reviews while testing sex toys
  • Making packing lists and shopping lists
  • Brainstorming plot points and character details for a novel
  • Taking notes on books and articles I read
  • Doing morning pages
  • Writing lyrics and chord progressions for songs
  • Taking notes during conversations/meetings/interviews

 

Things I love about the reMarkable

  • Writing on this thing actually feels like writing on paper. There’s a subtle scratchiness to the texture, some tactile feedback that you just don’t get when you’re writing on, say, an iPad screen with a stylus or your fingertip.
  • Likewise, the E-Ink display means that it looks like paper, so I don’t get eye strain the way I would if I was hunched over a draft on my laptop for hours. There’s almost no glare from sunlight/lamps/etc.
  • The distraction-free nature of the reMarkable makes a significant impact on how quickly and easily I’m able to get into flow state when writing on it, which ultimately makes my writing better and more enjoyable. The device has internet access, but only uses it for syncing documents. Hallelujah.
  • There’s a feature which allows you to convert handwritten text into typed text, and then export it in various ways, so that you can paste it into whatever you’re using it for (like, say, a blog post reviewing the reMarkable!). My handwriting isn’t super messy but also isn’t always the most clear, and I still find that the reMarkable does a pretty good job of transcribing it, with the exception of sex-related words (see the “things I don’t love” section below for more on that). I usually only have to do minimal editing and formatting before publishing.
  • The pen/stylus is comfortable to hold, attaches magnetically to the side of the device, and is sensitive to pressure and angle, which makes it just as suitable for drawing or calligraphy as it is for writing. There are several different writing implement options you can select on the device; I usually stick with a simple black ballpoint, but you can use different ink shades, and there’s fineliners, pencils, a paintbrush, a calligraphy pen, etc. There’s also an “eraser” on the back of the pen; you can swipe it over segments of writing to delete them.
  • There’s a fantastic selection of page templates you can use, including blank, lined, dotted, grids, checklists, day/week planner spreads, sheet music, etc., each with several variations to choose from. I tend to use blank pages for creative tasks that require loose, expansive thinking, like brainstorming and songwriting, and then I’ll switch to a lined template for essays and articles. Each page of each document can use its own template, too, which is great for bigger projects where I might want to swap back and forth between brainstorming and writing, all within the same document.
  • You can use the select tool to grab text and move it around on the page. I love this feature because I tend to do a lot of editing and reordering while I’m writing, which makes it difficult for me to draft longhand – unless I can manipulate the text like I can on the reMarkable.
  • The reMarkable has a “layers” functionality, like Photoshop. At first, I wasn’t sure what I would use this for, but I’ve found it helpful when making packing lists or other checklists. The list itself goes on the bottommost layer, and then I create another layer on which I check things off. That way, if I need to re-use the list again later (like when packing for my return trip), I can delete the top layer and the checklist will be blanked out, ready to be used again.
  • The organizational system of the reMarkable is simple but effective. It’s easy to use, easy to understand, and easy to find things. Each document is called a “notebook.” Notebooks can be organized into folders, and you can also assign tags to your notebooks to organize them even more. I have a folder for my blog, a folder for newsletters, a folder for songs, etc. On that note, the overall interface of the reMarkable is really simple and pared-down – it’s got the features you need, and very little else, which (again) helps me stay focused on writing.
  • By default, there’s a catch-all notebook called “Quick Sheets,” which is indeed fantastic for when you just need to take a quick note and don’t want to spend the ~20 seconds it takes to create a new notebook, name it, and pick its template. Just tap the Quick Sheets button at the top of the screen and you’ll be taken to a fresh page in the Quick Sheets document. I find this especially useful for creative tasks, because artistic ideas can be very fleeting and so it’s crucial to have tools that can record them quickly.
  • Much like an iPad, the reMarkable allows for swiping and pinching gestures. You can swipe to turn the page, for example, and pinch to zoom out. The device doesn’t respond as smoothly or predictably to these gestures as an iPad or iPhone does, but I wouldn’t really expect it to; that’s the nature of E-Ink.
  • The device has 8 GB of internal storage, which is a lot, for the type of documents it creates. You also get a free year-long subscription to reMarkable’s Connect service when you buy the tablet, which gives you unlimited cloud storage, so you can keep all your documents, not just the ones that fit on the device.
  • Speaking of Connect, it’s a well-implemented cloud service that (in my experience) syncs effortlessly across devices. I love being able to open the reMarkable app on my phone, iPad, or computer and see all the notes I’ve made; it’s super convenient and means that I don’t have to bring the tablet with me everywhere to refer to what’s on it. That being said, if you don’t want to pay reMarkable the (very reasonable) $2.99/month subscription fee after your first year runs out, you can sync via Google Drive, Dropbox, or OneDrive instead.
  • As someone with chronic pain in my arms and hands (not to mention every other part of my body), I often find that writing on the reMarkable is more comfortable/less painful than writing in a real notebook, largely because the stylus requires less pressure so I don’t have to grip it as firmly or press it against the page as hard.
  • The reMarkable is less conspicuous in public than something like the Freewrite, which can garner a lot of stares and questions from strangers, according to Meg Elison. The reMarkable mostly just looks to a casual observer like you’re writing on paper.
  • The battery life is wonderful, as is common for E-Ink devices. I generally need to charge it every 1-2 weeks, depending on how much I’ve been using it. I’ve never had it die while I was out somewhere using it; the battery indicator gives you plenty of warning. I also love that it charges via USB-C, because that’s the same type of cable I use to charge my computer, Kindle, and Switch, so I’ve always got one nearby.

 

Things I don’t love about the reMarkable

  • My most common annoyance with the reMarkable is the way its convert-to-text function handles sex-related words. Much like the autocorrect feature on my iPhone, reMarkable’s text conversion feature gets most words right, but struggles with words like “sex,” “dick,” “fuck,” etc. Just today I imported a newsletter on sex toys and the reMarkable had exclusively transcribed the term as “sec toys,” “see toys,” or “set toys.” This type of verbal filtering would probably be helpful for most users – on the iPhone, I’m sure it’s prevented millions of people from accidentally texting a lewd autocorrected message they didn’t intend – but for people like me, who write sexy stuff, these corrections feel like puritanical censorship, and can make the editing process much more cumbersome.
  • It’s pretty damn expensive, especially if you consider that the iPad isn’t that much pricier but can do a lot more. The Starter Bundle, which comes with just the tablet, the stylus, and a 1-year subscription to the reMarkable’s cloud service, is $449, whereas the fancier Essentials Bundle (which comes with the same stuff + the folio case) is $599. If you want the keyboard case, that’s another $199. You’ll need to replace the stylus’s tip every so often (the company suggests replacing it every 3 to 7 weeks if you use the device every day, which I don’t), but it comes with 9 spare tips; after that, you can order a 25-pack for $39. In addition to all that, reMarkable’s cloud service, Connect, costs $2.99 per month, but you get a free year with your tablet purchase. Needless to say, this all adds up, and I probably never would’ve bought this device for myself unless I had a sudden, unexpected financial windfall, even though I think it’s an excellent invention that justifies its steep price tag.
  • I wish that the device would wake from sleep automatically when you open the folio cover, the way my Kindle does. It’s minorly irritating to have to press the power button every time.
  • It’s a bit odd that the reMarkable offers different ink colors, like blue and red, despite the fact that it doesn’t actually display these colors (it only displays shades of black and grey). You’ll see the colors rendered properly if you view your documents in the reMarkable app on your phone/iPad/computer, but not on the device itself, which is sort of confusing.
  • There’s no backlight. This is mostly a pro, not a con, because this device is supposed to be more paper-like than tablet-like, and the lack o’ backlight dramatically improves the device’s battery life and cuts down on eye strain – but, of course, it means that you can’t easily use this device in low lighting.
  • As an iPad mini user with petite hands, I sometimes wish the reMarkable was smaller, or at least that there was a smaller version available. Currently it’s 9.7″ by 7.4″, which sometimes feels awkwardly large to me when I’m writing on it (especially in bed/on my lap), and doesn’t fit in my small-to-medium-sized purses. But I’m sure most people would love this size, and there are many times when I’m grateful it’s this big because it gives me so much room to write and draw.
  • I wish there was a more secure way of storing the stylus. The magnet on the side of the device is pretty strong, but I’ve had the stylus get knocked off of it a couple times just from me rifling around in my purse, and I’d hate to misplace it, since a replacement would cost $139 (!!). Some kind of pocket or pen loop would be awesome.
  • The “eraser” on the back end of the stylus is a super useful touch, but I often find it’s less precise than I’d prefer. I usually end up erasing some surrounding stuff that I wasn’t intending to erase.
  • The reMarkable is not waterproof – which, I mean, I wouldn’t really expect it to be, but the Kindle is, and it would be nice to someday have a device that allows me to write in the bath without risking ruining a notebook or expensive gadget.

 

Final thoughts

The reMarkable 2 is expensive and excessive, but I am obsessed with it. It makes writing feel more joyful, more absorbing, and more comfortable. It gives me most of the benefits of writing by hand, and most of the benefits of writing digitally, with almost none of the drawbacks usually found in both of those options.

If you love writing by hand, but you find it impractical because you always need to type up what you’ve written afterward, or because you like to do the kind of heavy editing that pen and paper don’t allow for, you’d probably love the reMarkable. If you want to spend more time writing and less time checking your social media and getting distracted by your texts, you’d probably love the reMarkable. If you want a device that can take notes anywhere, and sync them everywhere, you’d probably love the reMarkable.

I’ve taken it to the park to draft smutty fanfic scenes in the sunshine. I’ve scribbled sex toy missives on it at the airport. I’ve kept it beside me in bed, ready to be grabbed at a moment’s notice when I have a sudden idea I need to get down. I love this thing. It has made writing feel fun and easy again, and that’s pretty damn remarkable.

 

This post wasn’t sponsored, I’m just a dork who loves good writing tools.

How to Connect with Other Kinksters on Dating Apps

One of the hardest things about being kinky (IMO) is meeting people you’re compatible with. Kinky interests tend to narrow your dating pool, especially kinks that are unusual or highly specific. It’s already hard enough to meet someone you get along with on a personality level – factor in the added complexity of sex and kink, and dating can be an intimidating task.

But there is hope! You can infuse a bit o’ kink into your early interactions with dating app matches, to get a sense of whether you’ll be a good fit. Here are some tips on how to do just that…

 

Image via Flure

Pick the right app

Certain dating apps attract kinkier demographics than others – which can, of course, affect how many cute perverts you’re able to connect with. You could try asking your local kinky friends what they’ve used, or you could check out an app that specifically aims to be sex-positive and kink-friendly, like Flure. Other kinksters are out there, hoping to find people like you – you just have to know where to look for them!

 

Put it in your bio

Okay, admittedly, not everyone reads bios. (This is one of my top complaints about dating apps, honestly!) But for those who do, you can leave a cute little clue about your kinks in there – or just straight-up say what you’re into, if that’s more your style.

I’ve gone back and forth over the years about how much detail to include. At times, I’ve simply described myself as kinky, or even just included a kink-adjacent photo amongst my other pictures – like me in a leather chest harness, or me wearing a 101 Kinky Things snapback hat.

At other times, though, I’ve mentioned specific kinks, e.g. that I’m submissive or that I’m into being spanked. Being explicit about sexual desires can lead people to assume you’re DTF right out of the gate, though – and I’m not, due to being demisexual – which is why I often end up deleting these kink disclosures not long after adding them in…

Image via Flure

Play a game

I used to like to play questions-based games with matches on apps sometimes, like “Let’s alternate asking each other questions about our lives,” or “What are your top 3 favorite ____ and why?” These conversations can be illuminating and fun, and also give you an opportunity to ask about the things you’re really curious about, like kink. Of course, you should ideally ease into this kind of thing; many people are put off by someone suddenly taking the conversation in a more sexual direction without building enough rapport first.

The Flure app has a built-in game called Sparks; it’s a chat-based icebreaker game that helps you and your matches get to know each other better. I love to see dating apps incorporating features that make dating more fun; it doesn’t have to be a slog! It can feel like play, and I think the best connections arise from that headspace anyway.

 

Test the waters with sexts

Okay, I’m not an expert on this one, because I don’t really like sexting with people I haven’t already established in-person chemistry with. (There’s that pesky demisexuality again!) It can make me feel uncomfortable, objectified, and pressured – which, by the way, is why I think it’s awesome that the Flure app has a “Safe Mode” where you’re prevented from seeing any explicit messages/photos someone else might send.

That being said – I know a lot of people do like to sext with strangers, or may at least want to exchange a few dirty texts prior to meeting, to feel out the vibe. If the rapport is there and things head in that direction, it could be the perfect moment to float your kink(s). “You’ve got a great ass – do you like having it spanked?” “Can’t stop thinking about you being on top of me, holding me down so I can’t move.” “Can I massage your feet before I go down on you?”

If the other person is amenable, fantastic! If not, well, at least you know now, and not three dates in.

 

Take good care of yourself if things go south

Dating and hooking up are always risky and vulnerable to some degree, but they can be especially so for people whose sexuality veers from the beaten path. When you tell someone you’re kinky – or even just hint at it – you are risking getting rejected, mocked, or flat-out ghosted. It’s just a fact of life, unfortunately.

But the good news is that dating apps make it easier to screen out the people who would do these things before you actually meet in-person, which can help keep you safer (physically and emotionally) when you make these kinds of disclosures. Dating is a numbers game, and the more people you filter out of your dating pool due to incompatibility, the closer you’ll get to finding the person/people you are compatible with.

That being said, it is totally okay to feel bummed out when someone reacts poorly to you sharing such an intimate part of yourself with them. Let yourself feel those feelings, and take care of yourself throughout that process as best you can – whether that means ordering delivery from your favorite restaurant, watching five episodes in a row of your favorite comfort sitcom, or complaining to your friend over the phone about how much kink-shamers suck. It’ll be okay. Eventually, this too shall pass, and you’ll be ready to get back on that horse – or back on that St. Andrew’s cross, as the case may be.

 

What tips have you found most helpful in connecting with other kinksters on dating apps?

 

This post was sponsored by the lovely folks at the Flure dating app! They’re all about prioritizing your comfort, safety, and freedom to explore your sexuality – check ’em out! As always, all writing and opinions are my own.

The Internet: A Haven for Fetishists & Sex Nerds

This quote is about the universe, not the internet, but it feels like you could replace one word with the other and it would be just as true:

“In the beginning, the Universe was created. This has made a lot of people very angry and been widely regarded as a bad move.”

-Douglas Adams, The Restaurant at the End of the Universe

Was the internet a bad idea? Did it make every human impulse worse? Is it speeding us toward our doom, entwining us in a web of capitalism and fascism that we’ll never escape? I don’t know.

But what I do know is, the internet has allowed sexual weirdos to connect with other sexual weirdos around the world, and I think that’s a goddamn beautiful thing.

“What did you all do before the Internet?” I asked a woman in an online forum.

“The brave ones looked for personal ads,” she replied. “The rest of us were lonely.”

-Jillian Keenan writing about the spanking fetish community

I truly believe that sexual shame is an evil force, largely created to control the masses. And like many forms of evil, shame grows best in darkness. We are most prone to sexual shame when we are disconnected from other people, or when we feel unable to discuss our true sexuality with the people we are connected to.

In that way, the internet can be a wonderful balm for those of us who’ve grown up with secret kinks rattling around in the backs of our brains. If you’d had a foot fetish all your life, for instance, but had never heard anyone talk about feet IRL as anything other than a practical (or perhaps gross) body part, I can imagine it would feel deeply freeing to log on and discover foot fetish porn sites, foot fetish erotica, and articles with titles like “how to sell feet pics” and “how to give an erotic pedicure.” The whole world would open up to you, before your very eyes. And hopefully, as part of that process, some shame would lift, all because you found out that some other people feel the same way you do.

I didn’t grow up with fetishes per se, so this isn’t an experience I had – but on a related note, I’d been interested in sexuality on a nerdy level for as long as I’d known it existed, and it blew my mind to discover that there were other sex nerds on the internet. Even at a time when I barely felt comfortable admitting to my best friend that I masturbated, I could read sex forums and listen to sex podcasts, where (sometimes) level-headed adults would discuss such topics as “how to negotiate a threesome” or “how to be a good kisser” or, indeed, “where do fetishes come from?” It bolstered my nerdy little heart to know that I wasn’t the only freak reading encyclopedia entries about famous sadomasochists or scientific abstracts about clitoral bloodflow.

Obviously, with this personal history in mind, it’s troubling for me to see how the pendulum of sexual shame has, in many ways, swung back the other direction now. These days, the internet is just as likely to instill sexual shame as it is to alleviate it, what with all the zillions of social media posts and forum threads falsely asserting that queer and trans people are “groomers,” or that sex work is inherently degrading, or that having a consensual non-consent fantasy means you’re psychologically broken. It’s almost impossible to avoid developing sexual shame of some kind, in a world that’s still so hellbent on propagating sexual puritanism.

It’s hard to know what the solution is, or whether there even is one. I don’t think it’ll be possible to cure the world of sexual conservatism entirely, at least not in my lifetime. But in the meantime, I think it does a lot of good to build community with other sexual weirdos of various kinds, and to model sexual self-compassion. I’ve heard from many people that my public openness about my kinks helped them feel more comfortable with their own. It’s an honor to be what the empathy educator Kate Kenfield calls a “beacon of permission” for people to be themselves, and it’s also a huge responsibility I have to take seriously. My sexual shame or lack thereof is no longer just a personal issue; it can affect how others view their own sexuality, because I have a platform and some influence.

So, while the internet hasn’t turned out to be the shame-free sexual utopia I dreamed it might be when I first got online, I think there are pockets here and there that feel utopia-adjacent. It’s up to us to keep building the world we want to see.

 

This post contains a sponsored link. As always, all writing and opinions are my own.

Review: Arosum QueerBind harness & FlexDong dildo

I don’t wear a strap-on all that often, but when I do, I want it to look hot and feel good, for both me and the person I’m fucking. I’ve tried a few different strap-on setups in my life, and tend to stick to what I know – but I was intrigued when sex toy company Arosum asked if they could send me their QueerBind lace-embellished harness and FlexDong vibrating dildo to review. A new harness or dildo can change your strap game entirely, so I was excited to give ’em a shot!

 

Things I like about the QueerBind harness

  • It’s very adjustable, fitting hips from 26″ to 57″ around. My hip measurement is right in the middle of that range, at 42″, so this fit me just fine.
  • Getting into the harness, and adjusting it to fit, is quick and easy compared to some of the more complex designs I’ve tried. The harness also came pre-assembled right out of the box, so I was able to get started with it immediately upon opening it.
  • It comes with 2 different-sized O-rings (1.19″ and 1.57″ in diameter, respectively), which gives you a lot of leeway in what sizes of dildo you can pair with it. You could also swap out these O-rings for some that are even smaller or larger if need be, though you’ll have to buy those separately (I’d recommend the Tantus O-ring set).
  • The nylon straps have basically no stretch, which means that once the harness has been adjusted to fit, it’s pretty stable. The dildo doesn’t bounce around chaotically, the way it sometimes does with harnesses made of stretchy materials, so I get more control when thrusting.
  • The front and back sections of the harness offer a little bit of spongey cushioning, which I found helpful when thrusting. I didn’t have as much pelvic discomfort after using this harness, because the dildo wasn’t able to directly mash into my mons/vulva due to that cushioning.
  • I like the lacy, boudoir-y aesthetic, including the corset-inspired lacing in the back. It won’t be to everyone’s taste, of course, but I appreciate that it’s cute and decorative without sacrificing practicality.
  • Depending on how I adjust the straps and the front part, I can get a decent amount of vulva access, which would allow me to do things like hold a wand vibrator on my clit, or ride a dildo, while fucking my partner. However, I was also able to adjust the harness in such a way that the dildo sits closer to my clit, which allows me to get some clit stim on each thrust – probably not enough to get me off, but then, I’ve never gotten off while strap-on topping.
  • It only costs $37.95! My previous favorite budget harness pick, the briefs-style one from RodeoH, will typically run you $50-60, so I appreciate that the QueerBind is cheaper and nonetheless works really well.

 

Things I don’t like about the QueerBind harness

  • There’s not an easy way to wedge a vibrator into the harness, so that the wearer can enjoy the vibrations while thrusting. A lot of harnesses have a small pocket or sleeve for this purpose, but this one lacks such a feature, and I’d worry about trying to jam a bullet vibe behind the dildo, as it likely wouldn’t stay put for very long, but YMMV. (The FlexDong dildo vibrates, but its vibrations are concentrated in the head, not the base, so the wearer doesn’t feel much.)
  • Naturally, the nylon and polyester material of this harness don’t feel as sexy and smooth as something like leather, but I wouldn’t expect a high-end feel at this price point. I sometimes found that the nylon straps dug into the soft bits of my hips after a while, but it wasn’t that bothersome.
  • I would recommend changing out the O-ring while you’re not wearing the harness. The waist straps of the harness go through slits in the front part of the harness and snap directly onto the O-ring, so whenever I tried to change the O-ring while wearing the harness, the whole thing fell apart on me and had to be reassembled 😂

 

Things I like about the FlexDong dildo

  • Most importantly, it’s got a great curve for G-spot/prostate play. The silicone is moderately squishy/bendy, which should make it more comfortable for most people to use.
  • It vibrates! But you can also use it without the vibration and it works just fine as a dildo. The vibrations are on the buzzy side of the spectrum, but are nonetheless rumbly enough that they feel good to me, rather than annoying. They’re relatively quiet, too, especially when the dildo is inside somebody.
  • On that note, the button to turn the vibration on or off is located near the base of the toy and is helpful as a visual cue to make sure I’ve got the dildo oriented correctly (i.e. so that it curves into the G-spot/prostate).
  • It has a suction-cup base, so if you want to use it separately from the harness, you can do so hands-free!
  • The silicone is matte, and very silky and sexy to the touch. It can get linty/staticky, which I don’t love, but it’s a tradeoff I’m willing to make for how sensual the surface of this toy feels.
  • While I’m not personally wild about the almost Creamsicle-orange color of this toy, I do appreciate that it’s gender-neutral and not a flesh tone. I wish more companies would branch out color-wise in this way. (That being said, obviously if you want a super realistic-looking dildo, this ain’t the one.)
  • It’s waterproof! Yay!

 

Things I don’t like about the FlexDong dildo

  • The rounded head, while it feels great once it’s actually in you, might pose a problem for some people during insertion (especially anal insertion) since it’s not tapered. You may need to warm up with fingers or a smaller toy first.
  • For myself personally, as a receiver, I prefer a firmer dildo than this. I found that the silicone had a bit too much squish/bend to really give my G-spot the pounding it tends to want.
  • I wish the vibrations were rumblier and stronger, and that it wasn’t necessary to cycle through all 10 of the toy’s modes (3 steady modes + 7 patterns) to get back to the beginning.

 

Final thoughts

It’s always nice to have more strap-on options in my arsenal, and the QueerBind harness is a perfectly serviceable option for its reasonable price point. It pairs well with the FlexDong dildo, among others.

My main complaint about this combo is that I wish it were easier for the wearer to get pleasure (or even get off) from fucking someone with it, which is made difficult by the lack of a bullet vibe pocket and the fact that the dildo’s vibrations are concentrated in its head, not its base.

But I’d happily recommend this combo to strap-on newbies, or anyone shopping for a strap on a budget, especially since the harness’s quality exceeds what I’d expect for this price point.

 

Thanks to Arosum for sending me these products to review! This post was sponsored, meaning I was paid to write a fair and honest review. As always, all writing and opinions are my own.