All Reviews

Book Review: Serving Him

Kate Sloan

I felt pretty starstruck when I saw Rachel Kramer Bussel at the Feminist Porn Conference, because I’ve been reading her erotica anthologies for years and I’ve determined that we are more-or-less sexually in sync – at least, if her story selections are anything to go by. We dig the same sexual acts, the same turns of phrase. So I always gravitate toward RKB over any other anthology editor, because I know I can count on her to deliver something that’ll turn me on. Serving Him is indeed edited by RKB, but I don’t feel quite the same about it as I feel about some of her other works.

I judge erotica anthologies by how many stories bore me versus how many make me put my hand in my panties, and this book has a medium score on that scale. As the title suggests, it’s full of juicy short stories about dominant men and submissive women (yes, this is a hetero-oriented tome).

Some favorite stories of mine include Lori Selke’s “What You Deserve,” which features fancy food and spanking; Maxine Marsh’s “Tackling Jessica,” in which a football move becomes a fantasy; and J. Sinclaire’s “Duo,” a delightfully smutty MMF three-way.

Some stories in this book contain elements that drain the arousal right out of me – breath-play, humiliation, and dubious consent, for example. While there are obviously folks for whom these things are the height of hotness, it actually made me somewhat anxious to read about them. The Tumblr social justice community has embraced “trigger warnings” wholeheartedly, and I’m wondering if it’s time for kinky/edgy erotica anthologies to do the same thing – sort of in the same vein as how Yes Means Yes uses themed keywords to help you decide which chapters you want to read and which you want to skip.

I also found there were some stories which focused overwhelmingly on the psychological aspects of Dom/sub dynamics, with very little actual smut. This, again, is something that doesn’t hit the spot for me, but may be perfect for folks who find the non-bedroom parts of D/s relationships just as exciting as the actual sexual encounters. To each their own, right?

I should note that I like Dom/sub scenarios, contrary to what this review might indicate. But I guess I only like ‘em when they’re focused on sex and maybe a little spanking – the other stuff is peripheral or antithetical to my personal sexuality, while it might be central to others’.

Thanks so much to Cleis Press for sending me Serving Him to review!

Review: Tantus Pack ‘n’ Play #1

Kate Sloan

I used to cringe over realistic dildos, but now I am staunchly in favor of them. The Tantus Pack ‘n’ Play #1 is one such dildo and, predictably for Tantus, it’s lovely.

For those who don’t know what a “pack ‘n’ play” is, let me bring you up to speed: it’s a (usually realistic) dildo that’s flexible enough to be “packed” (worn under clothes, in a harness) but still firm enough that it can be used for “play” (i.e. fucking) as necessary. They’re great for trans guys seeking to deal with dysphoria, so I hear, but they’re also ideal for anyone of any gender who plans on engaging in strap-on play and wants to have their cock at the ready – maybe after a dinner date or something. They’re really quite an ingenious invention.

At least, in theory. This Tantus pack ‘n’ play works wonderfully for play but leaves something to be desired in the packing department. It’s squishy, yeah, but not so much that you can wear it under close-fitting pants without looking like you have a boner. If that’s the look you’re going for, more power to you, but it’s far from discreet.

The squishiness is perfection and I dearly hope Tantus will come out with more toys that have this VixSkin-like flexibility. It’s much more comfortable than their O2 formulation, if you ask me, but it’s still got enough firmness that it doesn’t feel wimpy in my vag.

This toy is a total A-spot champ, which is great for me because I’m obsessed with A-spot stimulation. It has the holy duality of oh-fuck-yes A-spot power: long enough to reach the spot (6.5" insertable) and soft enough to avoid upsetting my cervix when inserted all the way.

This is actually the first toy that’s caused me to notice the hyper-lubricating effect described by the A-spot’s discoverer, Dr. Chua Chee Ann: the Pack ‘n’ Play #1 always seems to be dripping with lady-come when I’m done using it. (Uh, is that TMI?) Sometimes I look at it and I’m like, “What the fuck?!” but I guess that means the toy is doing its job.

Initial insertion is always a bit painful with this toy. Its widest diameter is 1.75" and that happens fairly soon in the insertion process, right where the head meets the shaft. Tiny-vagina’ed folks, beware!

However, that swollen head, once inserted, presses super-snugly against my G-spot, so it’s worth the small amount of pain involved.

The toy’s base is chunky and easy to grab onto and thrust with. I have done some seriously speedy thrusting while using this bad boy, because that’s the kind of action my A-spot craves when I’m getting close to coming, and it has yet to slip out of my grasp at any point. Yay.

If you are intrigued by the shape of this toy but you want something firmer, the Vamp is just about identical except that it’s made of straight-up silicone, not dual-density, and is a paler color (because it’s meant to be a vampire dick, duh). The Vamp I have is older, so it has a shorter and narrower shaft than the Pack ‘n’ Play, but it’s since been updated, so if you order a Vamp now, it’ll be the exact same size and shape as the toy I’m reviewing.

One issue with dual-density silicone that kind of sucks: the bottom of the base inexplicably starts to dome outward after some time. (I’m using the word “inexplicable” because that’s how it feels to me, although I’m sure there is some sciencey explanation for it.) This means that my Pack ‘n’ Play acts like a bobblehead: if I nudge it while it’s standing up, it sways back and forth but doesn’t quite fall over. If my other dual-density dildos are any indication, this problem will get worse as time goes on, until eventually the dildo can’t stand up on its own at all. That won’t matter to most folks, though.

My A-spot is smitten with the Pack ‘n’ Play #1, even though it doesn’t perform very well as a packer and doesn’t do much for any other part of my vagina. Ah well; sometimes you fall in love with a toy for one very specific usage and turn a blind eye to its other issues. For the average consumer, though, I’d recommend the Tsunami instead: despite its strange appearance, it’s actually a far more versatile toy than the Pack ‘n’ Play.

Thank you so much to Tantus for sending me this toy!

Review: Vixen Creations Leo

Kate Sloan

Happy Halloween, nerds!!!

The Vixen Creations Leo is undeniably one of my favorite dildos ever – and not just because mine happens to be a limited-edition “Batcock.” No, this would be a marvelous dildo even if it wasn’t bright orange and emblazoned with spooky flying bats. (Although, come on, that is pretty cool.)

Leo is the perfect size for my vag. It’s 1 ½" wide at the bulge of the head and a teensy bit narrower through the shaft, and it’s 7" long. Stunning. Stellar. Fabulous. Flawless.

Its head is only slightly defined, but there is a wrinkly faux-foreskin where the head meets the shaft that is really the crowning glory of Leo. When I describe the texture, it might not sound great – it’s slightly scratchy, a little bit rough – but it is harmless and actually weirdly pleasurable. You need lube, of course, but Leo’s foreskin produces a texture-fuelled feeling unlike any other dildo I own, and that’s pretty nifty.

Vixen’s regular silicone may not be quite as terrific as their well-loved VixSkin material, but it’s pretty damn good as far as silicone formulations go. It’s the perfect meeting point between squishy and firm. (I’m using the word “perfect” a lot in this review, have you noticed? Damn…)

I like to use Leo as a warm-up dildo when I’m planning on transitioning to something huge – but it’s obviously excellent in its own right. When I have my monthly craving for realistic dildos, Leo is always included in that desire, because its shape and size are just simply the epitome of an ideal cock.

Fun facts about Leo:

1. If you’ve ever seen a porn scene starring Roger Wood, you’ve probably seen the Leo. He’s used it in every scene I’ve seen him in, and it seems to perform astonishingly well in a strap-on.

2. It shares a name with Harry Connick Jr.’s character on Will & Grace, so if you’ve ever had a crush on that dude, you can go to town with fantasies while using this toy. (Do you like my extremely dated TV reference? I spend too much time watching old DVD box sets, evidently.)

3. MINE HAS BATS ON IT. BATS! But also, you can get it in purple or black these days, and Vixen’s silicone has a kind of sparkly/twinkly quality to it, so those colors are gorgeous, not boring. Pinky-swear.

In conclusion: buy a Leo. It will make your orifice(s) happy.

This review wasn’t sponsored by anyone, I just thought you should have something nice and spooky to read on Halloween. Kisses!

Review: Wake-Up Vibe

Kate Sloan

I am a notoriously deep sleeper. I have been known to deactivate alarm clocks in my sleep and then wake up hours later saying, “What the hell? Why didn’t my alarm clock wake me up?!” I have missed many a morning class because the quality of my sleep is akin to that of a hibernating bear.

So I was intrigued by the Wake-Up Vibe, though admittedly skeptical. If loud radio announcers or blaring calypso music couldn’t get me up-and-at-‘em, how could vibration do it?

The Wake-Up Vibe is made of ABS plastic covered in soft, smooth silicone. It has a little display which shows the time and allows you to set the alarm. There are five buttons: left, right, up, down, and middle. It’s not immediately obvious how to go about setting the clock, setting the alarm, and turning the vibe on, but the accompanying instruction booklet explains all this stuff very clearly, so read it and you’ll be good.

It comes with a black storage bag which leaves little black smudges on the toy’s surface (you can sort of see this in the photo above). I don’t know why it does this; it shouldn’t, if it’s real silicone, so maybe it isn’t. It also comes with a cute pink sleep-mask and several international adaptors for its charger.

The vibe is shaped in a gentle curve that matches the shape of my mons, coming to a halt in a little ball that is meant to rest on the clit. (You can also position the vibe so that the tip is against your vaginal opening, if that’s more your style.) It stays in place very well all night long if I’m wearing underwear, but it’s totally impossible to wear this vibe without panties or some other close-fitting lower-body garment. I sort of wish there was another way, since I prefer to sleep naked or at least bottomless, but any other way would probably involve all-night vaginal penetration, which wouldn’t be ideal either.

You can set the vibe to start at a low speed and work its way up, thereby waking you up gently and slowly. You can also increase the minimum speed so it’ll start stronger, waking you up with more of a jolt (which I need). It has several patterns – pulses, waves, etc. – so you can pick the one that works best for you. While I’m normally not a fan of vibration patterns, I do find them more effective than straight vibration for shocking me out of a deep sleep. Nothin’ like sudden quick pulses right on your clit to rouse you from slumber.

And rouse me, it does. Sometimes I have some kind of sexual mini-dream just before waking as a result of the vibrations, something weird like Jim Parsons tapping a pen against my clit or my best friend inexplicably going down on me. But then I’m awakened.

The Wake-Up Vibe doesn’t turn me on. I don’t wake up with a ladyboner, even when I’ve had one of those illicit dreamlets. I just feel shocked out of sleep, adrenaline-flooded, just like when your alarm clock suddenly starts blaring pop music at precisely 7:00 AM.

You can also use the Wake-Up Vibe as a regular vibrator, though I don’t see why you would want to. It’s an awkward shape to hold onto with your hand, and the vibrations are buzzy and passable but not especially satisfying. I have tried in vain to get off with this thing and it has not happened – but, to be fair, that isn’t necessarily its goal. If this toy did turn me on in the morning, which it doesn’t, I’d just shut it off and reach for another vibe to finish the job.

I don’t think the Wake-Up Vibe is ideal for someone who needs to get up at a specific time; there’s too much risk that you’ll stay asleep, or that you won’t wake up until the vibrations ramp up to their maximum strength. This is really a better choice for those days when you can sleep in and want to be awakened sweetly, slowly, gently. And if you’re expecting to have an orgasm just as you open your eyes to greet the day, well, look elsewhere, ’cause this vibe can’t finish what it starts.

Merci, PinkCherry!

Book Review: The Whole Lesbian Sex Book

Kate Sloan

I’ve wanted to read The Whole Lesbian Sex Book ever since a friend of mine brought a copy to an LGBT conference we attended in high school and the two of us pored over new-to-us information about different types of orgasms and different ways to achieve them. I was over the moon when Cleis Press offered me my choice of books to review, because I’ve always loved their smart, sexy, informative tomes. The Whole Lesbian Sex Book was first on my list.

Let it be said, first off, that I’m not a lesbian. I’m a bisexual, I’m in a long-term relationship with a cis guy, and I have passing-for-straight privilege for sure. Although my perspective might be different from the average reader of this book, there’s still a lot I can learn and have learned from it – and indeed, I think this would be a great read for anyone who has sex with women, is a woman, is interested in female sexuality, or some combination thereof. This isn’t so much a book about lesbian sex as it is a book about having sex with women or as a woman or both.

And let me tell you, it does a wonderful job of that. This is a huge departure from male-written or male-oriented sex guides. Emphasis is placed on things that matter to women: the clitoris is regarded as the centre of our sexuality, non-orgasmic sex is presented as every bit as viable and valid as orgasmic sex, and the emotional and psychological barriers to good sex are discussed in depth, just to name a few examples of how wonderfully woman-oriented this book is. (That’s not to say these things aren’t also important to men – just that they are traditionally excluded from male-directed sex education resources.)

Felice Newman is a fabulous writer: non-judgmental, caring, and obviously passionate about women’s sexuality. I love that she rarely uses words like “normal” – her book normalizes a whole host of healthy sexual behaviors that people often feel unfounded guilt about. That’s exactly what a sex-positive guide should do.

Some of the chapters in this book offer practical advice on sexual techniques – “Breast Play,” “Clitoral Play,” “Vaginal Penetration,” et cetera. Some of them cover more abstract or complex topics – “Desire and Fantasy,” “Communication and Finding Sex Partners,” “Gender (Not Destiny),” and so on. In every chapter, you’ll find information that would be useful to sexual novices (“Many women enjoy clitoral stimulation combined with vaginal or anal penetration”) as well as information that will interest a more advanced reader.

Newman’s writing is interspersed with quotes from real queer women who responded to her surveys. These, too, have a normalizing effect: it’s fun and validating to see that one’s own experiences, even the weirder ones, have been shared by other women.

I was surprised to note that the book is pretty inclusive of trans people – both trans men and trans women. There is an entire chapter about gender but trans-relevant information is also sprinkled throughout. The lesbian feminist community has sometimes been known to exclude trans folks from their discourse, but this book is on the ball about that stuff, providing info about what kind of stimulation might work for different types of bodies and what the partners of trans people ought to know about how to have sex in a way that respects and pleasures their partners.

Likewise, the book also welcomes with open arms people with disabilities and queer women who have sex with men. I always love when lesbian sex resources acknowledge that some queer women have sex with men, because different considerations need to be taken into account for those women and it can suck to feel excluded because of who you have sex with.

Overall I’m really thrilled with The Whole Lesbian Sex Book. It’s one of the most exhaustive sex guides I’ve ever read (second only, perhaps, to The Guide to Getting It On, which is comparatively very heteronormative). If you like sex with ladies, or you’re a lady who likes sex, or you want to better understand lady-sex, this is undoubtedly the book for you.

Thank you so much to Cleis Press for the book!