It’s interesting, the narratives that evolve around particular sex toys. A woman who likes big realistic dildos, for instance, will often be assumed to like big dicks too, even if that’s not the case. A man who uses an anal vibrator can easily elicit comments about how he’s probably gay, even though anyone with a lick of sense knows that butts have no sexual orientation. And similarly, if you poll the public about what type of person owns a sex doll, odds are good that they’d tell you it’s single and (involuntarily?) celibate people who own them.
It’s true that sex dolls tend to be big investments – Best Real Doll has offerings ranging from $80 to $2,199 – and one could make the argument that a person is likelier to make that type of investment if they’re highly motivated by, say, horniness or loneliness or a combination thereof. But as anyone who’s ever been in a relationship can tell you, being coupled up is not an automatic or everlasting cure for horniness or loneliness!
Not to mention – and this is what I’d really like to talk about today – using a sex doll with a partner (or with multiple partners!) can be fun as hell. Let me count the ways…
Scenario 1: Long-distance play
Most applicably to my own life as a person in a long-distance marriage, adult sex dolls can be wonderful toys for couples who are separated by distance, whether for the long-term or the short-term.
Masturbating for each other over FaceTime or Zoom is fun, but it doesn’t necessarily help you feel like you’re there in the room with your sweetheart, because, well… if you were, you’d probably be touching them, rather than them touching themself. Watching them use a sex doll, on the other hand? *chef’s kiss*
Seeing my partner do things like go down on their sex doll, or get on top of it and fuck it, is like seeing my own sex life with them represented from a different angle. It’s also a bit like watching amateur porn the two of us have made together, except I’m not even there. It’s great! Highly recommend!
Scenario 2: Cuckolding
Cuckold kink is having a bit of a moment in the popular consciousness right now. (There’s even a whole book about the history of cuckolding, called Insatiable Wives. The more you know!)
However, even people who fetishize being cucked (or doing the cucking) may not want to actually go through with it in real life, for various reasons. Maybe they’re worried about STIs or COVID safety; maybe they work in childcare, education or politics and are concerned about being outed if they scout for a third on the apps; maybe they just prefer to be monogamous IRL despite their profoundly non-monogamous fantasies. That’s all valid, and cuck fans in those situations deserve to be able to explore their kink nonetheless!
That’s where sex dolls come in. They pose way fewer problems than a human stranger in your bed, and they also conveniently can be stored under said bed when you’re done, which… is generally inadvisable with real-life people. (Unless they’re into that, in which case, mazel tov.)
Chastity play is a part of my dynamic with my partner, and I could see it being fun to ride a sex doll in front of them while they’re locked up, as a way of teasing them with what they can’t have.
But even if denial isn’t explicitly part of your play, it can be hot to give your partner a show. They can “look but don’t touch,” like at a strip club, or they can get involved after a while if the spirit moves them. Sex-doll three-way, anyone?
Have you ever used a sex doll with a partner? Is it something you’d consider?
This post was sponsored. As always, all writing and opinions are my own.
Well, it happened again: I was offered a sex doll to review, and had to figure out who in my life was both 1) willing to receive and test the doll and 2) reliable enough to give me useful feedback on it so I could write a review.
This is one of those weird logistical problems that people never think about when they ponder the realities of being a sex toy reviewer. See, I don’t have a dick (except for the kind you can strap on), so I’m not a member of most sex dolls’ target demographic – and while my lovely and dependable partner does have a dick, they already reviewed a sex doll for me and were disinclined to make more room in their small New York City apartment for a new member of the family. Likewise, a friend who also reviewed a sex doll for me previously was (I assumed) not up to doing so again, having given away his doll to a friend (!) for reasons I can’t quite recall but that may have had to do with moving house and not wanting to lug a 68-pound torso onto a U-Haul truck.
So this time I asked another friend, someone I knew would give the doll a fair shot and tell me his uncensored thoughts on the experience. After he’d had a few weeks to test out the toy, I took him aside in his kitchen and we chatted about the finer points of the Tantaly Britney over prosecco and beer. It was yet another delightfully weird day in my career as a sex toy reviewer, although frankly, I’ve had weirder.
It might seem like it’d be exciting to receive a message saying, “Which doll would you like from this website?” but I imagine the decision can actually be somewhat daunting. Tantaly carries a wide array of dolls in varying sizes; the one my partner reviewed was a petite 14 pounds, but the more lifelike models can reach weights of nearly 70 pounds.
This time around, I asked my appointed tester why he’d chosen the Britney model, and he said, “It was the lightest, while still being the most of a person.” In other words, he wanted the realism of having a full torso-size doll, so as to more closely replicate the experience of having sex with an actual human – as opposed to just being a butt or whatever – but he didn’t want masturbation to turn into a deadlift workout. The Britney weighs in at a reasonable 28.6 pounds.
Interestingly, he also asked his partner for her opinion on which doll he should choose. I think this is brilliant, having seen – both in my own friend group and in hotbeds of online sex discourse like Reddit – the havoc that can be wreaked on a relationship if one partner buys a sex doll or another “big commitment”-type sex toy without their partner’s knowledge or approval. Your solo sex life is your own, certainly, and I’m suspicious of anyone who thinks they get to non-consensually control your masturbation habits – but at the same time, I can imagine feeling a bit blindsided and hurt if a full-size sex doll showed up on my partner’s doorstep one day and they hadn’t even asked me how I’d feel about them owning one, y’know?
Although he had already looked through the options and thought Britney seemed like the best pick, my friend showed his partner the site and asked which one she thought he should go with – and she actually liked the Britney best, too, because its breast size was more average than that of some of the cartoonishly busty models on offer. I’ve gotta say, when it comes to measures of compatibility, I can think of worse ones than “similar taste in sex dolls.”
Using the Tantaly Britney
Mr. Tester was, for the most part, quite happy with the Britney. He’d never tried a sex doll before, but had used strokers like the Tenga Flip Zero. He said that the dick sensations were pretty similar between the two, but the overall experience of using the doll felt “less clinical” and made it easier to imagine that the toy was a real person. This fantasy aspect is probably the main reason to consider getting a sex doll rather than a stroker, plus the fact that you can get on top of a sex doll and thrust into it in a way that can be hard to achieve with a stroker. (Something like a Fleshlight mount can make this easier to do with some strokers, however.)
The Britney doll has two “tunnels” – a vagina and a butt – and my friend didn’t observe much difference in sensation between the two. The main factor as to why he might pick one over the other for any given session was related to positioning: certain positions work better for one hole or the other, such as standing at the edge of a bed.
Having a squeezable pair of boobs right in front of you is also a strong selling point, and something that my friend enjoyed. I mean, I get it. Boobs are great. If you’re into them, they’re definitely a major benefit of having a doll rather than a stroker or a disembodied butt or pussy.
The main issue with the Britney – and with seemingly every sex doll – is the cleaning. All three of the people I’ve asked to review sex dolls for me have described the post-session cleaning process as “a production” – you have to wash the toy’s orifice(s) out right away, resisting the urge to bask in the pleasant afterglow of orgasm, because any jizz or lube you leave in there can eventually get moldy and ruin your very expensive sex toy. (Hot, huh?)
Smaller dolls like the Scarlett can be washed out in a sink (depending on the size of your sink, natch), but dolls with more lifelike proportions like the Britney will need to be dragged into a shower or bathtub for their ritualistic post-fuck ablutions. The physical effort of doing this, and of carefully rinsing out all the cum, can be annoying enough to deter you from using the doll as often as you otherwise might. My friend said he’d be likeliest to use this doll at times when he had at least an hour free – not because he lasts that long (he said jokingly), but because realistically that’s about how long the full process takes, from dragging the doll out of her storage spot and setting her up on the bed to washing her out and drying her off after using her.
Another problem is that these dolls are prone to leaching dye onto your sheets – but fortunately my friend had read the user manual before fucking the doll for the first time (always a good idea when you get a new sex toy of any kind!) so he was prepared for this eventuality and laid down a towel under the doll.
Final thoughts
My friend thinks the Tantaly Britney is a high-quality product for its $329.99 price point, and that if you’re in the market for a sex doll, this one is definitely worth considering. Its soft curves and pleasurable orifices make for a masturbation experience that feels much closer to partnered sex than using a stroker. Unlike some of the other pals I’ve asked to review sex dolls for me, this friend thinks he will actually use this toy on a semi-regular basis even now that the review is done, because in many ways it’s a significant step up from simpler/smaller/cheaper toys like those by Tenga.
But with great pleasure comes great responsibility, and when it comes to sex dolls, mainly that means cleaning. If you can contend with the aggravating need to wash out the doll immediately after using it – and if your living situation and physical strength are such that you can transport the doll back and forth to the bathroom or kitchen as needed without too much trouble – then you might be a good candidate to own a sex doll.
Real-life sexual partners may not require you to clean them after sex, and may not stain your sheets with their skin like a sex doll can, but there’s still something comforting and exciting about the near-realism of a doll like the Britney.
This post was sponsored, meaning I was paid to write a fair and honest review of this product. As always, everything I’ve written here is something I actually believe to be true.
There are many forms of “objectification play” that I’ve experimented with, and the older I get, the more I seem to enjoy this kink.
There’s the version where I’m a literal object, usually a piece of furniture like a footstool or drink-holder, performing a functional service that may not appear outwardly sexual but can feel very sexual on the inside.
There’s the version where I pretend to be a doll – either a literal, porcelain doll, or a full-grown adult who’s been transformed via hypnosis or drugs into a “human sex doll” – and then get to be “used” by my “owner.”
There’s the form of objectification that most non-kinky people are familiar with, the kind that shows up in fashion magazines and in plenty of porn, wherein I’m viewed as a sexual object without agency or personhood, just a series of willing and fuckable holes.
And there are lots more ways this kink can play out that I haven’t even tried yet.
As with many kinks of mine, a lot of what appeals to me about objectification is the way it helps me reclaim and subvert shitty nonconsensual experiences I’ve had in the past. All the Tinder bros who text shit like “u up?” and “ready to be my fuk machine tonight?” All the hookups who cared more about getting off than giving pleasure. All the times I thought I meant something to my date on an emotional level – even one as simple as “I like her and like having conversations with her” – but it turns out that apparently I didn’t.
The sting of these mistreatments has eased a bit after several years, but I can still bring those feelings vibrantly to mind if I focus on those memories. Because I’ve paired that type of objectification with consent and pleasure in roleplays with trusted partners, the idea of being sexually objectified in this way is no longer quite as abhorrent to me – because I know it can be done in consensual ways.
Granted, none of the people with whom I’ve play-acted objectification actually saw me as objects; that was what allowed the play-acting to indeed feel like play and not like senseless cruelty.
As someone who writes about sex toys professionally (including, occasionally, sex dolls), I find it oddly gratifying to pretend to be a sex toy of sorts from time to time. There’s something subversive and relaxing to me about setting aside the sexual machines I’ve been writing about all day and then getting to morph into a sexual machine myself.
See, when I’m being objectified in a deeply consensual and intentional way, my mind gets to shut off. And I value that a lot, as someone whose mind is always racing with anxiety and deadlines.
But also, in my career as a sex scribe, I’ve encountered countless people who thought that my career choice was an invitation for harassment and nonconsensual sexualization. They thought that my creative interest in topics like sexual psychology and the history of the porn industry was reason enough to see me as a walking, talking sex doll who exists to spice up their boring lives.
I understand the desire to have your life overtaken by someone interesting and magical – it’s the reason “manic pixie dream girl” stories continue to get cranked out year after year. It’s also something I’ve felt myself, during long hours of swiping on Tinder late into the night, always hoping that the next swipe would conjure a life-altering force, someone so cute and charming and kind and loving that my entire daily existence would take on a different tenor just from having them around.
But as I’ve been learning in therapy, viewing other people as potential “redeemers” or “saviors” gives your power away. It strips you of the knowledge that you have the ability to make yourself happy more readily and more profoundly than any external person can. It makes you feel dependent on people you never actually needed and maybe never even really wanted.
So I’ve been on both sides of the objectification equation: I’ve been objectified (a lot), and in some ways I’ve objectified other people too, seen them as heroes or saviors or props in my life story.
This is no doubt why it feels so good to me now when I play with objectification, from either side of the D/s slash. Because it shows me the difference between the consensual and nonconsensual versions of these dynamics – and even equips me with the communication tools I need to say, “No. Stop. You’re putting me in a role I didn’t consent to, and I will not stand for that.”
This post was sponsored. As always, all writing and opinions are my own.
She doesn’t know I’m in here
She doesn’t have a clue
She gets to be your girlfriend
I get to be with you
I hide out in the closet
It’s nice and dark inside
She gets to cook you dinner
I get to keep you satisfied
When the door locks
And your pants drop
And you feel like messin’ around
I’m a good girl
With my mouth full
So I can’t make a sound
Chorus:
I wanna be your sex-shop treasure
I wanna be your secret pleasure
I wanna be your perfect plaything
So you will think I’m so amazing
And though I’m so alone without you
At least I get to think about you
I wanna be convenient, sweet and small
I wanna be your doll
Your doll, doll, doll
It’s nice to know my purpose
It’s nice to have a home
You always make me nervous
I always make you moan
If this is Stockholm syndrome
I can’t say that I care
You like it when I lie here
I like it when you pull my hair
When the mood strikes
And the vibe’s right
And you feel like messin’ around
When the night falls
I’m a good doll
Who never makes a sound
(repeat chorus)
Songwriting diary:
A friend of mine mentioned he was keeping his sex doll in a closet, and I found that idea weirdly haunting. For a while I had a note in my folder of music ideas that just said, “From the perspective of a sex doll hidden in the closet: She doesn’t know I’m in here…”
I was messing around with that idea and came up with a piano part that reminded me of the Dresden Dolls’ song “Coin-Operated Boy,” which is thematically similar. For a few days I only had the verses and prechoruses, and didn’t know how (or whether) I wanted to finish the song. But then a chorus melody came to me, and I made a recording of myself da-da-da-ing it. I was out walking around doing some errands and kept listening to these two recordings back-to-back, pondering what I wanted to say as the sex doll.
Ultimately the lyrics I came up with for the chorus are very reminiscent of times in my life when I’ve felt used, discarded, and ignored by men I was seeing, or wanted to be seeing. Maybe this is why I was so drawn to that image of the sex doll waiting around in the closet to be used – it reminded me of how it had felt to wait by the phone for a text that would never come, or that would be a booty-call text instead of an I-love-you text.
Song 24/52: “Difficult Woman”
Lyrics:
They call me a difficult woman
‘Cause I’m always late to the set
They chide me for needing reminders of lines
I admit I am prone to forget
I wait every day in my trailer
It gives me time to think
And I’m not a child, so once in a while
I speed up the wait with a drink
Chorus: I’m not perfect; neither are you
I’ll never be perfect the way they say they want me to
They call me a difficult woman
That rumor was spread by my ex
I helped the director get ever erecter
I shouldn’t mix business with sex
I’m worried my name’s on a blacklist
And that’s why the cameramen stare
But it could be the tits, the charisma and wit
Or it could be my famous blonde hair
(repeat chorus)
They call me a difficult woman
I swear they don’t care if I die
If not for my name and my face and my fame
I doubt that I’d still be alive
I take every pill they prescribe me
I never miss even one dose
And I’ve never taken too many to waken
But honestly, I have come close
(repeat chorus)
I don’t care what secrets they spread
They’ll never defeat me – I’ll never let them kill me dead
Songwriting diary:
I’d been watching a bunch of songwriting challenges on YouTube where someone would use a random word generator to come up with 3-5 words that they would then have to incorporate into a song. One of the times that I did this, the words I got were “me,” “difficult,” and “woman,” which was immediately very evocative to me. I wrote down the line, “They call me a difficult woman,” and then started pondering what type of person/character would say that line and why.
It seemed clear to me pretty quickly that this had to be a song about Marilyn Monroe. I was thinking about how she would often forget her lines while filming Some Like It Hot, show up late to the set, and thereby incur the rage of her male director and co-stars. Her mistakes, it seemed, were always blamed on her and her alone, even though she was struggling with a drug addiction, a painful chronic illness, a history of sexual abuse, and widespread mistreatment by the media and by people in her own industry.
As I wrote the rest of the lyrics, I also started thinking about Judy Garland, who (like many other actors of her time period) was given amphetamines and barbiturates by people at the movie studio she worked for, leading to lifelong struggles with addiction, which were (of course) frequently blamed on Garland herself.
This was such an interesting songwriting process to me because I don’t know that I would have ever sat down and thought, “I’m going to write a song about the injustices faced by midcentury Hollywood starlets” – but the constraints provided by the random word generator inspired me to do exactly that.
Song 25/52: “The One”
Lyrics:
Isn’t it romantic? Isn’t it so sweet
That I could fall in love with anyone I meet?
But you’re the one I stay with; you’re the real thing
The one who I come home to; the one who wears my ring
I’ve been in love with other folks
But none of them got all my jokes
So I’ve been looking for the love
I know that I’ve been dreaming of
Chorus: You’re the one
The one I need, the one I want, the one
Who keeps me safe and warm, just like the sun
And every day, I’m glad for all you’ve done
You’re the one
I know it’s idealistic, and soulmates aren’t real
But every time I kiss you, that’s just the way I feel
It sparkles like a firework, it’s catchy like a song
Your arms are like my armor; your bed’s where I belong
I know we both have been through hell
At first, it scared me when I fell
Love was work, and now it’s play
And all those memories melt away
(repeat chorus)
I know we’re not invincible
We’ve got a lot to learn
But we’re up to the task
And I think we can last
Even though I know we’ve both been burned
(repeat chorus)
Songwriting diary:
I don’t even know what to write about this one because it mostly just flowed out of me improvisationally! The first verse was inspired by a polyamory-related idea I was thinking about, which I think I first read in Dr. Liz Powell’s book Building Open Relationships: that one of the beautiful things about non-monogamy is that your partner stays with you not because they’d be lonely without you but because they actively choose to be with you specifically.
I worked on the second verse and the bridge over the days after I wrote the first verse and chorus, and did some lyric-editing after it was all done, but musically I don’t really know how this came to me because it just… did. Songwriting is weird like that sometimes.
Anyway, it’s a song about my spouse, who is the love of my life and the person who made all my many years of dating misadventures seem worthwhile just to have met them eventually. When my friend Bex interviewed me about songwriting on our podcast The Dildorks recently, he asked me if there were any subjects I wanted to explore more through my songs that I hadn’t yet, and I said that I’d always struggled to write happy songs about being in love with Matt because our relationship has always just been… really good, and loving, and open, and comfortable. Even when we have conflicts or issues, they’re approached in a way that is loving and compassionate. This song was my attempt to write an uncomplicatedly romantic song about my love, and while I certainly don’t think it’s my best work, I like how it came out.
Song 26/52: “Dear Professor”
Lyrics:
Dear professor, I confess you’re often on my mind
When you lecture and you gesture with those forearms so defined
It’s hard to focus, hard to notice anyone but you
But I obey and get an “A” because you want me to
Your red pen hurts like a slap
I’d love to sit upon your lap
But I don’t like to break the rules
I’ve always felt my safest here at school
Chorus: I need a lesson
I’m second-guessing myself
I need a witness
I need some forgiveness
I need a teacher
Not some smug and pious preacher
I need some pressure, I need some pressure
I need you, professor
Dear professor, let me guess: you’re married happily
Do you let her give you pleasure? Do you take the lead?
Does she know you? Does she show you reverence at night?
Does she love you more than I do? I don’t think that’s right
Your passion always shines right through
Oh, the things that I would do to you
But I don’t wanna get suspended
And I would be so sad when it ended
(repeat chorus)
When I’m home, and alone
I don’t get to be your girl
In my bed, I feel dead
With my stomach all a-swirl
But in class, I can pass
For a normal somebody
Raise my hand like I planned
If I fall for you, will you call on me?
(repeat chorus)
Songwriting diary:
While feeling uninspired recently, I looked through a Reddit thread of potential song ideas, and one that jumped out at me was “a college student who’s in love with their professor.” This is something I’ve experienced quite strongly many times, and realized I hadn’t really written about in a song before, so I decided to take a crack at it.
I wrote the lyrics for the first verse + prechorus in my Notes app late one night and kinda forgot about them for a while. Then I started trying them out with different melodies and instruments. I had originally envisioned this as kind of a cheeky, cheerful song, but when I paired the lyrics with a more sad-sounding ukulele part, it felt right and I decided to go farther down the path of this being kind of a tragic song about desperately craving validation from someone who can never fully give it to you in the way that you want.
Song 27/52: “Lullaby for Little One”
Lyrics:
You’re never alone when you’re with me
I know you’ve been hurt and I think that’s so shitty
But hey – look where we are today
I know you feel strange and exceptional
But, if it helps, I am strange and bisexual too
You’ve got me and I’ve got you
And I know that deep down, we are one and the same
I know that we’re sharing one body, one name
I know that we also share all of those memories and shame
Chorus: And I’m here now to listen
And I’m sorry that I’d gone missing
It may not be much, but now that I know you
I know all the love that I wanna show you
And I’ll still be here for you even when everyone goes
I love how you stand up to bullies
The stuff that they scoff at is always so silly
But you, you do what you wanna do
You may not believe that your brain is a blessing
And I know that life can be plenty depressing
But wait – everything’s gonna be great
And when you are lonely, I swear I’ll be here
I’ll never be far from your faith and your fear
I’ve muddied the waters, but soon I can make them run clear
(repeat chorus)
Songwriting diary:
Okay, this one was weird… A month or two ago, a friend of mine submitted the phrase “I am strange and bisexual” when I polled my Instagram followers for songwriting prompts, and I wrote the first verse of this song. I was envisioning it as a song about a friend, maybe a friend who was feeling down about the political onslaughts on LGBTQ+ rights and needed some cheering up. I wrote a chorus for it that I later scrapped which went, “Queers have each other’s backs/ Queers can getcha through it/ Queers help other queers relax/ Almost any queer can do it.” I could’ve continued in this direction but that chorus just didn’t sit right with me, in part because of how much infighting there actually is in queer communities these days.
I set that song aside and didn’t really think about it again until a month or two later, when I was walking around Newark airport and this song just started playing in my head randomly. My brain was kind of chewing on it, figuring something out. And then I sat down at my gate, took out my Kindle and read a chapter or two of You Are the One You’ve Been Waiting For by Dick Schwartz, which is about using the principles of Internal Family Systems therapy to improve your relationships. A lot of that book is about getting to know your “inner children” so you can address your traumas and show yourself some compassion, and by the time my flight had started boarding, I’d realized that this song should actually be about my inner child.
When I got back home to my apartment in Toronto a few hours later, I took out my ukulele because I wanted to write a song. I was kind of resistant to the idea of working on the inner child one because it felt too heavy and emotional for the exhausted mood I was in post-travel. So I pulled two tarot cards as songwriting prompts, hoping they would give me a different idea. But the cards I pulled were the Nine of Swords and the Nine of Pentacles, which respectively symbolize (among other things) misery and anxiety, and safety and accomplishment. These notions, paired together, reminded me so much of the work I’ve been doing with Internal Family Systems that I literally said out loud, “OKAY, universe, I will finish that song!!” and then I did. I’m not really a religious person and don’t know exactly what I believe in spiritually, but the creative superconscious often feels wildly tangible to me. I know that sounds pretentious – oh well, it’s true!
I was describing this song to my therapist while it was in the works, and they exclaimed, “Oh! It’s like you wrote a lullaby for your parts!” which of course I immediately wrote down. Ultimately I decided “Lullaby for Your Parts” would seem weirdly sexual out of context, so I went with a slightly altered version of that title 😂
Note from Kate:I asked a cis male friend of mine to review this sex doll for me, because my partner already has one and doesn’t have enough room in their New York apartment for another one 😂 Here’s what my friend thought about his new doll, in his own words…
I’ve always wondered what it might be like to own a realistic sex doll. But I never bought one because the high-end ones I looked at were pretty expensive, and I was afraid that if I owned one, someone might find it in my home and make fun of me. I wouldn’t want someone to know I spent so much money on that kind of thing!
So imagine my surprise and delight when my friend Kate asked me if I’d be interested in testing and reviewing the Tantaly “Monroe” sex doll… for free! And when I say “doll,” what I really mean is a headless, armless torso with thighs that cut off above the knee. “Monroe” is ostensibly named after Marilyn Monroe due to her elegant hip-to-waist ratio, though I don’t remember Marilyn having G-cup breasts. This thing costs over $900, so I figured it had to be pretty legit.
After following Canada Post’s tracking for over a week, I got a knock on the front door and found a box big enough to hold a dining chair. I don’t know why sex toy reviewers always feel the need to describe their initial unboxing when they’re going to immediately throw the box away, but what the heck, let’s do it anyway: They promised “non-descript packaging,” and wow they weren’t kidding. It was a cardboard box containing a compact styrofoam coffin, inside of which was a nude torso wrapped in plastic. Nothing in the way of presentation or pizzaz, not even so much as a ribbon tied in a bow; only a teeny instruction pamphlet and tampon-like “drying stick” used to dehumidify Monroe’s orifices when not in use.
Once I cut Monroe out of her powder-coated placenta, it was time to pick her up and carry her to the bedroom like some sort of extremely fucked-up “carrying my new bride over the threshold” situation. And, while I know it’s rude to say so, she is HEAVY! 68 pounds of totally dead weight, to be exact (though when she sat on my face it felt more like 69, har har). If you have less-than-average upper body strength, you should really take this into account when considering the purchase of a Monroe. I had to struggle laboriously up the stairs with her draped over my shoulder like a firefighter trying to rescue half of someone. My cat didn’t know WHAT the fuck was going on.
After tossing her onto the bed and catching my breath, I immediately had the urge to eat her ass. In real life, spontaneous ass-eating can be a risky proposition to say the least, but it’s been over a year since I’ve had the opportunity to eat any ass at all, so I dove in and it was a lovely experience. Then I flipped her over, spread her thighs apart –which took more than a little bit of effort – and went down on her, fingering her in the process. While doing so, I suddenly thought about how wild it is that I finally have a lover who needs no foreplay and here I am warming her up just forthe fuck of it!
Anyway, she was now on her back with her fabulously gravity-defying breasts pointed to the heavens. I gave them a few ham-handed squeezes the way I might have in a teenage wet dream. They felt nice to the touch (and I even licked a nipple which was kind of fun). With that being said, I’ve had a few dozen sexual partners and I feel confident in saying the texture of these boobs doesn’t mimic the feel of any that actually exist, unless there’s some cosmetic surgeon out there stuffing wads of “cyberskin” into patients’ mammary glands.
Now the time had come: I lubed up her vagina and, since it was a bit cold in there, I held my fingers inside for about 30 seconds to transfer some of my body heat. After getting hard, I got into position, slipped in there, and WOW
WHOA
I came extremely fast. To be fair, I was particularly aroused by the anticipation of this experiment, and it probably ratcheted my horniness up even more when I revisited my long-lost pastime of ass-eating, but Monroe’s vagina was far and away the most pleasantly stimulating fake pussy I’d ever been inside. In my lifetime, I’ve owned around 10 various masturbators that purported to mimic a real fuckable orifice and this one takes the cake. And by the cake, I mean the cum. The first time I slid my penis into it, I immediately felt that anxious “oh shit I need to slow down” feeling I often felt in my early sexual experiences. My penis is pretty thick, and I’ve occasionally run into sex toys that are so tailored to a small-to-average penis size that they’re either uncomfortable for me or they begin to wear prematurely, as I’ve found with my otherwise delightful ArcWave Ion. But this hole was neither too tight nor too loose… To mix metaphors, I felt like Goldilocks finding the perfect bowl of porridge to stick my dick into.
As a side note, I enjoy the fact that I can seriously rail this thing like an industrial piston. I’ve never been allowed to ram into a partner’s hole with all my strength. Here, I could do that and it felt amazing both in terms of sensation and raw caveman humpery. So there I was, probably less than a minute after penetration, breathing hard atop a buxom semen-filled effigy.
And that’s when I learned that cleanup is a bit of a process. It’s tempting to skip it directly after coming because you’d rather bliss out and not do an immediate chore. But from what I understand, failing to clean this product, especially after ejaculating inside it, is a quick way to get a nasty situation on your hands. Sadly, this vagina is not self-cleaning and its pH is not self-regulating. But a few squirts with a bulb douche and sort of “scooping” out the cum and lube inside – not unlike some intense G-spot stimulation – gets it reasonably clean. You just have to figure out where the water will go when it inevitably comes back out of there (or else your bed may end up looking like someone’s just experienced an absolutely legendary squirting orgasm!) Once you get as much water and jizz out as you can, you insert the included “drying stick.” By the way, Tantaly sells additional drying sticks as well as other maintenance accessories and even a USB-powered “heating rod” to warm the orifices before use. You’ll want to buy a second drying stick unless you strictly fuck one hole per session. Speaking of maintenance, one inconvenient thing about Monroe is that she must be stored lying down, meaning she’ll take up around 8 square feet of space in your home. In my condo, she lives in a trashbag on the floor of my closet like something you’d see on some nauseating true crime docuseries.
So anyway, that was round one. A few hours later, I remembered “Oh yeah, I have a naked torso on my bed!” and decided to go for round two. This time, it would be doggy style. I once again picked her up and flipped her over, and I have to say, it was not very fun to do so. Tantaly sells similar sex doll torsos that weigh much less, and I found myself wondering if I’d rather try one of them (though it’s possible that their relative lightness could make them feel less realistic). I had a difficult time getting Monroe into a position that felt right for doggy style. While she is highly poseable, her skeletal frame takes a lot of effort to adjust. This is for the best, since she would collapse too easily if her frame were flimsier, but when trying to get her into position, you feel like you’re fighting with rusty levers in some abandoned mad scientist’s lab. It often feels like you’re forcing someone to move against their will, which is slightly distressing if you dwell on it for more than a second. Moving her around on a bed adds the element of mattress bounciness which can make the process even more unwieldy. To successfully pose her in a “doggy style position” requires you to make sure her thighs are both positioned at the exact same angle (otherwise she’ll lean too far to one side)… It’s like trying to get a tripod perfectly level if the tripod’s legs were human legs with rigor mortis! Also, she has no knees, so in any “kneeling” position, her butt is lower to the ground than it would actually be if her legs were complete and intact.
To her credit, when you finally get Monroe into a doggy-style position it’s a truly beautiful thing; her ass is a sight to behold and unlike a real-life situation, it feels okay to stare and truly appreciate what you’re looking at. Unfortunately, after trying rear-entry PIV in a few varying positions, I realized that both the angle and position of her vagina are so optimized for the missionary position that they make full penetration from behind nearly impossible for an average-sized penis. I’m a little longer than 6 inches and I could barely get halfway in from behind. So I decided to grab the lube bottle again and head on down to brown town. Her anal orifice (or “tunnel” as it is called on Tantaly’s website) is anatomically realistic in its shortness, but just like the vagina, it is textured in a way that’s more stimulating than any ass I’ve ever fucked. I enjoyed squeezing her asscheeks as I went in and out – WHOOPS, I came again. This time I lasted a bit longer, but once again, I could see an orgasm on the horizon the moment I started. Mind you, I’m no two-pump chump. The few times in my adult life that I’ve finished really quickly were with particularly petite women whose anatomy made for a lot more friction and grip than usual. But even then, I lasted longer than what felt like 60-90 seconds in this case! As I neared orgasm, I thought “Pull out! Pull out! It’ll make cleanup easier!” but my usual failsafe (fear of an unwanted pregnancy) was absent, so… hey, I got another chance to rehearse the ol’ “douche n’ scoop!” This time I put a towel underneath her to catch the jizzwater.
The next time I fucked her from behind, I experimented with ways to make her position feel more anatomically accurate. At one point, I set her clavicles onto a small piece of luggage and put a small briefcase under her thighs to create the true position her body would be in if she were a real person in that position. In this way, I could squeeze her boobs while fucking her ass from behind. I enjoyed it, but setting it up was quite a production for what was – yet again – a very short ride. I’m honestly considering fucking her with a condom just to last long enough to fully enjoy the experience!
It seems to me that one of the biggest selling points for a toy like this is the realism of something anatomically proportional with a realistic amount of heft. But despite her realistic weight and size, Tantaly hasn’t so much achieved realism as an enhanced fantasy version of realism. The breasts don’t feel like breasts, but it would be hot if breasts felt like that. I don’t think there are any vaginas or rectums with internal “pleasure nubs” but it would feel amazing if there were. Most partners won’t want you to slam into their holes with the full force of your body, but it would be fun if they did. These factors all add up to the heightened “fantasy-realism” of Monroe.
Two more details before I wrap up: It’s worth mentioning that after 7 uses over the course of 10 days, I noticed one small part of her skin (on the outside of her right thigh) looked very slightly damaged, as if its very surface were slightly peeling off. This might portend an unexpectedly quick deterioration of her materials, but it’s possible that something I did unduly caused the damage. Also (get this) if you decide to get rid of Monroe, you cannot ethically throw her in the trash; she’s made of high-quality TPE, so she must be recycled AND she may also be labeled as “bio-waste” due to “personal use.” So enjoy telling your local recycling center how the neighborhood kids must have pulled a prank by leaving her in your blue bin.
But here’s the big question: Is Monroe worth nearly $1,000? That’s hard to say. For the sake of comparison, I happen to have gotten plenty of enjoyment out of a smaller masturbator from Extreme Restraints that looks like a disembodied cross section of buttocks and vulva in a doggy-style position. It doesn’t feel as good as Monroe, and it’s nearly impossible to get into a truly realistic position, but it also retails for only $140, it’s easy to store, and I’ve never felt arm pain the day after using it. On the other hand, let’s consider who would be the perfect candidate for this kind of product: I imagine a lonely, bored, and/or sexually inexperienced guy who also has deep pockets. Maybe he wants a chance to practice with a life-size simulated partner before he starts having real sex. Maybe he’s afraid he’ll finish too quickly and wants to build up stamina. He either has a fair amount of storage space in his home, or he has a place where she can stay permanently. This guy also would ideally have decent upper-body strength. If all of these traits describe you, dear reader, then I think Monroe would be a great purchase.
But for the rest of you, let’s look at the pros and cons:
PROS:
Amazingly-textured orifices
Exciting proportions for those who love curves
Weight & heft add to the realism
Seriously, WOW these orifices, just WOW
Realistic size can allow realistic sexual positions
Useful for stamina training
CONS:
Heavy and unwieldy
Somewhat difficult to pose
Vagina placement prevents deep penetration from behind
Inconvenient to store/must be stored flat
Requires disciplined maintenance
Skin may begin to (slightly) deteriorate after few uses
Keep in mind that Tantaly sells a line of torso dolls with a variety of weights and sizes, so if you’re intrigued by the pros but turned off by some of the cons, you might consider one of their other models. As for the Monroe doll, she’s a partner with a few qualities that are more amazing than I’ve ever experienced, but they come at a steep price and aren’t without some annoying quirks… Hey wait, maybe she IS realistic after all!
Note from Kate:If you want to buy your own Monroe, you can use the code “GJMonroe10” to get 10% off! This post was sponsored, which means we were paid to write a fair and honest review of the product that was sent to my friend.
There are many forms of “objectification play” that I’ve experimented with, and the older I get, the more I seem to enjoy this kink.
Songwriting diary:
Note from Kate: I asked a cis male friend of mine to review this sex doll for me, because 
Anyway, she was now on her back with her fabulously gravity-defying breasts pointed to the heavens. I gave them a few ham-handed squeezes the way I might have in a teenage wet dream. They felt nice to the touch (and I even licked a nipple which was kind of fun). With that being said, I’ve had a few dozen sexual partners and I feel confident in saying the texture of these boobs doesn’t mimic the feel of any that actually exist, unless there’s some cosmetic surgeon out there stuffing wads of “cyberskin” into patients’ mammary glands.
The next time I fucked her from behind, I experimented with ways to make her position feel more anatomically accurate. At one point, I set her clavicles onto a small piece of luggage and put a small briefcase under her thighs to create the true position her body would be in if she were a real person in that position. In this way, I could squeeze her boobs while fucking her ass from behind. I enjoyed it, but setting it up was quite a production for what was – yet again – a very short ride. I’m honestly considering fucking her with a condom just to last long enough to fully enjoy the experience!