sex toys

5 Things Sex Toy Educators Should Never Do

Kate Sloan

I’ve been educating folks about sex toys for the better part of a decade, and as such, I’ve developed strong opinions about what people in my industry should and shouldn’t do. It’s a delicate line of work, one in which you constantly run the risk of fucking someone up (or fucking up their sex life, at the very least), so it’s important to be thoughtful about how you approach it. Here are 5 things I think sex toy educators should never, ever do…

Make assumptions

You might think you know the sexual orientation, genital configuration, or relationship style of someone who comes to you for advice, but unless they explicitly tell you, you don’t actually know any of that stuff. So don’t assume you do!

The best way to avoid making assumptions is to ask questions – though, of course, you have to “read the room” to figure out which questions are okay to ask. For example, if someone who appears to be a cis man asks me for help choosing a toy for masturbation, I might ask, “Do you mean a stroker, an anal toy, or something else?” Or if someone says they want a toy they can use with their partner, I might ask, “What kinds of toys does your partner like/want?” rather than assuming the person is straight or their partner is cis. I’ll also tend to avoid using gendered pronouns until the person I’m talking to does. You can really put someone off sex toys by making shitty assumptions, so how ’bout let’s not do that!

Recommend toys that will cause harm

We know that toys made of jelly, for example, leach phthalates and cause internal irritation for many people who use them, not to mention potentially worse side effects like endocrine disruption. It would be a bad move to suggest someone buy or use one of these toys, at least without heavily educating them on the risks they’d be taking on by doing so.

Of course, the reality of sex toy retail is that some people cannot afford or do not want to buy fancier toys that are body-safe, in which case our job as educators is to steer them in the right direction while also meeting them where they’re at. Hard plastic vibrators are usually body-safe and cheap, for example, and if someone wants a squishy toy without a silicone-level price tag, they might be content with a porous (not toxic) dildo that they use with a new condom every time to keep bacteria out. A partial solution is better than none at all.

Perpetuate oppressive beliefs

It’s bullshit that all men have higher sex drives than all women; that all women have vaginas and all men have penises; that there are only two genders; that buying a sex toy makes someone pathetic or lonely; that masturbation isn’t necessary or allowed if you’re in a relationship; that sex toys take your virginity; that penetrative sex toys stretch out your vagina; that your partner’s going to leave you for a sex toy; and that you’ll permanently lose sensation in your genitals if you use a vibrator. These are just some of the shitty myths that come up in sex toy education!

As an educator, it’s your job to be more neutral than dogmatic, and to put far more stock into science than myths. Teaching someone about sex is a powerful opportunity to untangle lots of damaging beliefs; it’s sacred and should be approached carefully!

Act inappropriately

While you might encounter lots of cute people in sex education work, it’s really not cool to hit on them, at least not in that teacher/student context. Later on, when you’re on more equal footing, an opportunity might arise to ask them out, etc. – but some educators won’t even do that! Wherever you draw your personal boundaries on this matter, I think it’s better they be too stringent than too loose.

I’ve had sex shop employees give me the flirty eyes, ask me overly personal questions, or even straight-up demand to know if I was single. Don’t be that guy!

Lay blame

A lot of people are really fucked up about sex. They might come to you knowing nothing or next-to-nothing about how sex toys work, the different types of toys, and what toys can and can’t do for their sexuality. It’s not their fault if their knowledge level is low; it’s the fault of our culture. That’s why educators’ work is so important.

In the movie High Fidelity, a record store employee, Barry (played by Jack Black), shames a customer for not owning a record Barry thinks he ought to own: “You don’t have it? That is perverse! Don’t tell anybody you don’t own fucking Blonde on Blonde!” Don’t be like Barry. Remember that everyone is just trying their best, and it’s not their fault they’re ill-informed about sex.

What other mistakes do you hate when sex toy educators make?

 

This post was sponsored by the folks at SexToyEducation.com. As always, all writing and opinions are my own.

Any Toy Can Be a “Couples’ Toy”

Kate Sloan

Psst. Come closer. Let me let you in on a secret.

There is no such thing as a “couples’ toy.”

Or rather… there is no such thing as a toy that is only for couples. On the flipside of that, there’s really no toy you can’t use in a coupled situation – even if your partner’s only involvement is coolly watching you from a chair across the room.

I think a lot of this “solo vs. couples’ toys” debate is borne from stigma. I’m largely insulated from this in my own life, since I mostly date and fuck people who already know I’m an Internet Sex Person and thus assume – reasonably and accurately so – that sex with me will involve toys. But for many people, bringing sex toys to the figurative table isn’t just unexpected – it’s actively shamed and frowned upon. I frequently hear from women who want to use a vibrator during sex but are worried about how their boyfriend will feel, men who keep their Fleshlight a secret lest their girlfriend freak out at the sight of it, and so on. It’s quite a sad state of affairs!

What I wish I could tell these people – and usually do – is this: a sex toy is just a tool. It’s not a stand-in for a human, and even if it were, it wouldn’t be a very good one! Just as you might make your partner come with your hands or your mouth or your genitals, you can also potentially make them come with a sex toy. That doesn’t make those orgasms less real, or your role in them any less legitimate. It just makes you an open-minded, considerate lover who cares about your partner’s pleasure.

And it can be so much fun! I’ve had many a partner pound me with the Njoy Pure Wand until I screamed, squirted, or both. It’s a perfect example of a fun toy to use with a partner, because it feels significantly different from anything factory-installed on human bodies (I mean, unless your dick is made of stainless steel, in which case, kudos) and it works best when used to target the G-spot with consistent precision – something I’m not always capable of, myself, when I’m in the throes, but that a focused partner can do without much trouble.

Likewise, though the Magic Wand is often considered a solo toy because it’s supposedly too intimidatingly bulky to use with a partner, it’s actually one of my favorite toys to use during sex. Its broad head is easy for a partner to press against my bits even if they don’t know the exact right spot on my clit to aim for, and because I’ve used it so often during masturbation, my body is used to responding to its specific frequencies, making it easier for me to get off with partners. I’ve done too many fabulous forced-orgasm scenes to ever believe again that wand vibes are only for solo use!

One of the most contentious toys for couples to use together is a realistic dildo – any dildo, really, but particularly ones that look like dicks. I’ve known men who were threatened by them, and women who found them upsetting, for example. While it’s obviously fine to exclude a toy from your play if you dislike it, I think a lot of people don’t realize just how much pleasure you can get from fucking your partner (or being fucked) with a silicone dick. As I said, it’s just a tool for giving penetrative pleasure, so it doesn’t make any kind of statement about your cock (or lack thereof). A cis male partner of mine used to fuck me with a strap-on dildo that was smaller than his own cock, just to mix things up from time to time. I found it amazing – and still do, frankly – that a boy in his early twenties could already be so sexually enlightened!

There are people – myself sometimes included – who actually can’t get off during partnered sex without the help of toys. This doesn’t mean they’re broken or weird; it might just be how their brain or anatomy is wired. Frankly I think it’s sad that some people would rather cling to their precarious pride than help a partner experience pleasure. While it might be an adjustment if your new sweetheart needs a vibe, butt plug, specific lube, etc. to get their rocks off, it’s really not that unusual, and I promise you will have better sex if you can learn to be supportive rather than scared!

Which toys are your favorites to use with partners?

 

This post was sponsored by the lovely folks at Betty’s Toy Box! As always, all writing and opinions are my own.

What’s Changed Since I Started Reviewing Sex Toys?

Kate Sloan

I’ve been blogging about sex toys for over a month now. I started out writing about toys I already had, moved on to receiving free items to review, and now I’m blogging for Sex Toys Canada and reviewing for a few different sites. I’m surprised at how quickly this project has taken off for me, and how much fun I’ve had so far, even with only a month of work under my belt.

I’ve noticed myself changing already, though – for the better. Here are a few of the differences I’ve spotted in myself since I got started on this road of vibrator-touting.

1. I use lube now. I was always one of those girls who figured my natural lubrication would be enough. It was only when I started reading other reviewers’ work that I realized how many other people insist on always using lube when they masturbate. I’m now a staunch supporter of smearing my beloved Blossom Organics on any toy that’s going into me, and it has improved the experience more than I would’ve thought.

2. I actually like porn now. Prior to reading other sex blogs, I wasn’t terribly aware of the “alt porn” scene. I had no idea who James Deen, Danny Wylde, Belladonna, and Dylan Ryan were. I thought most porn was bound to be gross airbrushed shit, with fake-looking orgasms and tons of female degradation. But then I started watching stuff like Sexing the Transman XXX and Dylan and Danny Extra Credit, and I realized that porn can be real and extremely hot. Now I’m an avid alt porn consumer, and it has changed the way I experience solo sex.

3. I truly enjoy using toys. I used to sort of view sex toys as a means to an end – whatever made me come the fastest was a winner. But reviewing has forced me to step back and enjoy the journey as well, since that’s mainly what I’m reporting on when I write about a toy. I notice little details – textures, intensities, shapes – more than ever. It’s like an exercise in meditative masturbation.

4. I care about what I put into my orifices. I know that jelly toys are evil, so I haven’t used my jelly rabbit at all since I started reviewing, and I plan on replacing it with an elastomer version as soon as I can. I’m also very careful about keeping glycerin-laden lubes away from my junk… not to mention, I stay the fuck away from anal toys that don’t have a flared base.

5. I’m learning what I like. I already knew what I need from a partner; now I’m coming to understand what I need from a toy. I don’t enjoy internal vibrations. I can’t take more than seven inches before bumping into my cervix. I love the way glass feels inside me. My G-spot responds best to firm, rhythmic pressure. I need to rub vibrators against myself in order to get off. I don’t care if a toy is loud as long as it works. And I cherish being able to receive oral sex while a large, firm toy is buried inside me. Being sure of what I want is one of the best gifts I could give to myself, as it helps with every facet of my sexuality.

I’m looking forward to more adventures in the world of sex toy reviewing. For now, I’m just beginning my journey, and it’s been an outrageous amount of fun so far.