Once upon a time, because all stories that talk about toys and pleasure, the unknown and the hidden should start that way, right? So, anyway, once upon a time I went away for a night. Just one night away, it would be 36 hours of not taking care of anyone but myself, and then, not even. Someone would feed me, tell me where to go, when to eat.
All i had to do was be. It sounded like bliss, especially after five years of being pregnant, nursing or both. Five years of taking care of tiny wonderful dragons that are, in their core, little vampires and ginormous dictators.
One night away.
I wanted to take something for that night. Bring a special someone with me to enhance my experience of utter freedom.
That someone was a something, it doesn’t have a name because the acquaintance has been short and simple and so sweet. It is black, it has a hole, it vibrates, it does wonderful things to the body and soul. It is named a “Womanizer Premium”. I would call it something else entirely.
The story ends with this toy that was lost, or rather, stolen, before it could fulfill it’s purpose. (it also ends with a goody for you!)
The story is also about how a substitute came to be and about the most amazing Sex Store ever. (Yup, I’m talking about you Good for Her !)
The story is also about all of the other toys that once were but are no longer.
And of the toys that still are but didn’t get to come. (as much as they made me come).
My first toy was given to me by my first boyfriend. Or rather, the first man that was a real boyfriend. He was kind, he was sweet, he had read one book in five years, he was my first.
He bought me a giant purple thing I was terrified of, it was ginormous. That was not coming near anywhere anyhow.
It was a long distance relationship.
He had bought it to use it together because he had heard something or other that it was fun. He probably watched porn he didn’t tell me about. This is pre-facetime time.
I believe we barely used it. It was way too big. Man made dildos of skin and blood will enter the premises even if they are of a certain shocking size. Man made dildos of artificial materials will not, even if they are the same size. There is the body attached to it that makes it just easier or something. It was an important lesson to learn.
I don’t know.
My oldest friends still remember “el morado”.
I may be dating myself, but anyone of a certain age that watched “Sex and the City” knew they had to get the rabbit. It was perfect. It had outside stimuli with these soft rabbit ears. It had inside stimuli too. There were all kinds and prices.
There was one I got that had little balls that moved around and around, like a carrousel of pleasure, on the dildo part of things.
There was the simple rabbit with just the vibration feature.
There was the ‘original’ rabbit.
There were rip-offs of other kind of animals for the clitorial part of the toy.
It was fun. It was needed. It made me discover my next love.
Oh yes. If you don’t like penetrative stimuli, then why have it? I discovered the best part of the rabbit was the rabbit itself. Those ears!
The stores back in my un-home were scary and had massive walls of pornography of the non-feminist kind. They had giant toys and scary things to look at, and, obviously, a scroungy perv looking guy in the checkout counter. So no many questions could be asked.
Then I was in New York and I discovered my first female oriented shop. It was wonderful. It was not scary looking, it was pretty, it was managed by women.
It felt safe. Toys in Babeland opened up a whole new horizon for me. I could buy books, I could ask questions, I could have the rabbit ears without anything else.
Best part of most museums are the stores, aren’t they?
That also includes Sex Museums. Like the one in NY, or that exhibit in Berlin I took my mom to and then I proceded to buy her her first toy. She needed one. (Every woman needs one). She was slightly embarrassed and fought me on it… I don’t know if she uses it or not, but I sure hope she does.
Speaking of gifting toys, I have gifted many. The one that looked like a ducky to a very conservative, very bashful, very carefully excited friend. The beautiful one with sparkly purple things to that friend who had just broken up and needed some high vibrations in her life. The time I gifted myself the few hundred dollar one because I was just too damn lonely for anything else and I didn’t even know there was such a beautiful thing out there that could give me pleasure, not hold me, and simply be at my beck and call.
Gifting sex toys can be strange unless you know that person intimately, unless they won’t take it the wrong way, unless they will receive it with a smile and not like a judgement of their sex or lack of sex life. Or unless it’s a bachelorette kind of thing and it can be taken lightly and not as a premonition of what may come…
**The single lady and the dog**
I was single for many years. There was casual sex, mostly bad, some good, mostly jerks, some good guys… there was playfulness and distance, there was a cold intimacy that held closed doors.
I had a few toys. Until I got a dog. And I discovered that sex toys (like mouth guards, you link it in whichever way you want), and underwear are delicious chew toys. And so they went to the garbage, those beautiful things that were meant to be manhandled, but not dog handled.
If you move houses and you have put away your sex toys in a very specific bag or box so no one touches them, make sure you remember where they are. You do not want to insist on that person who is helping you unpack (like your mother in law), that it is ok for her to open up that bag. No, you do not want to do that. No one will be comfortable. No one will speak about that ever again.
Making humans inside your body is a very crazy, alienating thing to do. Everything you thought you knew about yourself and your body goes down into the abyss of assumption and you are obligated to ask questions and rediscover a whole new world.
Such as anal play. Yup, that was my first pregnancy. It was odd, it was needed and it was enjoyed thoroughly. Bought those toys at another feminist shop, the oldest one in New York: Eve’s Garden.
I could continue relaying the stories of my toys. The Lioness, the one that stores data of your orgasms on the cloud… the Ose (I am excited to try that one out), the simple ones, the complex ones, the ones that can live in your underwear and have remote controls, the ones that are to share, the one that is a one time use, the one that is a special occasion kind of thing, the waterproof ones, the ones that should be waterproof…
So many stories, so many toys, so many orgasms.
And so we come to the present, to the toy that got away, or rather, the toy that was stolen away. I had a difficult wonderful year last year. I had three tiny dragons, plus life, a business, a move, a partner and all of the things.
So I gifted myself with an expensive toy for my first ever night away. There was a sale going on so I took advantage of that and purchased the wanted toy.
Now, if you follow me on IG you will have seen this story. In short: I came back from my trip, there was a notice from the post office, I went to pick up the package. The package had been picked up already. Not by me.
I saw the receipt. a person (I have their name!) forged my signature, wrote their name down and picked up my sex toy. They claimed they had my address on their ID. I doubt they checked.
And that is how the #someonestolemysextoy saga began.
I called Canada Post and asked for help. They were going to open up an investigation but after asking me for the contents of the package, the pricing on it, etc, (I can just imagine the face of the person on the other side of the chat!) they then said they couldn’t do a thing since more than three days had gone by since the package had been picked up (I was out of town!).
So I contacted the store, the most marvelous, wonderful store you can imagine, and told them the story. They took the time to contact Canada Post and the investigation began on their side.
A week went by.
My trip was fast approaching.
I called the store and explained the situation. The owner, the wonder Carlyle, decided to send me the toy, express, to my home, out of their own pocket, so I could have it for my trip.
That’s what kindness and amazing customer service looks like.
Needless to say, that night away was wonderful and that toy was very well used.
Since then I have learnt that Canada Post refunded the toy to the store, thankfully.
Now you’ve read all about my sex toys. But what about yours? Is it time to get a new one? (the answer is ALWAYS Yes). So go to the amazing store that resent me my sex toy and buy yourself one. Go!
GOOD FOR HER
and, you will get a discount with this code! AWOKEN15