Since I can't put "extensive sex toy knowledge" on a resume, I'm putting it in a blog. My reviews are snarky, unflinchingly honest, and delightfully void of the term "battery-operated boyfriend."
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Lovehoney sure likes to keep secrets from me. First it was the Sqweel, and now the ominously-named Rock Box, which I had to apply to review without knowing much beyond the fact that it was THE WORLD’S MOST POWERFUL SEX TOY!!!1!!1. Considering that phrase no longer means anything to me, undeterred and with a flourish, I wrote in the application box:
I like to ROCK. And I have a lot of Aerosmith I could listen to whilst using the Rock Box.
Apparently that was good enough, because Lovehoney sent me the Rock Box. Which is approximately ten times more ridiculous than I imagined it would be. The Hitachi is often called a power tool, but the Rock Box takes that shit to another level entirely. And not in a good way. Not in a good way at all. Not only is it gigantic and looks like a sander, but it sounds exactly how you’d expect, and probably worse.
The Rock Box comes in a big ol’ cardboard box. Its manual is about the size of a paperback book, and only in English. Despite the photo on the cover that looks virtually nothing like the actual sex toy, I really like this manual. It says “GET READY TO ROCK!” on the front, so how can you go wrong?
The Rock Box likes gender norms, as it comes with two attachments, one for each of the only two genders that exist on earth. The male one is black and flat (with a few subtle ridges), and the female one is Pepto Bismol pink and shaped like a huge tongue. The jokes write themselves. The attachments are made of TPR, which of course I didn’t know until it was too late. They smell a bit and are porous, which is going to become a problem when I want to get rid of this thing. Like yesterday, because it takes up way too much goddamn space in my apartment, and that just will not fly for something that makes me cringe whenever I look at it.
I feel I cannot adequately describe the awkwardness of holding this thing. It weighs 2+ pounds with the female attachment. You’ve got the choice between one hand or two. With one hand, you grasp the weird handle. With two, you just hold on to the two sides for dear life. It doesn’t really matter which one you choose; either is going to debilitate your hands with itchiness. Best of all, the on/off button and wheel for selecting a power level are in completely different areas of the toy.
I’ve (begrudgingly) tried the Rock Box in many positions, and none of them alleviate the hugeness and the persistent itch. I can place it between my legs while lying down, but only if I allow the tongue to rest against my vaginal opening (the toy won’t sit flat due to where the power cord protrudes), and then my thighs quiver and itch. I cannot straddle the Rock Box, either. I end up in a gorilla stance, hands on the bed, shaking my head at what I’ve become.
You know, this toy is really not that far off from the Rock and Roll Massager. It comes with a similar flavor of shame.
“Vibrate” isn’t really what the Rock Box does; its attachment gyrates at 5,000 RPM. As such, the stimulation on my genitals feels wonderful, like a very exaggerated version of what the Eroscillator feels like. If I could isolate that feeling, somehow divorce it from the bumbling, gigantic black device that creates it, we’d be golden. But no. I’m flattered, Lovehoney, that you think I am capable of making things levitate and controlling stuff entirely with my mind, but I have hands that I have to use. And ears that perceive sound.
The cord is a borderline-excessive 16.4 feet long, and seemingly quite sturdy, except… the cord eventually falls out when you turn the Rock Box up to the highest level. It’s as if it has a sensor for when I’m about to orgasm, and that’s precisely when the cord becomes dislodged due to the extreme vibrations shaking. I guess you could wrap some duct tape around it to help it stay in… because if it didn’t look enough like something from your dad’s garage before, it will now!
Due to the inclusion of a “male” attachment, I even subjected my boyfriend to the Rock Box. Afterward, in the span of just a minute or two, he managed to refer to the Rock Box as a “piece of crap,” a “weird monstrosity,” and “that contraption” (e.g., “if I wanted to vibrate my penis, I’d use a real vibrator, not that contraption”). On the lower settings, the attachment flops too much and slaps his penis like a dying fish. On the high settings, it’s loud and not worth the effort.
Playing devil’s advocate, I asked him if at least the power wasn’t impressive. Without hesitation, he replied, “strength alone doesn’t make it a good toy. That’s like saying Rush is amazing because of the drummer.”1 In conclusion, the Hitachi is “way better.”
(On a gross but sadly pertinent side note, when I brought the Rock Box to him, he thought I had already used it and left my “gunk” on the attachment. NOPE, JUST A DISGUSTING AMOUNT OF CAT HAIR AND LINT.)
The Rock Box is cumbersome. It is inefficient. It is not easy to control. Compared to the Rock Box, everything is ergonomic. Including the Hitachi and Wahl, which are each .8+ pounds lighter than the Rock Box and are both able to contain their powerful vibrations without numbing my hands off or breaking my ears. AND LOOK AT THAT, they’re both also a LOT cheaper. Like, the Wahl is cheaper by $130.
Easily, the best thing about the Rock Box is its long-ass power cord, which the boyfriend has quickly stolen to power his computer and/or musical instruments.
But I’m pissed because I really did have hope. Rock Box is such a cool, freakish name, and the world needs more uber-strong sex toys. At £100 (about $158 USD), it is exceedingly not worth the money. And I have nowhere to store it. I guess I’ll put it in its cardboard box and shove it under the bed. Sometimes the cat decides to pee on any box under the bed, but I don’t even care.
I think we have a fledgling sex toy reviewer on our hands, people. [↩]
Welcome to Pleasurists, a round-up of the adult product and sex toy reviews that came out in the last seven days. If you like what you see and want more of it be sure to follow the RSS Feed and Twitter for updates.
Did you miss Pleasurists 174? Read it all here. Do you have a review for Pleasurists 177? Be sure to read the submission guidelines and then use the submission form to submit before Sunday May 20th @ 11:59pm Pacific Time.
The Leaf Life looks like something you’d pick up along a nature trail. Colored a cheery green and shaped like a fat leaf or a pointy slug, the Life comes from a line of vibes inspired by nature that I found too intriguing to ignore. And I’m glad I tried one (the right one, perhaps), because… I really like it.
The Life comes in a brown cardboard box that looks all eco-schmancy, but there’s nothing that makes this toy more eco-friendly than any other rechargeable vibe. It does come with a sweet storage bag. It does not charge magnetically, but instead one must impale the toy with a jack in the same way as with the Jopen Vanity vibes. You’d think this would make the toy far from waterproof, but no — somehow this thing is totally submersible. I don’t know how, but it is.
The vibe itself is not as uniform and sleek as press photos make it look. It does, in fact, have a seam that runs all the way around it (noticeable with the fingertip but not with the clit), and its underside is brandished with a slew of small symbols, such as the PowerBullet logo and the “don’t throw me away” trashcan. Leaf acknowledges this fact, as its manual reads,
Unfortunately we are forced to put them on due to international laws, so please do not be mad at us. Look on the bright side through, we made them very smooth and the same color as the rest of your toy so you more than likely will not really notice them anyway.
(Anyone else get the sense this is directed toward cranky reviewers like myself?) But they’re right — the symbols are all on the non-business end of the toy, on the underside, so they’re easily forgotten. Still, all of this cheapens the overall feel of the design, and makes the price tag ($130) harder to swallow.
Yeah, so, that’s the thing. This toy has several failings that it’s my duty as a reviewer to impress upon you. It’s overpriced, it has seams, its controls are confusing at first, and it’s not very quiet. The rational part of me understands these facts and wants you to know them too, but the emotional part of me — and my clit — would rather just say, “IT’S GREEN AND PRETTY AND IT FEELS GOOD AND DOES GOOD IN THE WORLD.”
So I’m gonna try to explain both sides.
The Life is controlled by a single button that illuminates when pressed. You press it once to turn it on, hold it down to turn it up, and press it quickly to turn it off — which is basically the opposite of what we, toy users, have been conditioned to do. It takes some adjustment, and I still find myself accidentally turning it off when I mean to increase the power, but actually… it’s a decent system once you get used to it. Even if there’s no way to know which level you’re on, and the toy doesn’t remember after a reboot.
The Life doesn’t have any vibration patterns. Not a deal-breaker for me, but if it is for you, don’t plop down the money. Plenty of other vibes have ‘em.
I find the Life very ergonomic. I have no trouble holding it or accessing its button in use. It feels natural and unobtrusive. Like… like it was created by nature! Ugh, ignore me.
Like every other rechargeable clit toy in the history of ever, the Life is not insanely powerful. It is nowhere near the Wahl, Mystic Wand, or Hitachi. But it’s not a weakling either, and it’s definitely enough for me. I’d say it’s on par with the We-Vibe Touch, one of my favorite rechargeable clit toys, but there’s a big difference in how the toys feel.
The Touch is a toy that I press into myself a bit; it has a wider tip, and the vibrations are reverberating and somewhat deep. The Life… it kind-of… writhes at the tip. Do not picture a tongue when I say this, but it flicks a very small amount because the tip is so small and the silicone has some give. Too much pressure dampens the sensation, but I’m fine with a moderate amount of pressure.
This flicking thing, this extremely pinpoint stimulation, really does it for me. Actually, this toy’s tip is so tiny that it made me realize how much of a lefty my clit is! That’s how hard it is to come by targeted stimulation like this. The Form 3 tried to do it and failed. I can’t think of another toy that feels like this one does, and that’s saying something.
So I struggle. Because I like the Life a lot — the stimulation is unique and delicious, the color is badass, and it’s rechargeable. But you should only buy it if you like super pinpoint stimulation, and only if you can get a good deal, and only if you are okay with some noise. Which doesn’t sound like the ringing endorsement my clit wants me to give, but I gotta keep it real.
Have you been jonesing for a deep look into the female psyche? Then What Girls Like is the porno for you!
Seriously, it’s uncanny how much this film understands womankind. Case in point: the painting scene. I have learned much from this scene, like that paint fumes are an aphrodisiac. And that girls like getting ass-fucked by paintbrush handles while contorting their bodies into pretzel shapes.
To my surprise, I learned that girls HATE happiness. And subtlety.
To nobody’s surprise, girls like purple! A lot of it. In sopping wet toxic paint form.
Girls like humping canvases. Girls like making art.
Pretty good, pretty good! I find this to be an intriguing representation of female desire. I like the mood, and the unique texture the artist has achieved. Slightly animalistic. Of course, it’s no pussy doodles, but what is?
Someone help these women apply to be on Work of Art, stat. They’re certainly on par with the guy who made cement anuses.
Thanks again, porn. If not for you, I would never have a clue about teh ladiez.
I’ll admit I scoffed at Real Housewife of Atlanta Kandi Burruss’ new line of sex toys, Bedroom Kandi. Look, I’m not into so-called “girly” things… like make-up. I haven’t owned mascara since high school. I’ve never bought a tube of lipstick. However! I do own my fair share of vag balls. And Hold On To Me (kind-of a dumb name… no, really a dumb name) is a set of four vag balls that, surprisingly, are not shaped like some cosmetic item.
Bedroom Kandi toys are manufactured by OhMiBod, so my vag balls came in a cardboard box with both BK and OhMiBod on it. Inside was a more heavy-duty black box that opens up to reveal a bed of black satin upon which the four balls rest. Also included is a small satin drawstring pouch.
At 1.25″ in diameter each, these things are downright puny compared to my favorite vag balls, the LELO Luna Beads. I thought these balls, if they worked, would be a good recommendation for folks who think other vag balls are too big. But no — although the Hold On To Me balls are comfortable, they fail in every other respect.
Each ball, which is made of clear plastic with a pink inner ball, is brandished with a golden dot or dots to denote its weight. There is a .9-ounce ball, a 1.1-ounce ball, a 1.2-ounce ball, and a 1.4-ounce ball. There are two black holster choices — a single-ball holster and a double-ball holster — which may or may not be pure silicone.
More things that are wrong: the golden dots rub off really easily and the holsters are thin and near-impossible to wrangle the balls into. Theoretically, you can create any combo of ball weights that you desire… but you won’t want to, because the process of holstering them is so heinous — and the payoff is so non-existent.
Yes, the sad truth is that the Hold On To Me balls are absolutely no fun at all to wear. I cannot feel a thing once they are inserted. The outer balls are not big enough to feel when I clench, and the inner balls don’t have enough space to roll around in. Once, I almost took a nap before remembering they were inside of me.
This becomes a problem when you think about the purpose of vag balls in the first place. You are supposed to use them to keep your PC muscles in shape. To keep your PC muscles in shape, you must do kegels. To do kegels, you must clench your PC muscles. And guess what? In order to remember to clench your PC muscles, you have to periodically remember that there is something in your vagina.
None of this, though, is as bad as the retrieval cords. They are the thinnest, flimsiest cords I’ve ever seen on vag balls, and they’re stretchy as fuck. HOW IS A REALLY STRETCHY RETRIEVAL CORD USEFUL? Seriously, I don’t get how this happens. Repeatedly. I even pulled on the cord while the balls were in my vagina, stretching it to its limit, cringing. Then I grabbed the tape measure. ELEVEN INCHES. And of course, the balls don’t budge until I actually start pushing with my PC muscles, which begs the question: what happens to people who don’t have developed PC muscles? I guess they risk the rubber band effect even more.
Stupid-ass design flaws aside, how are you going to tone your PC muscles if you don’t even remember to clench around the toy? You’re not. The Luna Beads and even the horribly-named (and disturbingly cheap) L’Amour Premium Weighted Pleasure System are both more noticeable and more pleasurable, because they are bigger and the inner balls have more space in which to roll, tremble, and party.
Much respect, Kandi Burruss, for writing “No Scrubs” and “Bug a Boo,” but maybe instead of designing sex toys, you should’ve stuck to writing R&B classics.
Sometimes I wait an embarrassingly long time to clean my sex toys. But that’s the beauty of non-porous toys — they clean up beautifully no matter what. And just look at this awesome array of colors! I’m so proud of myself for not having a pink and purple smorgasbord. Clearly, though, I need to invest in better paper towels.
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