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Things I’ve learned from my vibrator mishaps…

Guest blog! The brilliant Zak Jane Keir is here to give you a run-down of some of her more hilarious vibrator mishaps. Read on to find out more, and why on Earth this post is illustrated with a picture of a pint…


Sex toys are are fab, no doubt about that. The amount of pleasure potential contained in a few square centimetres of plastic/silicon/latex and a couple of batteries is remarkable. What you might not know about is their comedy potential. Given that a Good Sense of Humour is still said to be one of the most desirable qualities in a human playmate, it’s only fair that vibrators can be good for a laugh as well.

My first Funny Vibe happened when I was 19, and thought myself quite the open-minded student-about-town. For clarity, this was long enough ago that owning a sex toy was still quite a shocking thing: you generally had to have visited a sex shop. Yes, there were adverts in magazines that could also help you acquire something but you would be taking a step into the heart of darkness by buying one of those magazines, or so it seemed to me at the time.

As it was, I’d acquired my own Angel’s Egg a few weeks previously and was already rather fond of it. This is a type of vibe that doesn’t seem to exist any more: it was egg-shaped, with a wire coming out of the wide end which connected to a control box – modern equivalents tend to be remote controlled. I was on my way to the shared house where my then-boyfriend lived, a weekend of shagging and general misbehaviour in mind, and I’d decided to take the Egg along. So there I was, on a bus, surrounded by little old ladies and a few bored workmen, with the toy buried deeply in my handbag, and of course the wretched thing switched itself on and let out an almighty buzzing noise. As I frantically scrabbled to locate the controller and turn it off, I found myself grinning idiotically and announcing to all the startled faces that it was ‘My alarm clock, whoops, nothing to worry about!’ At least no one asked why I had an alarm clock in my bag – perhaps they knew already that it was a bit of a Thing that year among female students to have your alarm clock in your bag alongside your contraceptive pills so you didn’t forget to take one each day…

And at least I didn’t say alarm cock.

Lesson learned: take the bloody batteries out before traveling.

A few years later, having progressed (OK, burned the motor out and therefore had to buy a new toy) from the Egg to what was then the classic style, sometimes known as a Non Doctor or Lady Finger [similar to these slim vibrators], I was invited to join in an evening of improvisational comedy in a pub. All of us taking part were told to bring along an Amusing Object of some kind, so guess what I took. Being a raging show-off I was perfectly happy to join in all the different rounds – the whole event was our then-gang’s attempt to play Whose Line Is It Anyway (younger readers i.e. under 40s: this was a bit like an early 90s version of Mock The Week). At one point, we were asked to perform a kind of show-and-tell with our items which had to be a) untrue and b) amusing. I think I blatantly ripped off Wrack and Roll and insisted the vibrator was the very latest thing in dental hygiene. I hope I remembered to throw in references to the use of electric toothbrushes as occasional vibrators and the myth of vagina dentata but I would have had a couple of pints by then so probably didn’t.

I do remember that the most joyous moment of the evening occurred when someone I thoroughly disliked was pontificating and I tiptoed up behind him and used the vibrator to put a head on his pint. When he shrieked with outrage, I cheerfully informed him that it had been washed before I brought it along.

Lesson learned: wash your vibrator AGAIN after you have used it to stir a pint of cheap cider. Or it will sting.

Just this year, I attended a wonderful erotica-related event and got given a goody bag which included a bullet vibrator. Once I’d got back to my B&B I decided that, after a day of stimulation, I might have a little personal entertainment. Only once I put the thing to use it occurred to me that it was roaring like the best kind of motorbike, and my head was suddenly filled with a myth from my teenage years – that using a vibrator was just like using your CB radio in that it would screw up your neighbour’s TV reception AND THEY WOULD KNOW YOU WERE WANKING, so I was too self-conscious to persist.

Lesson learned: Don’t let urban myths put you off your enjoyment – even if it were true, you could claim it was an electric toothbrush. And if you’re staying and playing away from home, have your iPod dock handy, so you can cover up any buzzing with a little drum & bass or death metal, depending on your tastes.

Zak Jane Keir is a writer and editor who has been involved with erotica for over 20 years. She has written countless articles (for magazines such as Penthouse, For Women, Swingmag and Desire) short stories and several novels, both as Zak and as Sallyanne Rogers. She currently runs the Dirty Sexy Words erotica slams in South London.

While some of the toys Zak mentions aren’t available any more, there are much better versions around now. Browse all vibrators, and don’t forget to use the code HAPPY20 – get 20% off throughout September. 

 

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