The Je Joue Bullets are not lookers, not at all. There’s a sense of utilitarianism about these vibrators — the buttons are basic raised bits, each charging port is covered by a silicone flap. Nothing’s shiny or bedazzled. The color is Je Joue’s signature sad purple, the saddest and stalest of the purples. (Although they recently came to their senses and unveiled sky blue versions, so I can finally sleep at night.) There is very little that is outwardly impressive about these vibrators, but what makes them great cannot be seen by the naked eye. The price, yes, an attractive $59, but it’s more so the price in conjunction with the vibration quality. Because these are some rumbly mofos! You may’ve felt . . . read more

When I was but a wee sex toy reviewer, every new sex toy material was a treat. Not yet jaded by years of masturbatory ordeals, my vag was wowed by the smoothness of glass, the heft of stainless steel, the beauty of wood, the silkiness of silicone. Then I experienced luscious dual-density silicone, a true turning point. I quickly crowned it my favorite soft material and proceeded to stuff myself silly with dildos made out of it. That was 8 years ago, that glorious time of squishy exploration, so now I tend to take such materials for granted. It can be hard to get back into that head (vagina?) space again, but then there are toys that take me there, . . . read more

I’m not the type to chase adventure. Some people hop on roller coasters, travel to far-off lands, skydive out of planes… but I don’t pine for that rush of adrenaline. I’m more of a homebody, thriving most on routine and safety. My idea of an exciting time? Masturbating with a bizarre new sex toy to determine, once and for all, how its weird shape feels against my genitals. I first saw the Fun Factory Volta in a brief, fleeting Instagram video my friend sent me to ridicule. “It looks like a vibrating duck beak,” they said. “It scares me.” I showed the link to my girlfriend, who promptly typed back, “why does everyone want to slap the clit!” But I was . . . read more

Blink and you might pass right over them. They’re not terribly attractive, not revolutionary in function, not aggressively marketed. These vibrators have no celebrity endorsement or PR campaign behind them, and I’d bet serious money they’ve never been mentioned in any mainstream magazine. You can judge a lot about a sex toy without holding it in your hands, but there’s one thing you can’t predict, and it’s the thing that matters most: vibration quality. This is where the Smooth Operators pleasantly surprised me. The Toyfriend Smooth Operators — Snazzy, Choosy, and Classy — are made by a company named Tickler, and again, you could be forgiven for not knowing they even exist. The Swedish brand tends to lay pretty low . . . read more

The SenseVibe, much to my dismay, is not a fortune-telling sex toy. It can’t give you the weather forecast or lift your mood. It cannot intuit what your vag or clit wants. It is, despite the enigmatic name, merely a rechargeable dual vibrator from a newish company named SenseMax. I know what you’re gonna say. “Piph, you don’t even like rabbit-style toys, why would you want to try this one?” AN ASTUTE OBSERVATION, my friend, because yes — I am normally highly averse to dual vibes. They are very anatomy-specific, significantly less likely than other types of sex toys to properly align with genitals. They make grand promises of all-in-one stimulation, promises that often prove empty. They condition consumers to expect . . . read more

When you’re a sex toy reviewer, certain toys can feel like a blessing from above. Mediocre masturbation sessions are par for the course with this job, and even toys that aren’t exceptionally terrible can start to feel insulting and exhausting after a while. If you’re lucky, there’s one toy in your to-review queue that you actually enjoy using. One that is effortlessly satisfying, enough to get you out of your head a little, remind you that sometimes this gig ain’t so bad. There should be a name for toys like this… hmm, “savior toys”? The Zumio X is my savior toy of the last few months. Sometimes, it was the reason I kept masturbating when I wanted to stop. I’d . . . read more

Four years ago, my G-spot was forever changed by a revolutionary sex toy called the Stronic Eins. Not really a dildo and definitely not a vibrator, the Eins features an internal weight that facilitates a back-and-forth thrusting movement. This “pulsator” felt unlike anything I’d ever tried, wiggling against my G-spot so enthusiastically, and quickly became one of my favorite insertables. Fun Factory’s Stronic line proved that innovation is still possible in the sex toy industry — true innovation, not gimmicky and spurious “innovation” with air quotes. So a few weeks ago when an email popped up with the subject line CONFIDENTIAL: Secret Preview of New Stronic?, it set my heart fluttering. I was in the middle of writing a different email, but I immediately . . . read more

It was 10:15 am, just a bit before I needed to leave for work, when the We-Vibe Rave arrived in the mail. I was already dressed — pants, shirt, shoes. My hair was wet from a shower. I’d already had one orgasm that morning, in bed with my fingers after a hot dream, but it didn’t matter. I didn’t have my glasses on yet, but there was no time for that. Nor was there time to give the vibrator an initial charge. I took the Rave straight out of its packaging, turned it on, and unbuttoned my pants. I pulled up some porn on my laptop, shoved my underwear to the side, and pressed the vibrator against my clit in a blurry-eyed haze. Yes. . . . read more

[Very very sadly, L’Amourose is defunct. Vibrators most similar to this include the Mona 2, Rave, and Cuddle.] There is no clever way to start a review about a vibrator that just works. I can offer no snarky analogies, no thought-provoking insight, no riotous backstory. I can’t lure you in with tales of boundless pleasure: dramatically arched backs, fistfuls of sheets, kaleidoscopes of color passing before my eyes. But let me tell you about all the easy, simple orgasms I’ve had with the Prism V. Ones where I didn’t have to think, or try, or struggle… where I could just get off. That, there, is the triumph — small and insignificant as it may sound. The L’Amourose Prism V is not the most . . . read more