Can my vagina taste ice cream? Does my butt enjoy carrots? These questions, and more, answered.
There’s a little operation in Saint Paul, Minnesota, making the world a better place. Quietly, without fanfare, they’re making hand-poured silicone sex toys in fantastical shapes. Carrot and radish butt plugs. Popsicle dildos. Ice cream anal toys. Rocket ship strap-ons. And I didn’t even know they existed back when I got an email from them with the subject line Do Your Worst.
The owner of Hole Punch Toys, Colin, was emailing to ask that I review something of theirs. “You will absolutely tear it apart, I am sure,” he wrote. “However, I think it would be excellent fodder for your wit.”
His certainty was alarming. How could I hate an ice cream shaped butt plug or a sparkly dildo? What about these toys could possibly inspire such ire? I asked for clarification. He wrote back:
I based my supposition that you would not like them on a review of B.S toy, which you (not unreasonably) found fault in the finish and enjoyability of the form.
As you can see, my toys are not designed with physical functionality as a top priority. The pleasure my pieces are designed to induce is a cerebral one. I very much believe that sex can be play. One of the great pleasures of adulthood, for me at least, are the times when I am with a partner with whom getting naked and fooling around has an almost childlike sense of fun and discovery. It is a giggly, lightheaded feeling. My toys are meant to be a physical representation of this.
Also, [my toys] are not polished. While not ragged, they are not “perfect”. There are seams. There are blemishes. I make no apologies for this. It’s just the way it is.
This explanation made accepting the challenge even easier. How would these toys, not particularly designed for sexual pleasure, fare when used that way? What would I say in a review, given — for the first time — active encouragement to find fault in the products? How would I wield such unprecedented power?!
I asked for the Ass Cram Cone, Plugs Bunny, and Crotch Rocket. Colin alerted me that I had chosen all toys made with the stiffer silicone (40 shore hardness) and suggested they pour the Ass Cram Cone in a softer stock if I was planning to use it vaginally. Smart. I was. I agreed.
The toys came to me in cardboard tubes with cute home-printed labels. I took them out, lubed them up, and put them in my orifices (not all at once, pervs), ready and willing to do my worst.
For years, I have wanted a sex toy shaped like an ice cream cone. Not simply a toy with a swirlyshape, but something 100% committed to being a full-fledged ice cream cone. One existed before my time — manufactured by the supremely imaginative but long-defunct Dills for Does — but since then, nothing satisfactory.
The Ass Cram Cone is more adorable than my wildest dreams, and let’s be honest, that probably sways my opinion a bit. It reminds me of eating neapolitan ice cream straight out of the box, boring a tunnel through the vanilla and strawberry stripes and not giving any fucks how my path of destruction might impact the next ice cream consumer. Ah, memories.
My ass is not ready to be crammed with an object of this size yet, so I only used the Ass Cram Cone vaginally (Vag Cram Cone?). Thanks to the softer shore of silicone, it has a delightful squish to it that likely meant the difference between apathy and serious enjoyment. The cushy silicone dulls what might otherwise feel too harsh: the array of drips decorating the sides of the cone.
At 2″ in diameter, the Ass Cram Cone provides a good, secure, full sensation, with a hint of G-spot stimulation simply from being huge. But the drips are what seal the deal. Resting just inside my vagina, I clench and revel in their contours. Drips and I, we get along. This is front wall stimulation done well.
The cool thing is that, since this toy does not have a G-spot curve, you can position it depending on how the drips interact with your body. Luckily for me, my favorite drip position1 corresponds to a base orientation that doesn’t block my clit. This is imperative. I need to be able to wedge a clitoral vibrator in there or else I start screaming. Uncontrollably.
Thrusting is not a thing with the Ass Cram Cone. It locks into my vagina and I only have to nudge it a little to appreciate its… flavors (sorry). It’s also excellent when I hold my Hitachi against the base and make it vibrate wildly.
The base could be less obtrusive, yes; especially anally, it’s likely to annoy butt cheeks. But without a big base, this toy wouldn’t stand up proudly. And it needs to stand up proudly, for photo ops at old-fashioned ice cream parlors and baseball games.
Stimulating drips + fullness + soft silicone + the best color combo ever make the Ass Cram Cone easily my favorite toy of the three. Even if my vagina can’t taste anything yet, the drips bring such a unique, refreshing dimension to the experience. I like you, Ass Cram Cone. You are my melty friend.
This plug looks so fucking innocent, but oh jeez. I can put things in my vag all day long, but bring me a long, pointy butt plug and I fall to my knees in defeat.
The Plugs Bunny is only 1.2″ in diameter, but its tapered tip and 4″ of insertable length just kill me. It’s too bad, because the gentle waves of the carrot feel nice going in… but it becomes a pokefest once fully inserted.
Nature clearly didn’t take anuses into account when crafting the carrot.
The base doesn’t bother me — although admittedly the sharp edges of leaves don’t exactly lend themselves to resting comfortably between butt cheeks. I’m more concerned with the persistent ache from my ass being speared by a vegetable.
It’s not like I was expecting a revolution. Mostly I asked for the Plugs Bunny because when you’re given the opportunity to own a carrot-shaped butt plug, you take it. As a butt plug, though, I… can’t take it.
Verdict: buy this only if you feel a mighty need to own a realistically-pointy carrot-shaped butt plug. Otherwise, for your other vegetable sex toy needs, the Rad-ish Plug and Baby Carrot look more ergonomic, or you could look into the various wares of SelfDelve.
A behemoth of glittering, astronautical glory, the Crotch Rocket is easily the most visually stunning piece I tried from Hole Punch. Its shaft is speckled with teal glitter, and its base is, I’m pretty sure, the exact color of the smoke that billows up during spaceship takeoff: sparkly silver.
However, you’ll pay for this level of detail: $164. This is the price of handmade rocket ship dildos. Accept it. It costs more than a Vixen or Tantus dildo, more than the Pure Wand. And it’s not going to target your G-spot with the precision of a homing missile. It is, however, going to make your Apollo 16 diorama look legit as hell.2
That is the dilemma with the Crotch Rocket: form versus function. A softer silicone would prevent the toy from standing up on its own, and somehow that seemed important at the time, so I opted for the firmer silicone (the default density). What good is a rocket ship dildo that topples over? I thought. But what good is a perky, display-ready rocket ship dildo if it doesn’t also feel amazing?
Not that the Crotch Rocket feels unamazing. The three bumps are well-placed, and they work for me and my vagina. The top bump especially — that shit rules. I wish this toy had a G-spotting head, but the top bump almost makes up for that.
Seriously, the bumps are everything. If the Crotch Rocket was merely a torpedo shape, I’d be bitching hardcore right now. Fun fact: Tom Petty named his album Damn the Torpedoes to protest the proliferation of dissatisfyingtube–shapedsextoys. (“Refugee” is about jacking off without a vibrator. “Don’t Do Me Like That” is about someone trying to bring a toxic dildo into the bedroom. It’s a concept album.)
With stuff this large and textured, I usually prefer a squishiersilicone, which is why the Crotch Rocket is not a dildo I’ll be using regularly. I just don’t crave it. But the times I’ve had with it were more than passable — they were quite enjoyable.
Here I am, doing my worst, but true evisceration can’t happen when two out of three toys felt pretty damn good. Yes, they all have seams (which I found undetectable in use), and sure, they’re imperfect: the Plugs Bunny jabbed my ass and the Crotch Rocket failed to fulfill all my vaginal requirements for greatness. But I still respect dildo artisans, especially those with funky, playful designs. I guess you could say I have a soft spot for them.
Besides, a rocket ship dildo that doesn’t hit my G-spot seems easier to forgive than a plain janedildo that doesn’t. An ice cream butt plug knows its place; it aspires to nothing beyond resembling a delicious confection. When it does feel wonderful, though, it’s a stupendous victory. A sweet, sweet bonus… like dating someone whose neapolitan preferences compliment your own.