When I hear the word “swan,” I think of a few things. Grace. Elegance. The color white. Bjork. Overwrought symbols of romance. Ostentatious pool floaties. And, because the folds of my brain are lined with a freakishly encyclopedic knowledge of sex toys, I think of a line of rechargeable vibrators called Swan. Swan is not the manufacturer. The toys are actually produced by BMS Factory, a company that prefers to mysteriously hide behind the names of their various toy lines. They make the favorably-reviewed Leaf and PalmPower lines, others called Pillow Talk and Lux, and the motors in some stuff from Jopen. If you’ve ever seen the phrase Powered by PowerBullet® stamped onto a sex toy box or printed in marketing materials, the toy’s made by BMS. Counter-intuitive . . . 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

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

You’re mid-masturbation and you’ve forgotten what it’s like for orgasm to feel achievable. You’re doing everything right, theoretically: the vibrator’s cranked up to its highest intensity, held faithfully against the favored side of your clit. You’re watching queer porn. Your vulva is well-lubricated. The cats are at bay. There is no reason this should be unpleasant. Except that the vibrator you’re using is absolute shit. Does it even qualify as a vibrator, really? These “vibrations” are pathetic and so, so buzzy. It’d be laughable if it wasn’t so sad. Actually, the emotion you feel is irritation — and it’s tainting everything. You become inordinately annoyed at the porn for daring to jump between sex and interviews; you need all the eroticism you can . . . read more

Say you’re in a sex toy megastore along the highway. You’re on a road trip, making a pit stop to get lunch — maybe chicken nuggets? — and decide to venture inside the local sex shop while you’re at it. After aimlessly taste-testing the flavored lubes, you find yourself in the wand section, fondling the myriad options. You’ve heard such good things about the Magic Wand Rechargeable, but what’s this? Several other very similar contenders? What’s a person to do? The Wonder ‘O’ Wand (with unnecessary apostrophes because of course we must coyly hint at the word “orgasm”) is exclusive to Castle Megastore, and aesthetically, it’s a near carbon copy of the Magic Wand Rechargeable. They’re the same size and . . . read more

It’s a let-down, but not in the “my clit is screaming” way. Not in the “orgasm seems like an impassable river” way, or even in the “these vibrations feel like death” way. But in the manageably sad way, like your car stereo breaking right before a big road trip. Not apocalyptic, but less than ideal. I expected to love this vibrator, but you know what happens when your hopes are high: they get dashed. The Vibratex Mystic Wand Rechargeable weakens under the weight of comparison. It cannot outshine its competitors or its predecessor. Its shape bears similarities to other sex toys that surpass it; its name sets up promises it cannot keep. It is a “wand” only very loosely, and is in many ways a downgrade from . . . 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