The Toy Review - A BIKSS Guest Post

Wokay everyone... some time ago I received a toy from Sohimi - the Electric Masturbator with Heating Function. They have a whole bunch of other toys for guys, which is a nice change cos a LOT of toy shops tend to have more ladies' toys than men's. 

So here it is, BIKSS' review - enjoy!

This toy came in a huge black box which, in itself, started me wondering how big the toy was.

The package was pretty nondescript, except for the little tag that screamed “MASTURBATOR!” That was a little disturbing. Otherwise the packaging was rather discreet. 

They got back to us later saying that was a mistake and it SHOULD NOT have said masturbator.  

Being the first toy I've ever had to review I opened the box with a little trepidation. Seeing it for the first time l will admit it looked kind of intimidating.  Big, black and looking like a large bloated Aubergine it was like taking hold of an alien fruit. The (inside) sleeve was a sexy red. That said, the texture was nice although someone with small hands might find it a little difficult to hold on and manipulate it.  

It comes with a charging cable and a tube of lube. More about that tube a little later.

Boys being boys, the first thing one does is press buttons. Instruction manuals are not for boys (me), so off to the side went the instruction manual and away I went pressing the buttons on the  MASTURBATOR, one by one.  Which led to some interesting discoveries, although I probably would recommend reading the instruction manual first so you don’t look too much like a complete little boy. 

First things first. It isn’t very noisy so anyone who needs to have a quiet escapade should find this quite welcome. 

It is not one of those models with an artificial vagina or butthole. The entrance was quite non-specific. 

I couldn’t really feel what the inside of the sleeve felt like as fingers could only go so deep. 

The entrance of the masturbator has a curved opening which fits well at the base of your cock and leaves ample space for the family jewels.  

Sliding the MASTURBATOR over Roger I quickly found that the opening IS NOT big enough for penetration without proper lubrication. Shoving Roger in without any lubrication was quite uncomfortable and only served to irritate. 

That's where the tube of lube comes in. 

Fondles pressed out a good supply of the provided lube onto Roger’s tip. The lube was stringy and a little too viscous for my liking and didn't feel very smooth or lubricating enough. 

With the lube on Roger and a semblance of an understanding of the functions of the vibrator it was time to try the thing out. Even with the lube there was some resistance to Roger getting in. It took a while and a bit of pushing before Roger was fully engulfed. 

Handling the toy was simple enough for me as I have rather big hands but even so I had to find a good grip at the top of the toy, where the silicone was a little softer and had a little give. Someone with small hands would have to use both their hands methinks. 

The vibrator has good, strong, vibrations which come in a choice of 10 different patterns. I did particularly like the intermittent pulsating mode. Admittedly, if left on your manhood long enough I’d think the vibrations would be good enough to make a guy cum.

Up to this point the masturbator had just been left in place, mainly because the lube from the box did not provide enough lubrication. Moving it up and down was actually rather uncomfortable as the lubrication dried up a little. The vibrations were enjoyable enough but the lack of up-down action was seriously putting a damper on the situation. 

After a while Roger started losing interest and since I was lying in bed with a masturbator in a delicate position I looked to my lidl someone to get things for me. Fondles ran over to the toy drawer and took out her own tube of lube. After much wiping and cleaning we put new lube on Roger. Switching to Fondles’ lube was an inspired move and we went back to experimenting with the masturbator. I’ve read that one should always use water-based lube in masturbators as oil-based and silicone-based ones can trigger bacteria growth or damage the toy itself respectively, so watch out. 

The masturbator comes with a heat function which, I suppose, is meant to warm the cock-les. 

Thankfully it isn't too warm.  The heat is concentrated mainly at the tip of the masturbator though and is not felt throughout the cavity. The warmth gave it quite a relaxing feel and I’ll admit it felt good when the toy was sliding up and down on Roger. 

Overall the vibrations are quite good and, given time, the sensations they give will lead to a pretty good orgasm. The lubrication provided could prove to be a minor inconvenience but as I said, use your own and you should be good to go. 

No idea about cleaning and drying.

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Cleaning and drying was my job, obviously. So I took it into the shower with me and pumped some gentle soap into the cavity, swirled it around and shook it up and down with my hand over the opening and I realised that it didn't take too much to get all the lube out. It *is* water based lube so I guess that helps. 

I left it to air dry and that was that. 

Note that he didn't actually ejaculate IN the toy, so that might be a whole different thing altogether. 

And since this IS a kinky blog (some of the time, anyway) I thought it would be beneficial to add that they have a BDSM category, altho there aren't many items there (4, I think). It was one of the first things I clicked! LOL. 

Happy surfing. 

My mood pic today ~ 

A Writing Game from a Long Time Ago

On the 7th of January last year (2020) I wrote the start of something and then invited readers to carry on the story... 

Things got a bit mad after that and I KNEW I had this one in my inbox waiting to be posted, but I just let it sit there and sit there and sit there -did you know my default setting is procrastinator? Isn't it amazing I'm so on-top of everything else in my life? It's sheer WILL I tell you!

Anyway I decided today would be the day I finally get round to posting it. 

This is courtesy of Gemma who sent it to me soon after, and I hope she will accept my sincerest apology for being so tardy with it. (The POV is different from my original post but I'm sure you get the idea. I've left everything intact.)

This was the bit I posted on my blog.... (KD's story appears as a comment on that post, so if you want to read it... pop over there.)

"That hurts, Daddy".. she said softly, looking up into his eyes. 

He reached over to stroke her cheek, "I know, Pumpkin, that's why I put it/them there." 

"Will you be a good girl and hold on for another minute?" he continued.

"Yes, Daddy" she replied, uncertain if it was the deep breaths that were helping, or the feel of his hand cupped under her chin in reassurance. 

It's not so bad after all, she thought, I can do this! 

That is, until she heard the 'whoosh' cut the air behind her... 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

And this is Gemma's story:

"Hayden, that hurts,"… I whine softly, looking up into your eyes.

You reach over to stroke my cheek, "I know, Pumpkin, that's why I put them there. 

"Will you be a good girl and hold on for another minute?" you continue.

"Yes, Hayden," I reply, uncertain if it’s the deep breaths that are helping or the feel of your hand cupped under my chin in reassurance. 

It's not so bad after all, I think, I can do this! 

That is, until I hear the 'whoosh' cut the air behind me... 

***

My fault, I think, completely my fault...

I was standing, nude – naked, even, presumably obediently – waiting for you, having unconsciously crossed my arms over my breasts – my poor, sagging breasts, gladly sacrificed to having nursed maybe too long then further ruined by my recent weight loss.  Who would want to see them?

But I’m not allowed to think that… to feel that way.  You enter and I immediately drop my arms to my sides – not only too late but drawing attention to my guilt, literally waving for your attention.  Unnecessarily - you miss nothing, my useless apologies address your raised eyebrow and are properly ignored.

A moment later you have me bending over a low bench, two clamps on a chain threaded underneath.  Why are my nipples hard?  They know we don’t want this... the clamps don’t bite but they do pinch, hard – a wave of pain goes through me.  I’m in a deep bow with my hands behind my back, left hand holding right wrist, waiting to be cuffed. 

“Please hurry,” I ask, knowing that in a moment I’ll reach to relieve my agonized nipples if you don’t stop me.  But you are quick, as always; my worries unfounded – at least that one particular worry.

My bottom is presented – will I be spanked?  You lift my chin, arching my back, sending bolts of fire from my nipples throughout my breasts and ribcage.  Why just the very tips? I ask in my head, though I know that farther back, where they’re thicker and the clamps would be even tighter, would hurt as much or more, just differently.  Still, your choice seems cruel – and precarious, could one come off, unintentionally?  Rationally I know they’re much too tight for that – I can feel that they’re too tight for that – but still I worry that I’ll jerk away a bit too suddenly.  And then what?

"Hayden, that hurts,"… I whine softly, looking up into your eyes, and you console me, promising that it’ll only be a bit longer.

And then the cane.  God, not the cane!  Can’t you just spank me? I want to scream, to beg.  But no.

My own fault.  Not just a simple, one-time mistake, a violation of your rules.  I’ve broken a much greater rule - continued, excessive self-criticism – and not just this once.  We both realize that I assumed that posture because it is so familiar to me, I did it just now because I do it all the time, continually breaking this basic tenet, assigned for my own good.  That doesn’t mean I have to want this!  Only this time, I did it in front of you.

Tears prick my eyes, not from the pain – though that helps, the clips are so low that I can’t help tugging at them.  Not from any perceived unfairness – the usual cause of pre-punishment tears.  No, this time it’s in sympathy for my poor, poor breasts.  No matter – in a moment the tears will flow freely ad this shine won’t matter in the least.

You tap the cane across the front of my knees and I raise my head, eyes front, nipples wailing.  My breasts are not high and firm but neither are they small – even at my recent, reduced size they’re each a small, round handful.  Your hand touches my shoulder in emotional support, making an important connection as you swing the cane forward and upward into the undersides of my stretched, pendulous orbs.  And again.  And again.

The pain is beyond shocking – my mind literally goes blank.  With the second and third stroke I cry out with a combination of shriek, moan, howl, and plea so garbled that I am choking on my own voice.  The sharp, immediate pain of the third stroke seems to sustain until it is overwhelmed by the deep, swelling echo-pain of the first, not even cresting as the second and third join it.  Tears explode from my eyes though I’m still too shocked to start blubbering – yet.

“Have to learn your lesson,” you tell me in faux-consolation, the cane against my knees, then dropping nearly to my feet.  “Just a few more.”  The words reach my ears just as the rod reaches my breasts.  Somehow, this time, I’m aware of yanking on the clips, hard, the low-starting stroke pushing me upward, finding my breasts closer to my nipples.  Should I prefer this to another stroke where the first three were?  I have no chance to, and no chance of, answering this; the twin points of pain that this stroke produces again remove my reason, my awareness of all else but the manifold pains in my poor, tortured breasts.

I fall to my knees.  You tuck the cane under one arm, snaking the other across my waist, lifting me back on my feet.  I’m babbling, please please please I’m sorry so sorry please…

“And…” is all you say this time – or all I hear, at least.  I perceive, vaguely, the cane against my shins, not even associating its absence with its near-instantaneous arrival at its target.  You’ve chosen my right breast this time, the tip a bit higher, reaching where I imagine the first three strokes have welted me.  That is, I would imagine, if I could; suffice to say that the far reach of the stroke not only ‘teaches’ in its own right but re-ignites the barely faded agony I’d suffered a moment before.  Twisting from this one-sided attack, I again punish myself by pulling on the clamps, first right, then left in response, right again and finally both.  More choking sobs, huge, heaving, clamp-jerking sobs as you brace me from the side, hard against your body.

You step back; I know why but have no idea how to avoid this stroke and, truthfully, no intention of doing so.  And I have such little time to wait – even as you move back to cane moves forward.  This is the most deliberate yet: I feel it cross the initial welts toward the outside of my left breast while more toward the center it finds a new path.  Intentional or not, the tip of the cane reaches my right breast, nearly to my areola.  Whatever my mental state, I feel all of this.

Quickly – you always act quickly – you release the clamps and throw me standing against the wall, your mouth on one screaming nipple as your thumb and two fingers massage life and pain into the other.  Swapping sides, you force your leg between my hips – hips whose gyrations have increased steadily since you first raised your eyebrow (though the quick little thrusts didn’t start until you lifted me from the floor).  I grind your thigh shamelessly as, at long last, your mouth finds my own, your hand covering my drenched core.

Stepping away you spin me to the couch, across the arm, as if positioned for a proper spanking this time – but I know you better and I offer myself wantonly.  Your fingers enter me unimpeded, fluttering, plunging one way and another as you twist your wrist.  I sense you kneeling and your thumb is on my clitoris, your fingertips dancing off of my g-spot, your breath on my bottom.

“Come to me, pumpkin,” I hear, not only in my ears but in my head, from dozens or scores of times past.  And I do, immediately – and still it seems long-delayed.  You slacken – though only for awhile – and I do, and, ultimately, one last time, I do, as you fondle me to a third, final, epically heroic climax.

Throwback to a BIKSS Story (part 2)

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Throwback to a BIKSS Story

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A Quick QnA with BIKSS

1. How did it make you feel when you realised you enjoyed being a spanker?

Surprised. Up till then I'd only ever thought about it in the context of doggy style sex and the classic "who's your daddy?" question.

2. When you were younger did you ever secretly want to put a girl over your knee?

No (see first answer).. smack her around a little maybe.. rough sex and all that... have her struggle.

3. On a scale of 1-10 how guilty did you feel the first time you spanked?

Don't think I felt guilty. More unsure than anything, as in, " How does she enjoy this?" Then I discovered the joy of inspecting for sexual excitement on your part and any thought of guilt vanished.

He eventually gave me a '3' when I insisted on a number.

4. On a scale of 1-10 how sexually satisfying was that same spanking?

The spanking itself was an appetizer. A taste of things to cum.

Also took coaxing. '6' was the number he settled on in the end.

And there you have it. If anyone has any questions (related to our spanking) you'd like answered, leave them in the comments!