(More) Adventures With Hush Buttplugs

(More) Adventures With Hush Butt Plugs

Blogging (for the most part) is enough of a dead medium that when I talk about this project with those in their 20s sometimes they hear. “I self host a site” to mean that I run a discord.  I’m still at this largely because I can avoid a lot of the problems of censorship one gets in someone else’s site more than I expect to be wildly successful. That’s fine.

Likewise, the heyday of when the demands of SEO made sex toy review blogs a reasonable side hustle or even a full time gig has largely passed, and though I tried it same as many people in the space at the time, it was never a good fit for me. Most toys on the market didn’t do anything for me, and l lack the ability to be pleasantly neutral in reviews. Therefore  this is going to be a rare departure to the before times, where I talk about getting something for free.

I have actually been a little shameless. This is my second time at it, with Lovense sending me something to review, no strings attached except the request that maybe I send them a link of my review when I am done. Since I wasn’t a big fan of the Solace (good concept, needs more time to bake), I assumed that this would probably be the last I heard from them. Such is the trade off of the nature of reviews. You have to be some sort of big deal that just the attention you paid to say you didn’t like something was worth it, or the brand needs to be functioning on such a need to be noticed that the product is unlikely to be something you would want to try in the first place.

Then, fortuitously two things happened. Our several year old Hush finally stopped holding a charge and we were vaguely considering buying a replacement, since we’ve been pretty happy with them for the duration of our relationship. Then Lovense reached out again to ask if I would like to try one of their products. 

There’s an affiliate link here as a result, but it’s kind of a lukewarm commitment to that. I won’t blandish you with claims of my incorruptible nature, but honestly I think there’s still something interesting to say about the topic (and product) beyond that I got one. 

I like the Hush, and think it remains the gold standard for accessible, ready to go remote control buttplugs. Over the course of Silver and I’s time together, this would actually be the fourth one we have had. It was particularly helpful when we were long distance, but it’s still good at what it does in person. Lovense knows that, their cheerful reach out email even mentions how lots of D/s couples use their stuff.

The technology has been through many iterations at this point, mostly improving the quality of the signal strength of the toy. I will grant that Lovense had most of what it needed down pat from first conception, a silicone outer housing and waterproof charging port, plus the standard teardrop egg with flared base anything meant for a butthole needs to be. It’s the signal part that was a work in progress. Silver’s first model was actually pretty terrible, even if it beat out any other wireless options, with the vibrations and whatnot perfectly fine but the fatal flaw that if you sat down there was a strong chance that your body plus the chair would cause it to drop connection. Purchase #2 had a much better connection ability. Purchase #3, their largest size, connects fine, but is too big for the user, an entirely a user side thing.

Silver is very bad at pacing himself, and the rather saw tooth approach we take to play versus other real world distractions mean that the slower stretching part. Furthermore, Freud was not entirely speaking from the depths of his cocaine habit when he described people with high anxiety as “anal retentive”, which is to say that stress and butt stuff are not compatible. Prod a person enough, metaphorically or literally and they will tense up. 

It is a remarkable (and probably coincidental) phenomenon that butts operate much like genitals in the sense that getting into them becomes remarkably easier when someone is aroused. While I shall leave self lubricating anuses to the realm of boylove comics and the omegaverse, it is still true that as arousal causes blood flow to the rest of your pelvic floor, the anus typically goes from curled like an angry pangolin to ruddy pink and soft feeling, almost spongey in its give. You probably have a baseline, variable bit of ability to open up sans arousal, but it just works so much better when everything between your navel and your thighs is at full steam, all flood gates open.

The trouble is that the order of operations of buttplugs tends to be that you put them in near the start of the recreation activity you are going to do, solo and by yourself. In function they are a stationary additive, a little extra pressure on a nerve rich area. For those with prostates the right shape pokes that, but for everyone else the anal ring is one of the human universals. Matching timing to when your bottom is aroused enough to get the damn thing in, but not near enough at the end of an encounter to be anticlimactic is an art in itself. 

And the difficulty extends further: If you own the butthole and your brain is already raring to get going it can be very tempting to push past that moderate discomfort. But banging up the rectum is going to cause cumulative irritation. If this is a precursor activity to larger things, or some variation of thrusting penetration (regular anal, pegging) racing is going to actually run contrary to what you were intending. 

I think that’s also something to think about on a paired activity versus solo. All by yourself it is much easier to make those micro-calibrations for an easy slip in. Someone else being in control of the push and angle is just more likely to make you encounter physiological resistance. 

In a D/s dynamic I find this is its own fraught territory, because the goal is to make it seem like action and response are seamless. Starting encounters with the bad kind of ow is opposite of this, and liable to have one of you internalize you are failing, which is hardly the experience you want to have. And since a lot of subs internalize being pleasing over being comfortable as the goal or even a value add, you end up with a situation that encourages long term bad habits. They assume you want it to hurt because why wouldn’t you?

One solution is to make it part of the pre-scene prep, instructing the sub to show up dressed or stripped to your preference and plugged. This means that there’s less pressure against pacing themselves. Still, sometimes you want to go hands on together or you may want to make your habits encourage better odds of an outcome every time. For that we have settled on a bunch of edging, until there’s a much higher probability that everything will fit together smoothly.  The other step we decided was to go a bit smaller than we might typically. Specifically the “1.5” is a step down from the usual. That’s not to say that it’s precluding using other larger toys in our collection, but

The Hush’s main value is using it for prolonged wear, so it’s better to think in terms of comfort over immediate impact. Which brings me to another point of interest, the app. You are going to need to sign up for an account with the company and then download an app to your phone. All the sex toys they make require this for the other major functionality of the toy, a Bluetooth enabled slider dial remote. What has changed is the sensitivity of the Bluetooth part.

I remember the original ones we had were actually sort of frustrating in that they had very poor reception or the connection could easily time out mid play. Sitting on a bed could also block a connection, a pretty unfortunate issue. That seems to have been the focus of most of their improvements.

Lovense the company seems to have figured out the trick for passing the two app stores’ draconian hatred of anything sexual. Nevertheless as a point in their favour, in the event of some calamity they have left some “dumb” features into their design. Can’t connect for some reason? You still can push the single on button to cycle through it’s pattern of intensity and pulsing. Still, I am curious if they have any worst case solution to offer a side loading program or if calamity pushes them out of the app store eliminates the remote control feature.

Still, that’s probably a case of having worse problems if it does happen. And in the end this one will likely have the same route as the ones that went before it. Used intermittently until battery failure.


Additional Notes & Follow Up:

If you are new to pegging, Ruby Rider runs regular free online classes for both the basics and the next steps after that.

A Latex Moment with Silver

latex moment

You know, when you write a blog post and then the chaos of life hits? This is actually from last year, a latex moment nestled in the unpublished archives, written in a bit of summer, while we made the best of the distance.

4:00 pm after my carefully spaced burlesque class, I have haul my body home, cloth mask stuck on the sweat of my exertion and the humidity spiking my maybe Covid survivor caused, maybe pre-existing asthma. I think about the completely unhelpful “if you don’t feel well stay home” posters on everything.

Have any of us truly felt well, since March?

I text him my updates of where I am. When I hit the train station near where I live he already had the first plug in his ass. He’s not particularly loose by default, and I intend to fill him up, so warm up is important.

He is so tight. His ass is muscular, and looks like it has the grip it does.. Around two fingers he can clench hard enough to be a little uncomfortable. Silver knows the end goal for today is an egg shaped, ribbed number that inflates and vibrates. With its many settings and remote control, it’s ridiculous, decadent  and very human. Our commitment to our pleasure extends to hundreds of dollars spent on very carefully engineered tools to make him feel full and helpless. 

Fucking is already a bio hack, pleasure and a sense of mutual merging substituted over top of reproduction.  Kinky sex has a reputation for being a symptom of the extremes of “civilisation”, and today, preparing for a webcam worship session I am reminded that I live like royalty.

The rubber, in a sense, is dressing like it, too.

This fragile material was cut and hand glued, imported from Europe. It’s more expensive than anything else I own. Stored in layers of rustling white tissue paper, it is hand wash only, decadent and wildly impractical.

I shower before I slither into the costume I’ve chosen for tonight, a one piece latex catsuit and a hood. The process of dressing is particular. This catsuit has feet, and I begin by gathering each leg like stockings. Then I gently coat my foot and ankle in silicone lube. There is popping, snapping noises like elastic bands as I maneuver the limb into place. The rubber makes a satisfying noise and feels right when the divot of the heel wraps around mine.

I use white cotton gloves to protect the rubber, as I continue, lubing my legs, sliding and tugging it up over my hips. As I thread my arms into the sleeves the zipper at the back of the catsuit gapes, a little askew until I work out enough wrinkles for the next part.

I grasp the halves together with my right hand and pull firmly. My ass might be the widest part of my body, but I have the strength and leverage to get it up past that. It’s when it reaches the small of my back I need trickery.

I previously threaded a boot lace through the eye of the zipper, one end’s aglet snipped off. Now I use the lace to slowly draw it closed, pinching the zipper together as I go. Once I hit the small of my back, the trick makes dressing easy. In short order I am sealed from toe to the top of my neck. 

Now, more.

I pause and throw on a bit of eyeliner, and gather my still damp hair into bunches. The mask gets a little lube on the inside and I struggle to pull it on, chin first. Then, face roughly wedged so my features match it’s openings, I pull half my hair through each port at the top and zip it closed at the back.

A little fiddling takes me from pinched looking, to the still fashionable lip injection pout of the rubber compressing my face a little. Ringed by black, it makes my eyes pop, with only a little more mascara to look finished. My gathered hair becomes two buns on the top of my head, which while not so sophisticated, resemble nothing so much as a pair of ears.

The whole suit is hugging me in a way that I find very arousing. I could take or leave the slightly alien superhero look, as it will never really feel like anything but fragile lingerie, but oh how it hugs my thighs, my breasts, my waist and my ribs. Even the pressure about my head feels good, at least after a bit.

I add a little more lube to the inside of the cat suit, just to deal with where my new sweat will make me stick and call him over the chat client. Our faces both stare at me from my phone screen, as if I were having a threesome with a twin.

Both of us are completely dressed in black rubber.

He has a suit and hood, similar to mine but different in key ways. If my hood gives me a reverse panda look, his is, to me, much more erotic. Silver’s features are hidden under a sleek mask that uses laser cut pin holes to seem like the face is eyeless, the mouth erased. 

He is primed with flirtatious sexts and more casual play that week about “drones”, one of those mind control fetish concepts that seems to overlap rubber fet and hypno. He hasn’t been allowed to come for some time. We are leaning heavily into his core fetish cluster.

Drone space is about obedience without deviation. It’s not actually as easy as it looks outside of the arousal capacity of the fantasy itself. It’s getting someone to basically do a guided meditation, only the focus is a memorized pattern.

There’s lots of set dressing, calling your partner an “it” and roleplaying. We joke about getting an Alexa and renaming it with some cyberpunk hive queen name, so it can announce it does things to him on behalf of Domina Prime. Porn scenarios, of imaginary hives and factories, have numbered hierarchies. I think about the way that the name of every roman girl was her father’s and a delineation of her birth order. Prima. Secunda. Straight to Octavia and beyond, if her father was fertile enough.

Fantasy is a space to explore darker concepts, of permanence and loss of autonomy. We both get off on that happening to him. In our worship, these Sundays, I often spin out a game of sorts that realizes the terrible in vivid narrative. In practice I remain amused at the duality that you the reader enjoying this will find. If you are a fellow domme and I talk about my awkwardness, the hard work and my careful planning you will see yourself reflected. If I talk about my indomitable strength in my will over his and you are a sub, you will be charmed.

It’s both. 

I take a few minutes to find my feet, but I’ve mastered snapping together his fetishes and building this up on a foundation of my own desire. If I want to, I can turn him into a whimpering mess in about five minutes.

The latex on my body is stimulating me. I first thought the pooling wetness was sweat and lube obeying gravity, but pulling the zipper at the bottom finds a viscosity in the swollen lips of my cunt that can only be my own body.

After a preliminary lead in, I put him through his paces, practicing the most mindless and repetitive edging and hypnosis. 8 strokes slow, 4 strokes fast. I picked the numbers at random, using their memorable nature to make it easy for him to focus on only the count.

He reveals one of his surprises, a latex sheath for his cock and balls to make the whole thing even more decadent. I appreciate his commitment to the aesthetic even if I make him focus on being an “it”.

I like that he’s used two rubber cockrings to keep it in place. The cruelty, the extra swell of his cock trapped and his balls neatly packaged, asking me to see how sensitive they are. Once I am sure that cock cannot possibly get any harder, I move to what I have been planning all week.

Plugged, Swollen.

I tell him to take the next step and he gets the toy I asked him to ready, out of its tidy box and lubed up. Then the inflatable plug goes in and I thrill at the mechanical noise of its activation, and his shiver as it stretches him. I like that he is tight. I also like to push that tightness to its limits. He’s very careful about that, although later I will get him to find a set of graduated plugs, purely to assert my control that I know he is capable of more.

All men are different in how they lay down their plumbing. Silver’s system is close to the surface, easy to tease his ass just by pressing or vibing just behind his balls. I know the women he served before me initiated him that way. They did a good job, anal sex takes both a certain fastitiousness to make it inviting, but also a degree of self forgiveness if the biological inevitably is as eventual as I promise it will be. You can enema all you want, but someday you will find a mess.

I know that the body adapts and rebounds. I will use him as I like, and he will both suffer and enjoy it by turns. It’s a factor of trust, him that I won’t actually ask the impossible and me that I will ask him to do something for my sake and not his pleasure and see obedience without reservation.

Still, I have space to train him, or rather I make him train to allow me to occupy space inside him.

I stretch his ability to focus too, making him count the pulses in his ass and the pumps of his cock. In the hood, it’s harder to read how blanked out I make him, but it’s enough for me.

I was about to reward him by taking the hood he is wearing off, so he can see me without the blurring over his eyes, when he disobeys. He realizes that for about half his performance he accidentally set the bottle of KY just so, such that the white shape masks the bottom half of his body.

I had noticed it, but I didn’t care. He does, and breaks mood, to move it, a tendril of flustered creeping in even if I can’t see his face.

I will not have that. Probably the biggest “training” thing I work on with Silver is that he has a hard time putting obedience before perfection. Let a setting on a toy be fiddly, or me take a few moments to hunt for an errant object and his brain will focus on immediately fixing it. 

I force him otherwise, slowly, against his nature. This time when he tries to fix the camera view I issue a rare punishment, more edging. This will never come easily to him, becoming mindlessly obedient in the face of his own perfectionist desire to please thoughtfully.

But hey, no matter which outcome, we both win.

My Buttplug Is Dented!

Once in a while I get the urge to shove things up my ass. Only I’m next door to virginal with this, so that means small, carefully selected toys. And since the urge only strikes when I’m really, really horny (in this case a reaction to stress alongside breaking out and stopping eating), normally they live in a bland as hell cardboard box.

So I’d reached that point in a post shower masturbation session where my hair was making a puddle in the pillow while my fingers were making a puddle between my legs, when there was the itch to do it.

A while ago I bought an anal starter kit. It was the worst shade of lurid, Pepto Bismo pink, and on a steep discount over at pinkcherry.ca. But, Doc Johnson signed off on this, and since $20 is not a bad price to pay for a bunch of things I can’t see anyway…

So I’m deciding among my options: I have the condom to go over the buttplug (hygiene), the off brand KY, and go rummaging in the box for the “big” one. Lest you think I’m a size queen, that’s about the girth of penis at its widest point and that’s too much for me.

Only it’s not exactly smooth anymore. It’s gone all ripply. Like there’s a pinch, or a crease or a big dent. Well… it was $20 for a set. Looks like being stored horizontally was too much for the structural integrity and the soft core squished. So there I was, really horny, stymied by my own cheapness.

Don’t worry, anal explorations were not hampered by Mr. Dimple. 😛