Over the years I’ve collected a few pieces of sexual apparatus and kept them together in a sex box. This was a pink plastic tub which has now turned into a suitcase and is stored hidden away under my bed. I’m assuming this is a common practice, maybe not a suitcase full of stuff but surely most people own some form of sex toy, particularly after the Ann Summer Party surge in the 2000s?
The contents always changes as I have a strict rule with vibrators, in which they must be binned and replaced every now and then but some objects stay in my stock consistently.
A few years ago when casually seeing my husband, I left work and went straight to the local sex boutique. Not AnnSummers or a seedy sex store, but a lavish shop. I’m guessing by the décor and content it’s designed for women customers. I hadn’t received ANY Christmas presents so on payday, went and spent a fortune as a treat.
I’m a salesperson and can gibber-gabber at the best of times, but usually straight from the office (where I consume much Relentless and Red Bull) I am pretty wired and it takes me a few hours to calm down. The shop was open late and as soon as I entered, the shop assistant and I seemed to hit it off straight away. I had the run of the place. It’s a sex shop with toys of various price ranges and the usual tacky outfits but attached is a lingerie shop with massively overpriced basques and underwear sets. To the side of the store was a fitting room, with huge velvet curtains and a massive mirror. It reminds me of a bridal shop where there is enough space for the bride-to-be to take centre stage in her potential gown.
For two hours, I tried on everything. We chattered and laughed and I had free reign. All the sex toys came out of the boxes and she opened the glass display cases, allowing me to try all the diamanté dog collars and jewellery. I felt like a dirtier version of Julia Roberts in Pretty Woman when she finally gets spoiled rotten in the clothes shop.
I left armed with all sorts and went to my then fuck-buddy’s house. Yes, just before I continue. I married my fuck-buddy! It is possible girls! I feel I should wear a badge of pride sometimes as a sign of hope for others. Casual sex can actually lead somewhere! But more about that in a future post.
So currently, the contents of the sex box are…
There are a couple in there. I first purchased a pink satin one but on the first use it got covered and stained with mascara as I was wearing it for some time and possibly my eyes were watery. So I bought a couple of black ones too. Also, if I fancy blindfolding my better half to tease him a bit, it’s not the most arousing thing to look up and see him in a pink blindfold. They are an essential in any sex box.
The plastic stretchy multi use pervy sellotape that can be used to blindfold, gag and restrain. They come in array of colours but I have black and a white roll. I have a piece of this tape attached to my headboard is left for any future use and another product hooks into it. Completely forgetting it was there I let my midwife into my bedroom for a check-up before having my baby and she clocked it then looked away. Mortifying! The best use I can think of for this tape is wrapping it around yourself, particularly your tits. You can strap them up in a fabulously pert position, but then remember the person unravelling them will be faced with disappointment as they sigh down into normal location. This is also a genius item to have in the household at times of fancy dress. On many occasion I have had to construct some last minute Halloween outfit and it works a treat.
Japanese Bondage Rope.
Purple rope that looks like something you would take abseiling somehow seemed like a good idea. My line of thought was a spot of ravishment, my hands being tied behind my back then to my waist during a scuffle. In reality, I brought it out of the bag in the boy’s kitchen and he stood there with the instructions bewildered at the amount of ways it could be used. The idea is to knot it around your body so it lies on pressure point. Stood by the fridge-freezer with my arms in the air as he attempted his best boy scout knots wasn’t the arousing plan I had in mind. He then left me there while he ran to look on YouTube for some hints and tips. The rope got put back in the box and has pretty much remained there ever since.
I’ve had this for years. For those of you who aren’t familiar with the term, it is cuffs with a metal bar between. Ideal for holding someone’s legs open by cuffing their ankles. This was a cheap purchase from AnnSummers and broke on the second use due to too much wriggling about. Either that or I have superhuman hulk like strength. I still have it though, the bar with one remaining cuff attached. I think I’m too embarrassed to put it in the wheelie-bin in case the waste removal technicians see it.
Yet another purchase from a sex toy party. I always feel obliged to buy something and I have attended many of these parties, in fact, I used to be a hostess. Not that I ever made commission as it all got spent as soon as I glanced at the new catalogue. The leather spanker has been used in jest several times and one friend hit another SO hard with it, while intoxicated, that she broke part of the leather design. Not a favourite utensil as I prefer bare hand!
Lotions and Potions
I seem to have accumulated many lubricants and heating/cooling gels, mostly samples or freebies. I got given a jumbo pot of tingling cooler from the sex shop as a gift for spending so much money. Most of them work and I have tested them, but they are not really my thing. One a cream has been rubbed onto a body part, a mouth can no longer follow. I get the same tingle from my tea tree and mint shower gel at a fraction of the cost. I never use lubricant either, it’s unnecessary, plus, it’s always much more arousing to use saliva.
A strange item to buy for me but I saw it that day in the sex boutique and it reminded me of 9 ½ Weeks. I used to find that film incredibly arousing, mainly due to a Micky Rourke attraction. Not that I’ve seen it in years, I’m too scared to watch it for fear that it would look far too dated or be unbelievably awful and ruin my fond memories. When I produced the riding crop from the bag, I got a nose wrinkly response from my then fuck-buddy. Even though I have a high threshold for pain, I don’t particularly find it arousing. I don’t mind feeling uncomfortable but I can’t really be arsed with being thrashed. It’s not his thing either. Used once in a gentle tapping fashion, then slung in the suitcase never to resurface.
Just plain old normal household pegs as an alternative to nipple clamps. I have to admit; I find nipple clamps a little scary to look at and don’t feel the need to have one fastened to me. Pegs seem a little friendlier. I have been known to orgasm just from having my nipples stimulated. I kid you the fuck not.
I’ve got several pairs of this and I adore them. Wedge part of the cuff over the top of your door, then shut it. My hands then get cuffed above my head. The second pair can be used for ankles but you spend a fair amount of time faffing about trying to get all four cuffs stuck in place. They also secure to my headboard or assemble into a normal pair of handcuffs. Extremely comfortable as they are padded and I love being restrained with them. The benefit of being cuffed with your hands raised above your head is your breasts instantly become pert. It’s my favourite position to have my arms! If I could function day to day this way, I would, hands in the air and my head down, eyes clamped in awe of the sudden perkiness of my own tits.
Costly but practical, hygienic and easy to maintain so it doesn’t have to be discarded with the others and stays living in my suitcase. It’s not wonderfully comfortable to use do to the rigidness and I’ve slightly cautious when I do, also I never let anyone use it on me. It’s perfect in the freezer too for a bit of a novelty.
At the moment there are an assortment of sizes and textures, all with different speeds or pulses. One thing I have owned and refuse to purchase again is a Rabbit. I’m absolutely not a fan. I just don’t think they provide sufficient rammage. My original one that cost much more than it should was stolen from my bedroom by my hyperactive border collie, chewed and buried in the garden. Took me days to even realise it was missing, until I saw it poking from a ditch in the corner.
These days, I’m fairly lazy when it comes to sex toys. If I’m masturbating, I have to reach under the bed, get out the suitcase, find what I want knowing I have to clean it after, then dry it before I can hide it away again. Using my hand, I would have already cum. But occasionally it’s nice to drag something out of the box randomly and have it used on me.
Admit the contents of your sex box….?