One of the most common misconceptions about electro-sex is that it hurts. It’s an understandable misconception, but to be honest we could say the same of almost any sex thing. That glass dildo is pretty fun if you’re sticking it in your cunt, but you wouldn’t want someone to clip you round the ear with it. That flogger feels like the most satisfying back scratch in the world if you wield it gently, but if you swing it like you’re standing in front of a ‘Test Your Strength’ machine it’s guaranteed to smart. Today I want to tell you about the new ElectraStim Explorer finger pads, while explaining why electro-sex does not have to hurt.

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Welcome, take a seat. You’ll find a heartfelt apology letter inside an envelope just beneath it. This is the first in what will likely be a series of ‘GOTN uses sex toys in ways they were not technically designed for, because she does not have a boyfriend.’ Today I’m gonna be taking two Godemiche grind rings – genuinely fascinating and (as far as I know) unique sex toys, and attempting to grind out an orgasm while using them in a way that I don’t think was intended, but which I enjoyed nonetheless. Let’s go.

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Sometimes I wonder if I’m horny or if life just deals out a bunch of sensations that kind of feel horny even though they’re not technically stimulating the sexy bits. In no particular order (and with an invitation to add your own in the comments), here are some things that aren’t horny but feel horny. You’ll get what I mean.

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This isn’t sexy. OK, it might be sexy. If you like cunts. But then if you like cunts, the way I write about them is going to seem bizarre and maybe even horrible to you. So I may well be about to take something you find sexy and absolutely ruin it. Here goes: I am disgusted by the inside of my body, and therefore I’m disgusted by my cunt, and so what I’m about to tell you is the most intimate thing I have ever done.

This post about vaginal inspection involves extreme and sometimes gross/shamey descriptions of the human body, especially (obviously) the vagina. 

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I’m not very chatty on Twitter any more, and it wasn’t until last night when I spoke to a friend on the phone that I realised… I don’t even call my friends that much these days. The last few weeks have been weird and frightening, and they’re only going to get weirder and more frightening until sometime in June when the fear will come to a head and I’ll either sink, swim, or cling desperately to any of the friends I haven’t so far pissed off by ignoring. This is how it works, when my mental health is bad: I hide.

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