Vibrator Reviews
By Beatrice Hawthorne
Little Sucker: It sucks!
Dual Vibrator: Perfect. Use this one the most.
The Bullet: It was a dark and stormy night, thunder crashing outside, lighting sparks touching my bedroom window, rain tip-tapping on the glass, the wind howling…I had recently finished up a session with my purple bullet vibrator. I washed Her, placed Her back into the drawer where she lived, and nestled into my soft fluffy blankets. Then, faintly, I heard a buzzing sound from my drawer. As it continued, I grew curious, sitting up in bed with a shiver. I opened the drawer and saw Her glowing and buzzing. I was confused, certain that I had turned Her off before settling Her, and myself, in for the night. No matter—I simply turned Her off once more, closed the drawer, and went back to bed to resume my slumber. Then—just before reaching those peaceful shores of sleep—I heard Her again. Becoming annoyed, I stood up and went back to where she resided. I clicked the button to shut Her off…but she didn’t stop. I clicked it again, but she still didn’t turn off. I thrust Her back into Her den and threw myself back onto my bed, burying my face in the pillows, but to my dismay, I could still sense Her buzzing, mockingly, from the closed drawer. I knew I had two options: if I plugged Her in, she would stop vibrating, the act of charging calming Her energy for a moment…but I knew this meant she would inevitably gain yet more power. My other option: hold Her in my hand and wait for the battery to run out. I chose the second. Clutching Her in my grasp, I took her back to bed and waited for Her to die while scrolling mindlessly through my phone. As the night dragged on, my hand began to numb, and through my exhausted haze, I knew I had to take action. I threw my phone aside and rose, a new mission in mind. I tip-toed from my room and strode downstairs in the dead of night, with Her still buzzing in my grip. Once I reached the kitchen, I placed Her down on a cutting board, grabbed a hammer, and began to brutalize the toy that had known me so intimately. I shed a single tear as I massacred my possessed first play-thing. Each crack and crunch from Her reached not my ears, but my heart…but, to my surprise, this did not quiet the beast, but merely angered her. Her vibrations only intensified with my attempted murder, and Her on-off button definitely wasn't working now, as I had caved it in with the impact of the hammer. In a frenzy brought on by my tired state, my grief, my failure, I placed my murder weapon back where it belonged and returned to my room. As I languished in my bed, I began to plot. I knew I couldn't act out of pure emotion: I needed to be smart. I could not defeat Her by force, and if she touched a hard surface, she would vibrate that surface, so I couldn't hide Her away in my drawer or any other drawer. I decided to wrap Her in cloth. I took a sock and thrust Her inside, then took this bundle and placed it into the matching sock. I grabbed another pair of socks and hid the growing, still-vibrating snowball within them, then used yet another pair to silence Her further. I placed this amalgamation into the drawer where she would typically reside. Despite it all, she still managed to make noise. Instead of adding more socks I went to my closet, reached for a hanger, and hung Her sock-prison in the very center amidst my clothes. I then shut the door, and finally, the beast was quiet. I disposed of Her the next week in a Target trash can. Back from whence she came.
Whichever one this is called: Listen, if you have the time and patience... good for you.
