Super Creepy Sex Toys For Super Creepy People
Oh, god. You actually clicked this one, didn't you? Well, we're in this together, now. As you may have gathered from the title, this is a column about sex toys that go way beyond their usual function of spicing things up, and veer right into serial killer territory. I'm so sorry. It's too late to back out. We're scrolling down this damn thing, you and I. Just try to remember that each and every picture under these words is roughly as NSFW as that fantasy you had last night (I know because I live under your bed). But we just might make it out of this alive if you hold my clawed hand as we jump into this thing. Are you ready? Yeah, neither am I. Still, here goes:
WARNING: I know. Jokes are great. But really, what's about to come is painfully NSFW. Unless your boss is you, maybe wait until you get back home to check it out.
Oomph! Transparent Inflatable Doll
Unless you're Dan Aykroyd in Ghostbusters, chances are ghosts rank somewhere between clowns and the IRS on your sliding scale of preferred erotic eccentricities. Ghosts are all about creepiness and inherent dread -- even if your imagination manages to conjure a sexy specter, the lizard part of your brain would keep expecting a jump-scare, or at least a loud piano note to signify penetration. But Rule 34 is alive and well, so hell, maybe screwing a ghost might tickle your fancy after all, you poltergeist-jerking malcontent.
I'm kidding, of course. Even the sex toy industry would never stoop so low as to assume that you want to fuck a ghost.
Obviously, they assume you want to fuck half a ghost.
Rest assured it doesn't look better from any angle.
That horny plastic bag is the Oomph! M-Type Leg Half Body Transparent Inflatable Sex Doll Male Masturbation Toy, and it's basically that cheap-ass blow-up doll everyone first pictures when they imagine a sex doll, only see-through and cut in half at the waist. Why this is, I do not know. I guess the transparency could add a visual element, provided you're into watching your own dong plowing a nondescript, inflated mass of hips and sadness. Regardless of how you see it, no part of this is really justifiable, because you're either the weirdo who's into banging discount trash bag material, or the weirdo who saw a full-bodied blow-up doll and said "Yeah, it's nice, I guess. But it would really improve my erection if it was the victim of a tragic dismemberment."
What really makes this toy for me is how the manufacturer has taken all these mediocre ingredients of awfulness and combined them to make a genuinely impressive exercise in what-the-fuckery: it's ungainly, light, unpleasant to look at, crafted from the most generically awful materials in the business, and, of course, almost certainly uncomfortable as shit to use. Still, if you're truly into ghost bonin', the Oomph might be a worthy acquisition. There's no way this thing isn't haunted by the tortured souls of the victims of Boris The Bisector.
Have you ever had that awful dream where everything is suddenly eyes? Or teeth? Or maybe vaginas? Are all of those just me? And would that last one even be a nightmare?
Yes. Yes, it would. In fact, we have fairly decent proof of that, because once upon a time, some poor wang saw that very dream, woke up drenched in what I'm going to politely refer to as excitement, and proceeded to craft The Dream.
Insert your own outdated "Yo dawg, I put a..." meme here.
Ha, wow. That freaking thing has so many depressing aces up its sleeve (Geddit? I just typed that because it's a masturbation sleeve!), I don't know where to begin. There's the fact that it's a tiny hunk of silicone that's covered with vaginas, with the errant butthole thrown in because why not? When you're creating Clive Barker's Fuck Mitten, a lonely sphincter isn't going to offend anybody. There's also the fact that it still somehow advertises itself as a "non-penetrative" product, which immediately defeats the entire purpose of this horror-log completely and utterly. Oh, it has at least one opening. It's just that you need to possess a duck-style corkscrew dong to even get close to conquering it:
The Great Wall Of China ain't got shit on this defense system.
But even that is not the dumbest, most unnerving thing about this rubbery manifestation of sociopathy. That would be the way they describe the product:
Note to whoever in the sex toy makin' business might read this: If the main selling point of your nightmare product is "baby skin, even more realistic than actual skin," please release your hostages, wait for the cops to arrive, and try not to make furniture out of their faces this time. Leather lampshades haven't been in fashion in, like, three decades. Get with the times.
Blow Job Cock Ring
Wait, what's this? A "Blow Job Cock Ring"? This thing doesn't seem all that awful. It's a penis ring, right? People use those all the time, or, uh, so I'm told. Might as well jump to the next entry and see if there's something better waiting for us. Wait, we have another image? Eh, I might as well post it here before we move o-
Hahahahaha! Motherfuck! That's the most gloriously terrible thing I've seen all article. A fake mouth that's throwing up a real dick is such an exact goddamned opposite of a "blow job" cock ring, it would be funny if it didn't make me question everything I knew about pleasure. Someone, somewhere, actually sat down and designed this product, said: "Yep, we're all done here," and left the office proud of himself because that day, he actually fucking accomplished something.
The hilarious appearance of the Dong Vomiting Cock Ring is second only to the nightmare its use introduces to the logistics of boning. Imagine having sex with the partner of your dreams: Every single thrust, no matter how well executed, is going to be followed up by a forcible kiss from cold, dead PVC lips. Does that sound like "holy shit, let's totally do this again"? No. That sounds like "I might be dead inside now, and please deposit that crotch abomination in the nearest furnace." Hell, even if we're just talking blow jobs, things aren't any better; Good luck convincing anyone to go down on you when they have to look that thing right in the face, and probably give it an unwarranted kiss or 50 in the process. Aaaaand now we're all going to see nightmares of French-kissing a terrifying plastic mannequin with a dick for a tongue. I'd say that I'm sorry, but I think we all know that I would be lying.
Illusion VR Suit
Most new technology tends to take a dip in porn industry's suspiciously funky Jacuzzi well before making it to the mainstream, and, unsurprisingly, virtual reality is not the exception. The good news is that this means the glory of virtual reality sex suits is finally here. The bad news is that, right now, said suits are at the technical level of the Illusion VR suit. Even worse, they come from Japan. Behold:
Yes, of course that's an anime girl.
Male readers, picture yourself in that suit. Female readers, picture the male readers in that suit. Does that stupid fuckery seem orgasmic, regardless of how many sexy scenes the VR goggles throw at the seeing holes of your face? Maybe it does. I don't know your life, I don't want to make assumptions about your interests re: dudes straddled by sci-fi implements while squeezing absurdly fake boobs strapped on their own chests. It's just that ... look at that monstrous thing. Does it seem remotely dong-safe to you? If so, it's just because you're seeing a gif I made out of an expertly crafted demo video. Here's how that cock-churn actually functions:
I'm not saying that thing can't get you off. I'm just saying that when the machines finally revolt, they're going to be so thankful that a nice human scientist invented a dick-ripping-off robot so they don't have to.
All Sorts Of Body Horror Boners
I've written a sex toy article or six in my time, and if I've learned one thing, it's this: It's always bad news if the only way you can start an entry is with a comparison to John Carpenter's The Thing.
Anyway, with that being said: Ever seen John Carpenter's The Thing? Specifically, the titular "Thing"? You remember that shape-shifting body horror fucker, don't you? Now, wouldn't it be nice if it stuck to morphing into terrifying animal monsters, and the only part of the human body it could be bothered with imitating were dicks? No, you say? It would be horrifying? Well, tough titties, because here comes the ScorPenis:
Holy shit. That thing is an impressively accurate representation of what a shape-shifting alien might turn into if it had to imitate male genitalia, and didn't have Michael Bay to tell it about swingin' ole wrecking ball testicles. It's not alone, either. In the top image of this entry, you'll witness the mighty Cobra, made all the more suitable for hate-fucking thy good self with the addition of its droopy-ass, fleshy cheeks and its mildly disappointed "No, Cindy, you can't have a raise" facial expression. With that amount of existential dread thrown at you glans-first, the overtly ribbed texture and the fact that the toy's testicular region is essentially the coiled, scaly tail of everything evolution has taught you to fear is almost an afterthought.
Even when the company (Yeah, these are all by a single manufacturer) drops its animal theme and focuses on mostly human-like dildo antics, it manages to rock the boat of sanity by stuffing way, way too much in one shaft:
It's like getting three consecutive hunting arrows where it really hurts.
No longer is "triple dong" just an honorary that the Finnish military gives to its bravest soldiers; it's a thing you can actually buy, and all it costs you is a bunch of money and a completely new, forged identity after you inevitably end up in the ER with this stupid damn thing stuck in your butt and the inevitable camera crew for the local news turns up.
Oh, and I was being a tad dishonest earlier: It's not just freak dicks these folks are peddling. They also have ... uh, this:
It's called a Lotus Pussy, so I guess it's a ... yeah. But come on, look at that thing! It's not even the main villain in a horror movie. It's way too gross and inefficient-looking for that. No, after you've survived your encounter with the first three terror cocks, this fucking thing is what crawls out of the shadows and eats your face in the mid-credits stinger. The movie ends with it waving its nipple-feelers at the camera. Did you miss the nipples on that thing? I didn't. It's my job to notice such things. Tune in next week to my latest column, "6 Brain Cells I Haven't Managed To Drink Away In Retaliation To Those Damn Nipple Feelers Yet."
Pauli Poisuo is a Cracked weekly columnist and freelance editor. Here he is on Facebook and Twitter.
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