I’ve seen the books by Dr. Sadie before. They have cute names like “Ride ‘Em, Cowgirl” and “Tickle His Pickle.” Tickle My Tush is the latest book by Dr. Sadie, published by Tickle Kitty. It’s, as you can guess, all about anal play. What you might not guess is how small this book is! It’s just over 100 pages but the book is both short and narrow, so it’s physically smaller than other educational books. There’s also a lot of white space in the book itself, which is why I was able to read it in only two sittings.

The good news is, if you’re just starting out with anal play, then you won’t be intimidated by this book. Because I think this book is really best for those who are just exploring the territory and maybe even those who have tried but haven’t had a lot of success with it in the past, this isn’t a bad thing. I, personally, didn’t find this book to be eye-opening but I was able to compare it to my own experience and the experiences of those I know and can say the advice is pretty solid.

Dr Sadie splits the book up into chapters that begin by introducing anal play to the reader. In the first chapter, she explains why people enjoy it. The next address frequently asked questions and the third talks about anal safety. One thing I enjoyed is that she is always stressing lubing it up and communication with your partner, whether you’re on the giving or receiving end. The chapters continue on, and Dr Sadie talks about hygiene then introduces the anatomy of the ass in both men and women.

In the sixth chapter, the action finally begins as Sadie instructs the reader about anal massage. Fingerplay and oral follow before a chapter on penetration. Experienced users can tune right in to read about orgasm through anal play and Dr Sadie devotes an entire chapter to anal toys — and she stresses the necessity for flared bases at least three times. The segues into strap-on anal play, which Sadie assumes is between men and women only. She does a great job explaining why a woman might want to don a dong but the entire book has a hetero/monogamous slant. It doesn’t make it less useful for people in general; however, it would be more useful and welcoming with different language. After all, wouldn’t a gay man or a lesbian want to learn the basics of anal play, too?

Tickle My Tush wraps up with an entire chapter dedicated to positions, with illustrations and a final FAQ that addresses questions readers may have after reading the book. As I mentioned, it’s a quick read because each chapter is only a few pages long. There’s also a lot of white space that accommodates for “Sadie Sez” asides. These blurbs highlight or stress things that Sadie wants the reader to remember. For example, slower is better or not to try to emulate porn, where warm-up is done off-screen. Mostly, the blurbs repeat content on the page, however. The line breaks between paragraphs are also quite white and on some pages there are warnings within a “Caution” sign, creating more empty space. The list goes on but, essentially, this book is even shorter than it looks and it looks short.

As I mentioned, the advice is pretty solid. I love how Sadie focuses on hygiene issues that allow you to feel more comfortable as does her general tone. However, her tone is extremely conversational, sometimes bordering on silly. There’s an entire page dedicated to the words and terms she is going to use instead of the actual clinical or official words for anatomy or activities. For example, it’s not “sphincter” but “O-rings” and she uses “pleasure inch” instead of “anal canal”. Dr Sadie reasons that some of these words sound unpleasant and, therefore, we should use friendlier terms, instead. I don’t necessarily mind “color” as slang for poop and terms like “rimming” and “licking” are readily accepted; however, if you can’t say “rectum” without giggling, maybe you shouldn’t be reading (or writing) this book.

There’s also a lot of conversational speaking to the reader and this sometimes feels as though they’re trying to make a book out of information that would only really fill a pamphlet. Similarly, the pictures feel a little amateur at times; however, they’re helpful in the positions chapter and I find the position suggestions to be creative and useful. Sometimes suggested positions come off as both unrealistic and uncomfortable. Dr Sadie also recommends which of these positions is better for persons of different heights and weights.

My last complaint is that Tickle My Tush doesn’t address material safety in terms of toys for anal sex. She says that no toy, finger or cock should enter the mouth or vagina after anal play and also recommends ways to keep juices/lube from finding its way into the vagina. Still, the book could do more with address porosity and using either condoms and toy covers for anal play. I’d really like to see Dr Sadie talk about how only non-porous toys are actually safe between holes because jelly and the like can harbor bacteria even after it’s been washed with soap and water. Silicone, glass and metal, at least, can be more thoroughly sterilized but I wouldn’t even use a non-porous material without bleaching or boiling first.

Although Tickle My Tush isn’t without its flaws, its approachable and I think many people who are uncomfortable or only just warming up to the idea of anal sex will find it useful. It could perhaps be read by couples who are venturing into new territory together but many experienced toy and anal players may want to skip this one.

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