is a comic and video game nerd, freelance writer, and science enthusiast living in the Frozen Tundra with her cat (who likes to chew on silicone toys) while exploring sex and romance in her mid-30s! She prefers clitoral to vaginal stimulation, deep vibrations to buzzy ones, heavy conversation to small talk, chocolate to vanilla, and books to movies with few exceptions. Her bookshelf includes erotica and books about human sexuality and browser history always include research papers, which give her plenty of blog fodder!
It’s 2024, and everywhere you look on social media, it seems like people are speaking in code. In some places, people avoid using adjectives; in others, potentially violent words are censored. Sometimes, the effort to attempt to avoid your account or group being punished by site administrators is so great that I am surprised anyone bothers at all.
And it is not necessarily paranoia. I know plenty of people who have been shadow-banned, suspended, or permanently removed from social media sites.
I now frequently have my Facebook account limited if I laugh react a funny cat picture.
So I understand why the people and pages I follow will use “S3x” or “S-x” instead of sex because there’s a real risk that the content we post will catch the attention of some person or bot, and our accounts will be throttled if not entirely removed. Our hard work will be instantly deleted, and our reach diminished as we are forcibly disconnected from followers. What’s worse, our attempts to educate people about sexuality will be thwarted, and streams of income may be ripped from us.
There are very real consequences to not playing by the rules of our social media overlords.
And I hate it.
It’s not just that trying to read these posts becomes nearly impossible (and I cannot imagine how much more difficult it is for anyone using a screen reader!), which has forced some people to give up on spaces that enforce these rules.
Social media should not censor sex, not when they let rampant violence, harassment, and misogyny go unchecked, and especially not when lack of access to such information contributes to sexual assault, the spread of STIs, suicide, and other general misery.
Censoring sex actively harms people.
Yet, these sites do exactly that.
As much as we can try to diversify by starting a SubStack or Patreon or by joining BlueSky or Mastodon or one of the other overly hopeful replacements for the tech giants, they do not replace the reach offered by Instagram, Tiktok, Twitter, or, yes, even Facebook.
Sex bloggers, educators, and therapists are in good company with retailers, venues, certification providers, and others, none of whom feel safe using accurate words to describe their profession, products, or services. It is a spot between the sharpest rock and the hardest place.
And there’s no end in sight. In fact, the censorship only seems to have worsened since I first started this draft!
What is the end game in all of this?
Platforms that are so sanitized of sex that we lose decades of progress? Sex returning to the taboo shadows, so there is no hope of satisfying relationships, and pain becomes the norm once more? Difficulty finding legitimate sex education that leads people to risky sources? Funding cut from sexual research? Oh, wait.
I mean, I see it happening before my eyes. But I don’t want to believe it. And I can’t understand it because such a world harms everyone, even those who are pushing for it or who allow it to happen. Maybe they lack foresight, but I do not.
And my foresight tells me that we are on a slope that couldn’t be more slippery if we emptied a case of lube on it. Of course, this isn’t new, but it’s become impossible to ignore, much like all the creative expressions of the word “Sex” on social media practically scream at me.
Maybe, for a bit, these efforts will garner some attention because they’re so jarring. Or maybe people will learn to ignore them because what’s the point when you need to decrypt all the content on your feed? And what do we do when the tech overlords catch on and ban these workarounds? At what point will they have to draw the line? Will it be when censorship interferes with their profits? Or do we need a new sex-friendly platform with reasonable rules and allowances to take the world by storm? Is such a thing even possible?
I have so many questions and so few answers. I don’t know if anyone does.
But I do know that I don’t want to censor the word “Sex.” So, I won’t. Not here. Not on social media.
I recommend you sign up for email notifications (see the option in the sidebar) if you’re interested in reading about sex without censorship, should my failure to comply result in me being banned from social media.
I cannot believe Fun Factory has released three new versions of the Laya, and I have yet to wax poetic about its meaning in my life.
So why don’t I do that?
I have fond memories of using the original Laya Spot while sprawled sideways on my oversized armchair as Family Guy played in the background. I was in my San Antonio apartment, which I shared with my then-husband, who was, at the time, deployed. It was a difficult time in many ways, but I had my cats and a few trustworthy toys to get me three. Indeed, that was the year when I discovered I could squirt.
Much has changed since then: my relationship status, my pets, my location, and my education level, to name just a few. How often I use sex toys is also not the same. As it turns out, Fun Factory’s “lay on” vibrator isn’t the same, either. If you can believe it, they’re now on the fourth version of the Laya, although it’s the Laya III because one was just an iteration of the Laya II, which I had things to say about.
Laya III is a noticeably different toy from these previous options. The new light teal (which Fun Factory calls “Sage Green” but is definitely not) or lavender options remind me more of the original’s colors than either of the Laya II revamps. Folks might not remember, but the Laya Spot came in a variety of dual-color combinations. It was fun, if not financially feasible in the long run. However, Fun Factory has done away entirely with the contrasting side panels, instead opting for an allover color. This makes it a seamless toy, however.
Another change comes in the texture, which is now diagonally ribbed along the top and sides of the toy–everywhere but the place where it will make contact with your clitoris. To be honest, I’m not sure that this achieves much other than aesthetics. I suppose if your hands are full of lube, it might be easier to grasp, but I did not typically use lube with clitoral toys, and if your fingers were that coated, they would slip right off the smooth buttons.
As for the silicone itself, it’s more velvety and has less drag. It’s not a lint magnet like the Laya Black Line, which my pictures clearly show. I swear, there is no way to remove lint from this thing, but that is, fortunately, not an issue carried over to the Laya III. Of course, the hard plastic of the original didn’t attract lint, so it’s nice not to have to worry about this again.
I still don’t know if I really like the placement of these buttons, but I think that’s a me problem. The bubble design from the Laya II carried over, meaning it’s far easier to press than those on the original Laya Spot. However, I just don’t love them. Truthfully, I want something bigger, flatter, and just… impossible to miss. I’ve spent too much time using vibrators to fumble for the controls that are less than obvious.
But what about the vibrations controlled by those buttons? A side-by-side comparison of the Laya III and Black Line Laya shows that the Black Line’s lowest level of vibrations is stronger, but it has fewer (3) levels of steady vibrations than the Laya III. The highest level seems about the same on both, so the change in the Laya III’s 5 levels is more incremental, something that is absolutely not needed. That makes it bizarre that they toute these unnecessary incremental changes as a customizable experience.
And while the vibrations on the highest setting are similar, they are not identical. The Black Line’s vibrations feel more targeted, although “pinpoint” wouldn’t be accurate. The Laya III feels chaotically diffused in contrast. I actually prefer the Black Line, a toy that previously left me incredibly disappointed. When you consider that the Laya II is stronger than the Black Line, it’s clear that Laya III’s motor is a step backyard.
Y’all, I gotta be honest, I didn’t look much into the Laya III before I tried it. I saw the name, and I wanted it. I completely missed the fact that the motor apparently vibrates and taps until I watched the video after starting this review. And if that’s supposed to be true, I literally cannot feel it. It feels like marketing BS, and I hate typing that.
This is where I also admit that I didn’t realize the texture is supposed to hold lube with the suggestion that you can use either end of the Laya III for pinpoint stimulation. But we’ve already established that the vibrations feel more diffuse at the stronger end than previous of the toy, so there’s no way the weaker end will somehow feel more targeted.
So, really, why did Fun Factory make this toy?
Or, rather, why didn’t they just promote a previous iteration of the Laya that showed how it could be versatile? Because I think it has always deserved more love than it got, and there was no need to improve upon a perfectly good design once they upgraded to a rechargeable motor with decent strength.
Barring a drastic change, I think we got the best Laya we’re going to get our hands on a few years ago. Of course, not everyone has a previous version, so the Laya III isn’t a terrible option for them. After all, if you don’t know what you’re missing, how can you miss it? Some folks might swoon over Laya III, especially if they don’t have much to compare it to, but we’re long past the days of the original, which cost less than $50.
As a lifelong leftie, I’ve struggled to use scissors and pens that cause pain (and don’t even get me started on how being short makes it all that much worse!). And while I can now buy (often for a higher price) counterparts that promise not to hurt my hand, but there’s still one area without any consideration for handedness: sex toys.
For the most part, no sex toys are handed, unless of course, you count those finger vibrators. Their controls are typically centered along the handle or base (unless they’re even more ridiculously inaccessible), which I do not find particularly intuitive, especially when it comes to changing settings in use because I cannot see them and sometimes can’t even reach them. No one loves having to stop using a toy just to turn up the vibrations! Yet, companies have failed to produce vibrators and other powered sex toys that truly reflect the fact that, most of the time during use, our hands are not neatly grasping the base of the toy. Instead, they point down, come from an angle, or are upside down–or all three.
What makes this even more frustrating is that the answer is right there: thumbs! Most of us have two that aren’t entirely occupied by holding a toy and are in a better position to access the controls than our other fingers. However, those centered buttons at a toy’s base aren’t quite what we need to make vibrators more user-friendly or, perhaps, ergonomic. Companies really need to go back to square one when it comes to positioning their controls.
Don’t get me wrong, some companies have tried other things. JeJoue Mimi and Mimi Soft have buttons on the butt of the toy, and the now defunct We-Vibe Wish did something similar (see also: the Scoop). But being able to do that with clit stimulators doesn’t help with insertable toys, which may be long enough that we can’t reach controls on the very base of the toy, let alone do so with enough dexterity to use them how we want.
MysteryVibe was thinking outside of the box with their Crescendo, and I don’t mean just because of the bendable shaft. They placed two buttons on each side of the shaft to make it easier to power on and off and move through settings. If you’re righthanded, your thumb will press the button I would press while holding it with my index and vice versa, but it’s a step in the right direction.
Similarly, if you can get over (or if you enjoy) the bulky, body-fluid-grabbing faux gems on Jopen’s Pavé Grace, the button placement is probably the best I’ve ever seen on a clit stimulator. It’s so intuitive and natural that as soon as I used it, I wondered what the hell we’d been doing to this point, especially because all of my mobile devices have similarly placed volume buttons–not to mention my TV remote. I’m not sure how much that challenged design and production, but I sure as hell appreciate the step we’ve taken toward an ergonomic vibrator.
We just need to close our eyes and take a giant leap that involves saying a permanent “Goodbye” to those centered buttons on the top or base of a powered sex toy.
But that introduces a slight problem of handedness. The folks at Cal Exotics opted to put the buttons on Grace’s left side so that righthanded folks could easily access them with their thumb. I’ve got slightly less-than-ideal access with my index finger as a leftie. It’s usable but not flawless. Of course, it makes sense to opt for that button placement as righthanded folks make up the vast majority of the population, and it’s already such an improvement over most controls I really shouldn’t be complaining.
But that doesn’t mean that there isn’t something in my little heart that wants a lefthanded sex toy with perfectly placed buttons where my thumb can reach them for uninterrupted stimulation. It’s not realistic for companies to make two variations of every vibrator, nor do I suspect that putting buttons on opposite sides of a toy would be a practical and affordable solution. But I can dream, can’t I?
I don’t think it’s a complete pipedream that sex toy makers might focus on comfort to elevate their products and brands, but maybe I should pester Roku into making a vibrator in the meantime.
The folks at Fun Factory are including the brand-new Laya III, the newest version of one of my favorite clitoral vibes, in this sale, too! It’s significantly under $100 at $76! It’s a great time to save and try a new vibrator, which I will soon review. Rest assured that I can already say that I prefer it over the Laya II.
Plus, it’s such an interesting shade of pale blue, which I am sure some of you will appreciate. And even if Laya isn’t your cup of tea, Fun Factory’s sale is sure to have something for everyone.
I’ve received a few scammy spam messages identical to the one above this week. It’s not the first time I’ve opened my inbox to such messages, and I’m sure it won’t be the last, either. In fact, I almost missed it because Thunderbird correctly marked it as spam.
What you cannot see is that the sender appears to be me. To the average person, this might lend credence to the threat. Previous versions have included real passwords that became exposed rather than claiming to use some “Remote Administration Tool” malware to record the user and it has not always appeared to come from my email account, but the sentiment remains the same.
Some people know it as a Sextortion Email Scam, although many victims would likely not know if this is a common type of scam or what it’s called. Ignoring the fact that people may fall for the messages because they do not understand how easily scammers can spoof any email address, including their own, and how their efforts become untraceable by using Bitcoin, I find these scam messages to be an interesting lens through which we can understand society.
The scammers make several assumptions about their victims:
They have masturbated
Kinkily
While at their computers
Which have working cameras
That are connected to the Internet
Several of these assumptions are likely to be true. After all, many people masturbate, and most devices have integrated cameras.
Perhaps most interesting is the assumption that anyone would pay to prevent their loved ones from accessing evidence of their sexuality, so much so that their worry would prevent them from checking whether the message is a scam. I am sure this is occasionally true. I’ve received similar messages for years, and scammers only need to trick one unsuspecting recipient for their effort to pay off.
Yet I cannot help but think about how the threat wouldn’t be effective if we did not live in a culture that shames and censors sexuality. If we recognized our inherent sexual natures in all their variety, messages like this would have little power. Sure, it might be uncomfortable if someone in our address books saw us in a sexually precarious position, just like it can be awkward to walk in on our parents having sex, but it shouldn’t be the end-of-the-world scenario as this spam suggests.
Greater than 99% of all people exist because someone else had sex, and we all recognize that sex can be pleasurable. The time and effort people spend pretending otherwise isn’t just unnecessary, it’s entirely misguided. And the attempts to deny others their sexuality is harmful in more ways than one. From slut shaming to barring comprehensive and inclusive sex education, we live in a world where sex doesn’t get the respect it deserves.
So, it’s no surprise that spammers might use sexuality as an angle to scam people out of money. But it is incredibly frustrating that sexuality is still so powerfully attached to shame in 2023.
Lately, my attention has been directed toward an attempt at censorship in my own public library. As far as I can tell, someone was offended when they discovered that the library carried a sex education book for teens and demanded the book’s approval. A year later, critics are still pressuring the library, this time to implement a reading system to ensure children are not exposed to “smut” and “pornography.” I doubt any of these people have read the book from cover to cover.
Perhaps it’s no surprise. The call to ban and censor books doesn’t seem to be losing any steam, and homophobia and transphobia seem to be the fuel this time around. They want to “protect the children,” or so they claim. Except they ignore the risks that not providing age-appropriate sex education poses. I’m not wringing my hands about make-believe consequences. A lack of comprehensive, science-based, sex-positive education has already made a drastic negative impact on our world, and we need look no further than sexual assault statistics to see this.
Not providing age-appropriate sex education, which should begin earlier than many people are willing to recognize, means that by the time you teach your children about sex, some may already be victims of assault–and some may be perpetrators. Children may encounter sexual abuse before puberty and spend a lifetime dealing with repercussions that range from drug use to major depression.
By teaching children that they have bodily autonomy that others should respect, you give them permission to say “No” when someone attempts otherwise and the knowledge that they are not at fault and can seek help if someone violates those boundaries. This knowledge is especially important because abusers are most often known to the victim, possibly being a family member, and those people may manipulate those relationships to successfully abuse children. No one wants to consider that someone they deemed safe around their child(ren) is anything but. Yet even less, parents and caregivers don’t want their children to experience repeated abuse at the hands of someone who has convinced their victims that it’s acceptable or, even worse, that they will be in trouble if they tell someone about it. Ensuring your children that they can come to you if someone violates their sexual boundaries is part of sex education. But it’s only useful if children understand how bodily autonomy and sex work–and if they can use words
Assault isn’t the only risk associated with inadequate sex education: unwanted pregnancies and pregnancies are avoidable consequences. Decades of abstinence-only education proves how ineffective it is to simply say, “Don’t do this.” For most people, sexual desire comes naturally. It’s how human beings have lasted this long, after all. Failing to accept that doesn’t change anything; it simply makes it more likely that your child does not take proper precautions during their early sexual experimentation.
We can also greatly reduce how many people, especially women, experience painful sex and how long it takes to seek help, potentially identifying significant health concerns, by treating sexuality as a topic worthy of education. In fact, abstinence-only education that only paints the risks of sex can contribute to the anxiety that is symptomatic of vaginismus, which causes vaginal pain and may require therapy or other interventions.
People also overlook the consequences of not teaching people that they deserve to have mutually satisfying interactions with people. While it may be difficult to imagine your child all grown up, they won’t stay young forever. Don’t you want them to one day be able to enjoy sexual and romantic relationships rather than being unable to do so because they never learned that their pleasure and desires matter? We all too often see people settling, selling themselves short, and sacrificing necessarily in these relationships.
Finally, we cannot ignore that lack of inclusive sex education can be an issue of life or death. How much do people hide of themselves if they’re worried about being judged for who they are when they could discover who they are and spaces where they are celebrated instead? Sex education may not entirely erase homophobia or transphobia, but it can mitigate some homophobic bullying. We don’t need to live in a world help people who are at risk of dying by suicide or might otherwise suffer greatly go without help.
I know that some people will argue. Maybe they believe children should learn about sex at home and not in schools. Yet I recognize that few parents have received sex education that will prepare them to do so, and talking about sex is hard. We struggle to do so with partners in our bedrooms, let alone with younger minds who may be more interested in anything else than talking about sex with their parents. Why not ensure access to books that can supplement whatever sex education children receive and perhaps encourage them to talk about it with their parents as some books recommend?
I thought about ending this post here because while it will already make waves, it’s rather gentle. I’m only calling on people who want to protect their children to consider the ways barring them from information might actually harm them. Perhaps some people will consider the arguments and conclude that their child’s well-being and life is more important than their discomfort. I certainly hope so.
But if we’re all being honest, it’s not about protecting the children. At least, not from real harm. It’s about preventing them from seeing that gay and trans folks exist and can do so happily and healthily because you cannot muster tolerance let alone love for your neighbor. At best, these people don’t want their children to “get ideas” about these new-fangled gender and sexual identities, even though we’ve been studying them for over a century and literal Nazis attempted to bar the same information. Even though people have questioned their genders and sexualities well before they knew anyone else who did the same or had the words to describe their feelings. Even though being accepted by one person reduces the risk that a trans person will die by suicide.
Even the best-case scenario, in which a person isn’t actively spewing hate toward gender and sexual minorities, is frustrating. While being fine with “those people” as long as they don’t have to see evidence that those people exist (i.e., “not in my front yard”), it’s that attitude that makes some other people think it’s okay to harass and assault people who identify differently. We are in times where remaining quiet is just as bad as condoning this behavior, especially when so many people are vocally hateful. It’s no wonder so many anti-LGBTQ bills are being proposed–and passed.
I guess murder and torture are okay if you’re convinced the victim is going to hell, anyway. We’ll ignore the hypocrisy of the self-righteousness that harms others. You only need to love your children as long as they meet your expectations. The golden rule only applies to those who think and look like you. Spreading hate is acceptable as long as it’s your hate.
That is the real goal–to control how people think by preventing access to alternative ideas. Children often do learn these lessons, even if it means hating themselves. But many people also unlearn homophobia and transphobia, even becoming staunch allies if they themselves are straight or cisgender. The renewed fervor to do so only reflects how difficult it has become to control information in the age of the Internet (with some significant caveats). You can try to filter everything your child sees, hears, or reads but it’s going to require constant effort and, usually, isolation.
Squeezing your iron fist tighter to retain control is rarely successful. You cannot control your children’s every thought or action. Attempting to do so often results in rebellion, which may and sometimes complete rejection of your relationship. Undoubtedly, many will come to regret their actions upon facing the real consequences. But it will be too little too late. Time will be lost, and there’s not making up for it. For those who suffer under the hateful bigotry, the damage is already done.
Maybe there’s a way to reach the people who would rather not look back on a missed opportunity to be kind and have relationships with their children. I sure hope so. Because it doesn’t have to be this way. We can protect kids, including from our own shortcomings.
Pardon the clickbaity title. It’s what the Internet wants, and I’m just along for the ride.
A couple of months ago, I wrote an article for work that was clearly inspired by the latest TikTok trend du jour: boric acid. After looking at the videos, it was incredibly apparent that
A manufacturer of boric acid was sending free product to influencers.
They were specifically targeting Black creators–and their readers.
They were not checking the videos for accuracy.
Perhaps more importantly, it was obvious to me that viewers did not necessarily realize this. They saw real posts instead of ads marketing scams. I know exactly how this works. Dozens of sex toy makers have sent me toys, but I always gave honest reviews, even if it meant criticizing a product or company or discouraging sales that would have earned me commissions. I have also spent literal years studying sexuality to ensure what I say is accurate and helpful.
This isn’t the case with the influences I saw on TikTok. Viewers saw videos touting the benefits of boric acid to help you feel cleaner and smell better, disregarding the fact that boric acid is only sometimes recommended for persistent bacterial infections because it is as toxic to healthy cells as much as unhealthy ones. Used unwisely, boric acid can make you more prone to infections.
But there were no warnings or advice to seek medical advice to determine whether a problem even existed at all, let alone whether boric acid might be a solution. There was a lot of covert body shaming, which douche makers (read that how you will) have always relied on.
In short, the practice was misleading and disgusting, and no one seemed to be calling it out.
The risks don’t stop there, either.
Both the quantity and quality of BDSM content on TikTok have some kinksters worried. It’s easy to find, ignores the important aspects of communication and safety, and may even violate the viewer’s consent. You can learn how to tie rope around wrists or make restraints out of a belt but not about the importance of preventing rope from slipping or avoiding nerve damage. You can easily find fake dominants but not mentors to steer you away from red flags. And none of this content is barred from minors.
This isn’t to say that that aren’t plenty of informed and experienced folks on TikTok spreading the good word. There absolutely are! Some of these folks love being on KinkTok. But as the great Sunny Megatron points out, popularity reigns over education and quality. I’ve heard plenty of sex educators talk about their experiences. TikTok inconsistently bans sexual content, so users have to worry about that on top of trying to make the algorithm work for them.
It’s not just sex, either. It takes half an hour for teens to stumble upon self-harm content on TikTok. Nor is the potential for harm specific to TikTok or even social media. People have sustained injuries after being inspired by 50 Shades. Every site with a blog that relates even tangentially to sexuality includes information about potentially risky sexual and kinky activities, most of which is written by people with no experience (and much that is distilled down to near uselessness).
Yet TikTok, with its short videos that are viewed almost entirely on mobile devices for free without age requirements, makes this information much more accessible to anyone and everyone without leaving room for all the caveats that go with it. Plenty of safety information can be found online, and some of it even exists on TikTok. But our shortened attention spans and the algorithms make it harder to find and absorb–if we even recognize the need for more information, to begin with!
I learned pretty much everything I know about kink and BDSM from the Internet–and much of what I know about sex. I’m old school, however. I would rather read a blog post or book–and have read thousands of pages on the subject–than watch a 10-second video. My knowledge, more often than not, came from seasoned kinksters.
I probably wouldn’t say the same if I were 15 or even 10 years younger. The internet, as it stands, is the only internet many people have ever known. It didn’t have to be and maybe doesn’t have to be still. But it is. TikTok could change if it wanted to, and a notable death and lawsuit would probably cause that. But it shouldn’t have to come to that. People should just care.
In the meantime, care for yourself because no one else will. Look beyond TikTok for information that will protect your safety. Direct a hefty dose of skepticism to anyone who doesn’t mention safety, on TikTok or anywhere else. Proceed with caution. Your health, your livelihood, and your life might depend on it.
is a blog about my personal sex (and love) life with posts to help educate you about sex, toys, relationships and more! I always aim to entertain the masses. Stay tuned for more sex toys reviews, smutty giveaways and some erotica of my own here and there!
The reviews on this website include items I have received in return for my opinion. I do not endorse any product that I do not believe to be beneficial to my readers nor do I sugarcoat my experiences. Love or hate a product or service, you will know it--honestly.