Last week, I found myself ducking into the doors of a downtown adult store with my best friend, beelining for the back so we wouldn’t get carded at the door (I promise we’re of age, she just forgot her ID!) She had asked me to come along with her to help her pick out a bottle of lubricant and I, insufferable sex know-it-all that I am, was thrilled to go along. We found what we came for quickly and then we started to browse this rowdy, product-stuffed store for fun.
It had been more than a year since I had walked around that particular store, partially due to COVID, but mostly due to the fact that I try to spend my money at other local stores before this one. For one thing, we were bothered by another customer, who tried to interrupt our conversation to ask pervy questions. Even after I told him off, he was never more than an aisle away from us, listening to our conversation, which the local queer-owned shop I typically choose instead would never allow. Besides all that, this place has a massive metal box in the middle of its sales floor with a loud, gaudy animatronic homage to racism against southeast Asian people that invites you to get your fortune at top volume every couple of minutes. Minneapolis locals know what’s up. The biggest thing this store has going for it is selection– the inventory at this place is vast. So I find myself shopping there sometimes when I’m in a pinch.
Unfortunately, I think the variety of stock is to blame for the assault my eyeballs endured on this visit to the sex store. I found a number of things I was interested by, a couple of things I’d been dreaming of buying, and lots of things I’d rather not try. But I was especially struck by this magnificent piece of garbage.
What the actual fuck is this?
That’s a rhetorical question, for my poor eyes tell me everything I need to know about this toy. I used to sell something like this toy in the early days of my adult retail career. It was the same principle, except… without the penetrative feature. It was a vibrator that strapped on and provided stimulation to the clitoris, and as a cute feature, it was shaped like a butterfly.
How the hell did we get from that pretty decent original design to this monstrosity? If they had to add a penetrative feature to the original vibrator, why couldn’t it have been less realistically-shaped? Why the ever-loving fuck would you put a veiny, realistic cock on the underside of a butterfly?
Don’t get me wrong, I’m usually pretty into the way the butterfly shape is integrated into toy design, because butterflies are pretty, the shape of their body, wings, and antennae are kind of ideal for clitoral stimulation, and hell, my first-ever toy was the B*tterfly Kiss by Shmal Shmexotics, which I still stand by as a good first choice, but being older and wiser now, I would shell out a couple extra bucks for silicone if I were to buy it again. But this… is indefensible.
Imagine you’re sitting in a field. You’re in a long dress and a floppy hat. I don’t care what gender you are, roll with me. You’re sitting atop a picnic blanket and the wind plucks gently at your hair, and ripples the grass around you. A fluttering motion attracts the attention of your eye! You turn, delighted, because the only thing that could make this moment more peaceful and idyllic would be a delicate butterfly passing over you and your picnic.
You turn to look, and the butterfly has a truly honking sausage cannon dangling off its underside. A real whopper of a wang. Okay, wait, you guess the dick itself isn’t all that huge, it’s only a couple of inches long, but it is gargantuan compared to the size of the butterfly struggling to keep itself and its throbbing dong airborne. You probably don’t even have time to think that hard about it, since the trauma you incurred by seeing a butterfly with a sizeable erect human penis has immediately caused you to lose your mind and your memory. You pass out, come to, see the dickerfly (butterdick?) once more, and lose consciousness again.
Here’s my personal problem:
This is definitely one of the worst things I’ve ever seen. I am deeply offended by its existence. It is shocking and horrifying. And, unfortunately, due to the fact that I have truly terrible taste… I kind of love it.
I’m a big fan of camp, B-movies, corny things, hokey things, and ugly things. I don’t personally understand it, but it’s true. The more I roast this hideous toy, the more I fall in love with it. I do not want it enough to spend my own money on it, because that feels like losing to the makers of the toy, who thought making this was a good idea. It was not. It was a very bad idea. But it was an idea so bad, it now enjoys spacious rooms and luxurious amenities in my mind.
If I owned this toy, I might try using it for its intended purpose. If I enjoyed it, I would swallow my pride and it would join my toy drawer. But more likely than not, it’s going to turn into home decor, because I like to decorate my abode in ways that discourage family members from ever coming to visit me, and The Butterdick is exactly the kind of silicone sculpture I want sitting upon my hearth, watching over me and my pets.
Happy weekend. I don’t have any wisdom for you today other than to rant about the Butterdick, and you’ve been a real sport for reading this through. Please stay tuned though, because I have some incredibly hot content on its way to my Onlyfans subscribers. If you’re not yet convinced to subscribe, I’m betting the scorching hot photos attached to next week’s 5 Lazy Sex Positions might have you subscribing so you can have access to the naked, XXX versions!
XO,
Kay
