January 10, 2006

Feelin' the vibes...

So, I was re-reading Issue 3, and I came across the page entitled "My Vibrator is Good ... But My Girlfriend Is Better." It reminded me of a story I've been meaning to post up here since summer break (oops).

For those of you who don't already know, my mom is nutty. Not in the harmless, wears-curlers-in-her-hair-to-the-supermarket sense, but in the freaky thinks-queerness-is-a-disease, stalks-my-significant-other sense. So when I went home for the end of summer (a mandatory visit), I needed a vibrator that would be discreet enough that she wouldn't think anything of it, since she would be guaranteed to go through my luggage in search of incriminating evidence of some sort. My choice? The "I Rub My Duckie" vibrator in the "Devil Duck" model (the middle one in this picture). It was cute, it was sassy, it had a beak and tail and horns that provided all sorts of interesting varieties of sensation ... and it looked like a rubber duckie. This was guaranteed to make bathtime lots of fun . . . and how could my mom object?

Everything went well until the last day of break, when I was packing up to leave for school. My mom found the duck. Her immediate comment: "Oh, this is cute! What is it?"

I gulped. "It's a rubber duckie. I bought it before I left Boston." She smiled and patted it on its little devil-head.

And then she dropped it. And as it hit the corner of the bathroom counter, it started to buzz.

My mom frowned. "What's it doing?"

I had to think fast, or my cover was blown and I could just as easily have bought something pink, sparkly, and phallic-rabbit-shaped and not worried about discretion at all.

"Well, the neat thing about the duckie is, it's also a massager." That is what the package says, you know: vibrating personal massager.

My mom's eyes lit up. We come from a very pro-massage family, and I learned from a very young age how to give good back and shoulder rubs using a variety of implements. So perhaps I should have known that when I told my mom I owned a vibrating personal massager, the very next thing out of her mouth would be:

"Will you give me a shoulder rub?"

I took a deep breath. Again, the key thing here was to keep my cool: this wasn't a mind-blowingly naughty sex toy deceptively disguised to pass under my mom's radar ... it was just a massager. Just a ... vibrating personal massager. I could hardly say no.

So I said yes.

And after I had finished rubbing my vibrator all up and down my mother's back and shoulders, all she could say was:

"Mmmm... that felt good!"


Poor duckie ... I never felt quite right using him on myself ever again.

6 comments:

The Mirrorball Man said...

OMFG! THAT IS HILARIOUS!!!

icarus said...

ahhhh.

that story gives me extreme joy and pleasure.

kind of like your mom.

xoxo.

JSmithua said...

Besides that story being amazing, that website has an amazing collection of decorative buttplugs... which I found quite intriguing... I think one of the rooms in my house should be buttplug-themed so that I can decorate it with the 'baroque' and 'horse tail' varieties. Amazing!

JSmithua said...

It's amazing how many times the word 'amazing' can be used in a blog comment. I couldn't think of any other word to describe these buttplugs besides AMAZING!

aurora said...

Wow.
Map props and lots of love...I just laughed really hard.

The WOTD is "cnhzkhsw," the Czech term for the persistent smell of the right hand of one who masturbates too often.

tea cozy said...

no such thing as too often, volant.