“Wait. Are they stuck?” I asked, as I felt myself slip in and out of consciousness.
“Yeah…I, uh, I think so,” he said from down below, as he peered into my vagina with fear and concern.
Just an FYI: The moment a guy looks at your vagina with anything other than pure amazement, you know you’re in trouble. I tried to make eye contact with him as my vision went fuzzy. Thanks to a recent fifty shades of bad ideas novel, I had some big, metal balls wedged so far up my body, I was pretty sure that I was digesting them.
Why does this shit always happen to me? Apparently, having the most awkward threesome ever hadn’t been embarrassing enough.
This whole thing started with Mr. Grey and his erotic ideas. Like every other horny, red-blooded, American female, I devoured all fifty shades of Christian Grey’s sexual stories like fucking candy. They were easy to read and even easier to hold with one hand, while I worked a vibrator with the other. The only problem was, once they were over, I wanted more. So much more, in fact, that I took it upon myself to spice up my own sex life. The chains, whips, and the idea of making my boyfriend do what I say completely excited me. Yeah, I wanted in on this whole kinky sex thing. So I said goodbye to my vibrator and hello to the world of Bondage and Discipline, Dominance and Submission (BDSM).
BDSM Tip 1: Fifty Shades of Grey Is Not A “How To” Guide
Like, at all.
I approached my boyfriend hesitantly. Despite what we learned in literature, it’s actually sort of awkward to ask a guy to tie you up and treat you like shit in the bedroom. I figured, what the hell? At some point in every girl’s life, there comes a time when she asks for BDSM, right? I waited until we were both relaxed (drunk) one night, and then I threw the kinky sex-bomb at him.
“Hey, so…do you think we could try something? During the sex…the sexuals? Can you, like, you know. Spank me? In bed. I mean, like, dominate me?”
From the look on his face, I could tell that he had no idea what the fuck I was talking about. His eyes widened as he started scooting away from me on the couch. Shit. This was going to be more embarrassing than I thought. I promptly hid my face in a pillow, and with a muffled voice, said, “You know, like, handcuffs and whips and, uh…stuff?”
Yeah, it didn’t have the best ring to it, but I got my point across. And since he’s a guy with a penis, he was completely on board. Unfortunately, I was completely unprepared. I really had no idea what BDSM was all about, so as soon as we walked into a sex store, I instantly started blushing and staring at the floor. What do you get? Handcuffs? Too ordinary. Every college slut has had a pair of fuzzy, pink handcuffs at some point in her career. A ball gag? Eh, my gag reflex was already too responsive. Plus, I had this crippling fear that it would make my chin look fat.
BDSM Tip 2: Know Your Shit
Do some research before going into a sex shop. Once you enter, you’ll be so overwhelmed by the sights, scents, and fake vaginas that you’ll have no idea what to grab. Before you know it, you’ll be snagging up a bottle of lube and…
“Sex balls!” I shouted a little too loudly.
“What? Shhh…” my embarrassed lesser half asked, as he walked over to me.
“You know, the balls? For my vagina! From the book!”
In case you’re not a (sometimes) sexually active twenty-something girl who lives vicariously through erotic fiction, “sex balls” are also known by their actual name, Ben Wa balls. Basically, they’re giant metal balls that are shoved up the vagina to increase strength and libido. Even though literally nothing about putting giant spheres in my vag sounded sexy to me, it worked in the book, so I figured they would work for me. I had to have them in my vagina, and I had to have them now.
BDSM Tip 3: There’s A Reason It’s Called “Fiction.”
As in “not real.” As in “don’t necessarily trust it.” As in “sex balls might not work out the way you think they will.”
I ripped them out of the package as soon as we got home and stared at them with wonder. These balls held my future. My friends would forever be asking me for sex tips. Guys would think I was a goddess. I’d star in the Fifty Shades movies. Will I sign autographs for that? Or is that, like, prostitution?
“Hey, what’s that?” my boyfriend asked, as he pointed at a strap, connecting the balls.
“I don’t know. Who cares?” I said. Did it matter? He was really ruining my vibe. Here I was was, halfway into my own Fifty Shades fantasy, and he decided to ruin it with questions?
“It says that the strap assists in removal for beginners. Because your Kegel muscles are too weak? What’s that? Kegel?” He asked, as he read the instructions. Yeah. I was about to have BDSM sex with a guy who was “reading the instructions.” God, this was getting lame.
“Ew, I don’t know. Like, vagina muscles. Whatever, take off the strap. My vagina is, like, really strong.”
BDSM Tip 4: Don’t Take Off The Strap
You’re a beginner. Accept it. Your vagina will thank you.
After putting on my BDSM playlist (which was just a lot of techno Taylor Swift) I stripped down and held the foreign objects that would soon be inside me. Jesus, they were heavy. I turned to my boyfriend with a “want to give me a hand” look on my face, but I could tell he wasn’t about it.
“This is too fucking weird. You do it.”
Off to a really great start. Whatever, I had this. I took a deep breath and proceeded to lose my metal ball virginity. It was how I always imagined: hunched over in a dorm room, panting, with my fingers up my vagina. Shockingly (or not, depending on how much usage your vagina gets) it was easier than you’d think. They slid right inside of me and instantly gave me the weirdest feeling ever. Imagine putting some heavy, orgasm-inducing eggs inside of your body and just letting them roll around in there. It was like that, but not at all. Every move I made made the balls clink against each other, sending shivers up my spine. I turned to my boyfriend, feeling bionic with the metal inside of me, and planted a seductive kiss on his neck. I felt the excitement rush through his body, and I saw his penis grow, thanks to the anticipation.
Uh, hello? More like Fifty Shades of Me.
He eased his fingers deep inside of me and I felt him touch one of the balls, creating the biggest vibration yet. I moaned out in ecstasy. The more he touched them, the better it felt, but subsequently, the deeper they went. But who the fuck cared? More! Deeper! How deep? Balls deep, bitch. This lasted for about thirty seconds, because unfortunately, he’s a guy and he wanted to do more than play with the toys that were wedged up my vag. He reached for his pants with a “What now?” expression on his face. Wait. Shit. Can I have sex with these in? I couldn’t really grab my phone and do a quick Google search, so I figured, what the hell? It worked out for the people in the book, right? I pressed my body against his, and from the look in his eye, he knew that we were about to get this ball sex rolling.
BDSM Tip 5: Plan Ahead
If you don’t, you’ll end up messing up. Like, “putting too much stuff up your vagina” messing up. A good way to remember this is to just not stick stuff up your vag and then stick more stuff up there. That’s just basic anatomy.
Unfortunately, I didn’t know basic anatomy. Suddenly, I was on all fours as he eased up inside of me. It almost felt too good. The sheer amount of “stuff” in my body made me feel full and hit every nerve ending inside my lady cave. He groaned as his erection rubbed against the metal balls inside my body. That was the moment when I realized that I was the next Christian Grey.
I mean, here I was, face down, ass up, making a guy feel so good with just my body. Well, my body and the metal balls. Wait. The balls? The balls! I tried to pinpoint where exactly they were in my body, but…I couldn’t.
“Wait. Stop. STOP. Where are they? Where are the balls?” I asked, my head still shoved against the pillow, while I peeked at him from under my own ass.
“What? In there, right?” he muttered, mid-thrust.
“No, I fucking know. But where in my vagina?” I yelled, as I rolled away from him.
“Oh, I don’t know, I couldn’t really feel them anymore.”
He couldn’t really feel them anymore. He couldn’t feel the giant, metal balls. They were lost. In my (petite, if I do say so myself) vagina. That’s it. It was official: My life was over.
BDSM Tip 6: Be Cool
Just relax. You can’t actually lose things in there. Well, except your dignity.
This was around the time when I started hyperventilating. Sure, I’d thought that maybe I would lose the balls at some point, but I figured they would fall out of my purse and a child would pick them up. I didn’t think I would lose them in my own vagina. That’s just fucking irresponsible. So, I did what any girl would do in this situation. I started panicking. I immediately stood up and tried to push the balls out with my vagina. You know, using those Kegel muscles that I was sure were strong enough. They didn’t budge. I felt angry tears pour out of my eyes as I started jumping up and down.
“Here, lie down, I’ll, uh, help,” my boyfriend piped up, as the blood drained from his face.
Help? How the fuck could he help? I lay down, feeling a mixture of nausea and embarrassment, as he lowered his face to my lady parts. He slowly eased his hand inside of me, and it was in that moment that I knew our relationship was doomed. I mean, he went from boyfriend to gyno in about thirty seconds. It just got weird.
“So they’re, like, all the way up here,” he said, as his finger brushed the inside of my belly button.
I’m pretty sure that’s when I officially blacked out. I spent the next hour researching, crying, and swearing off BDSM forever. Finally, I gave up on trying and started drinking. Eventually, the balls came out. “Eventually” as in the next night. Something about gravity. What goes in the vagina must come out — or something like that. As for the boyfriend? We broke up a few weeks later. We didn’t say it was because of the sex ball incident, but let’s be real: When you’ve had your arm up a girl’s vagina looking for lost toys, well, things can’t really be the same after that.
BDSM Tip 7: It Might Not Work Out
Both the sex and the BDSM relationship. In the books, they end up happily ever after, but in real life, eh. You might not. Unfortunately, there are some things you can’t undo, unsee, or unstick up your vagina. That doesn’t mean you shouldn’t give it a try — just don’t take off the safety strap.
And in case you were wondering, yes. I gave the Ben Wa balls back to him. I mean, I am a lady, after all. Besides, there’s nothing like handing a little baggie to an ex and saying, “Here are your balls back.”.
Image via Shutterstock
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