WARNING: This post includes graphic descriptions.
As told to Zoe Simmons.
I am TRAUMATISED.
A few weeks ago, I decided to buy myself a treat—a toy, to be exact. You know: a special toy. I’d seen it being raved about in a lot of women’s groups online. And when my best friend bought one and gave it a 10 out of 10 rating, I thought: why not?
Mum, Dad, other family members: if you’re reading this, STOP NOW.
It’s the first toy I’ve bought in four years—so understandably, I was nervous. And skeptical. Out of all of the men I’ve slept with, none of them were able to get me off. If a human man with years of experience and lots of practice couldn’t do it, what hope did a little rechargeable toy have?
Mum, I mean it. STOP READING. GO BACK. YOU SHALL NOT PASS.
But boy, was I wrong. I came three times in five minutes on my first go. The toy is honestly heaven. I saw God; we’re on good terms. He’s happy for me and for all the thousands of other women enjoying themselves with this magical device.
It became a nightly ritual I’d look forward to. I’d done it. I’d replaced the need for a man with a $70 toy off the internet. Until one night, things went VERY wrong.
This is a toy for the clitoris. It vibrates, and allegedly mimics the feelings of really good oral (can’t confirm, have never had good oral. Sorry past boyfriends).
Like any other night, I’d charged it and was ready to go. I lit a candle. I closed my door. And I began.
Then I felt a sharp pain.
I didn’t think much of it. And when I felt wetness, I thought it was a good thing. Until I lifted it away and saw blood EVERYWHERE.
It was a truly horrifying moment.
At first, I thought I’d gotten my period, and that somehow had gotten all over the toy. But I wasn’t due, and it was not coming from the area.
The stinging pain intensified, and some toilet paper confirmed my fears: the toy had TORN MY CLIT.
Ouch, ouch, ouch, ouch, OUCH!
Panicked, I messaged my friends.
“SOS,” I wrote. “I BROKE MYSELF!”
I sent it along with a picture of my now least favourite toy. Their reactions were the same as mine:
“WHAT THE F***?!”
“Is your clitoris still attached?”
Some of my less helpful friends took a completely different approach and pissed themselves laughing at my dilemma.
“How do you even do that?!” They asked.
I had NO IDEA. I was crying and freaking out I’d need to go to hospital (I am dramatic, ultimately it was just a cut).
Even worse, there was no warning label that this was a possibility anywhere. Not on the box, not on the instructions, and not online. If a toy can literally tear you open, I’m pretty sure there should be a warning label for that.
I’ve heard horror stories before about women buying knock-off brands, and getting their clitoris stuck inside the toy, and having to go to hospital to get it removed. But I didn’t buy a knock-off: I bought the genuine article. So, what the heck happened?
I sent a rather panicked (probably hilarious) email to the supplier at 1.30am in the morning. I was not happy—and I wasn’t using it any different to normal.
When you’re settling down to a nice me-time session, breaking yourself is the LAST thing you expect.
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Now, I have a broken clit, a bloody toy, and a perpetual fear of other toys doing the same. I also can’t do anything with myself until it heals. Probably going to die. Remember me — but not for breaking myself during masturbation.
Maybe I do need men after all.
Mum, I really hope you listened to me and didn’t read this.