Firstoff- what is silicone anyhow? Silicone is a chemically-inert mixed organic-inorganic polymer compound typically comprised of silicon, carbon, hydrogen, and oxygen. For the science nerds out there (or those who just like to be technically correct), silicones are more precisely called polymerized siloxanes or polysiloxanes and have the backbone chemical composition of [R₂SiO]_n. Due to the variability  in the length of this backbone chain, it’s organic groups, and how they crosslink, silicone can take on a wide array of consistencies from fluids and gels, to rubbers or hard plastics.

What does that mean? It means it’s an awesome material that can come in a lot of textures which is non-toxic, is non-reactive and is not prone to microbial growth. In the sex utensil world there are generally two main forms of silicone which you’re likely to find: silicone oils (lube) and silicone rubber (utensils).

I won’t go super in-depth into silicone oils in the form of lube here, as that’s fodder a different post entirely, but there are a few things to mention. Silicone can be found in lubes, in pure-silicone and in hybrid water-silicone or oil-silicone blends. The important thing to remember here is to check your lube for ingredients that end in either -cone or -oxane as that will indicate the inclusion of silicone oils in the product. Silicone is totally safe and actually pretty awesome in lube but, because of the nature of silicone bonding only to itself, silicone in your lube can interact with the solid silicone causing the texture to change and the exterior of your beloved sex utensil to deteriorate. It’s the old “like dissolves like” rule. Yes- there are high-quality silicone lube companies out there (and silicone sex utensil companies) who tout their products as being cross compatible. These are usually companies who have higher standards as to the sourcing and chemical composition of the silicone oils they use, and thus a guaranteed consistency of product. I still don’t recommend silicone lube on softer silicones or dual-density silicones, but if you want to try it on a single-shore utensil, do a patch test on the base first. Most people say you’ll see/feel a reaction immediately but I actually prefer to leave it sit for a few minutes, give it a rub, clean it up, and then check back tomorrow. I’ve found some silicones have retained changes such as fingerprints following this type of patch-test, which never felt “sticky” or “gummy”.

Solid silicone used for sex utensils come in pretty much two camps: firm and soft. This is where you hear folk talk about “dual-density”, “single-density”, “VixSkin“, “O2“, “Super-Soft” and similar terms. Density in this case is a bit of a misnomer, the actual term here is shore strength or durometer. So-called “single density” utensils are the most common, where the item is comprised of the same shore silicone the whole way through. Think about filling your grandmother’s Jell-O mould with all one flavour. This is going to be the case for most dildos and butt plugs. The silicone exterior on vibrators is also in this category, though the process on those is a little different in the casting.

“Dual-density” is a little different. These are a core of firm silicone with a softer shore silicone on the outside. This gives them that nice squeezable and often more “realistic” feel, and is generally accomplished by formulating the silicone with a higher volume of silicone oils to solids. Think about the difference between making regular Jell-O vs. Jell-O Jigglers, the less water you use the firmer your dessert came out. That’s kinda how the difference between the two silicones works, and also how “super-soft” silicones work.

So that brings me to the question that sex-bloggers everywhere get constantly asked: how do they compare? The convenient thing about having a large sex-utensil collection, and friends with equally large collections, is that I can sit poke and prod the various textures to compare side-by-side. Consider this a Mohs Scale for dildos. Remember, these differences in sex utensil textures and how they feel when used in a vulva or anus will vary from human to human.

So, in orders of perceived shore strengths on silicones, hardest to softest:

• Tantus handled toys and paddles
• Early PleasureWorks realistics
• Jollies
• Fuze
• Tantus plugs/dildos
• Vamp RegularSkin
• FunFactory
• Vintage Vixen Creations (Circa 90’s/early 00’s)
• Doc Johnson Platinum
• PleasureWorks
• BS Atelier
• Tantus O2
• Vixen Creations
• Bad Dragon 8
• Tantus “Cowboy Line” (Circa 2014 and onward)
• Tantus SuperSoft
• Dils4Does
• Vamp SoftSkin
• Bad Dragon 5
• New York Toy Collective
• VixenVixSkin with core
• Bad Dragon 3
• Vixen VixSkin without core

I find VixSkin to be softer/more malleable than Bad Dragon’s #3, but it depends on if you’re talking a through-and-through #3 or not, since VixSkin is generally cored. Tantus has a few different shore strengths that they work with, so that really depends on if you’re looking at a standard, an O2, or a SuperSoft model. Their (often but not always) matte silicone as used for things like Anaconda, paddles, G-Force, etc. tends to be a bit firmer, and the silicone used for the “Cowboy” line (Hoss, Cowboy, A-Bomb, etc.) has recently been reformulated to be slightly lower shore strength. Same thing with the Tantus O2 line- they’re cored a lot firmer than a standard single-shore but then have the softer skin, giving them a combined tactile feel of something in-between.

You’ll notice that I didn’t include vibrators up there. Silicone vibrators are a little different, and generally come in two styles: those that have a silicone skin over the mechanics, and those that are powered by a removable bullet. The latter fall into the above scale, where the former tend to take on the firm properties of the hard plastic which they encase (LELO is a great example of this). There are a few exceptions to this, and they are as follows (in no particular order at this time ((Check back in the next week or so, and these should be listed hierarchically too. I’m still doing a bit of research on these ones))):

• FunFactory
• JimmyJane
• Iroha
• Leaf
• WeVibe
• JeJoue
• Jopen Vanity
• Crave

Now the next big question, or piece of misinformation that is out there: can you store silicone sex utensils together? YES! I’m not entirely sure where this fallacy came from, but it’s been taught and re-taught since time immemorial. I’ve even seen it taught to folk in the so-called progressive sex-positive shops by progressive sex-positive educators. You most definitely CAN store your silicone sex utensils all together, in a jumble, if you like. A lot of folk still opt to bag their various dildos and plugs separately for ease of cleaning, to prevent lint and pet hair accumulation, and just to keep things a little more organised. That’s totally cool, you just don’t HAVE to. Vixen’s VixSkin products are best kept standing-up, so keeping those separately is a wise idea. They won’t melt or break down if stored with other silicone, but they may go a little lopsided if stored bent at all for a long period of time.

Ok, I lied. I have an idea of where this “don’t store silicone with silicone!” business came from- products that are labeled as silicone, “silicone quality”, “silicone like”, or have confusing terms such as “sil-a-gel” on the packaging but which aren’t actually silicone. The unfortunate fact of the matter is that the adult product industry is still by-and-large unregulated ((Condoms are FDA classified as a Class II Medical Device, mostly due to the disease-control aspect, however some companies are moving towards getting their sex utensils and/or lubes classified in this way as well.)). This means that no one is overseeing what goes into products or how companies label said products. There is no “10% rule” ((A fake rule of unknown origin purporting that a product may contain as little as 10% silicone in order to be labeled as such. No such regulation exists in this industry.)) that sometimes gets talked about. There is no oversight preventing phthalates, VOCs, heavy-metals, or other toxins (many of which are banned in other household products, items for children or pets, or which consumers actively avoid) from finding their way into sex utensils and thus into your body. Scrutinise the packaging- something that says it’s silicone may later say it’s non-descript elastomer or TPR ((Not to say that TPR or TPE are particularly “bad”. I have menstrual cups made from TPE. These materials are simply not silicone and thus shouldn’t be marketed as such. Methods of cleaning and product life change based on material)). Does it say it’s silicone, or “silicone-grade”? Is it optically crystal-clear (not just translucent)? I often hear folks say they don’t want something silicone because of the “silicone smell” or “silicone taste” which- after much discussion I determine that what they’re talking about is PVC that is labeled with the misleading ((Whether or not it is the intention of this term is irrelevant at this juncture)) “Sil-A-Gel” which technically isn’t a material at all but rather:

Sil-A-Gel is an ingredient that we add to all of our PVC material during the manufacturing stage. It is not a material unto itself. It is anti-bacterial, cadmium and latex free and utilizes ingredients that are on the FDA Safe Ingredient List….that is where the SIL stands for. This was not meant to trick anybody into thinking that this was a silicone product. — Doc Johnson’s Director of Product Development and Licensing

I’d also like to briefly address the “flame test” ((Taking sex utensils to a flame or bunsen burner in the assumption that 100% silicone products will not ignite, burn, or otherwise be damaged by standard low-heat flame)) that has been the standard for many sex utensil testers and sex bloggers for some time now. When this test first began being used, the methods of silicone production were mostly open-ended one-piece moulds into which the silicone was poured. Think again about that Jell-O mould, or a popcicle mould. Like that. More recently, two-part moulds have come into use with injection moulding (LIM ((Liquid Injection Moulding))) which has necessitated a slightly different formulation to the silicones. These are still 100% silicone utensils (when from reputable companies) but when put to the “flame test” may appear to fail. There are a variety of reasons for this, which all come down to chemistry. The softer shore silicones may also smoke, ash, and/or go brittle in weak or thin areas due to the high volume of silicone oils used to create that texture. Does this mean that the “flame test” isn’t a good metric? Not exactly. Boiling and “flame testing” are still the most accessible means of investigating materials that most consumers have. Reverse engineering is still going to be the most accurate, but it’s prohibitively expensive even for professionals in the field.

So once you have your nice silicone sex utensil, how do you take care of it? I already mentioned avoiding silicone lubes (at least until after you do a patch test and determine if the lube you’re using is compatible). One of the reasons silicone is used for both sex and food applications is that it’s really easy to clean, and it doesn’t readily absorb things. People will say that silicone is non-porous and non-staining. These are true to a point- silicone, just like really everything in the world, is permeable by something. What we’re really talking about is the size of the pores in a material, the depth of that pore network, and the ability for those pores to create a dark and damp environment perfect for bacterium and fungi to grow combined with the ability to expose the material to a hostile environment. Generally the hostile environment of choice at home is boiling water. Because the surface of silicone is not very habitable to microbes, and it is a material that is easily cleansed to a safe degree using good old-fashioned hot soapy water, you don’t need to boil it every time you use it. I do recommend doing so if you’re using it both anally and vaginally, or if you’re sharing with someone else. Similarly, if you draw on your silicone with an indelible marker? You’re going to stain it. That’s how indelible inks work. I’ve also had the softer silicones stain from contact with more unstable non-silicone materials, so do be careful there. I personally don’t use toy-cleaner sprays because they are essentially room-temperature soapy water in a spritzer, but if you’re in a situation where you can’t readily wash up and you want to do a quick clean-up? Go for it. I’d still give it a go in the sink with some hot water later. Think of it like your cooking utensils (now do you see why I favour that term?).

A quick word terms of cleanliness– sanitising, disinfecting, and sterilising are not quite as interchangeable terms as they often are used to imply. All three of these are cleaning, but to increasing degrees of meticulousness. Sanitising is what you do when you wash something with soap and water. This removes surface debris and microbes. Don’t worry too much about so-called “antibacterial” soaps here, as all soaps are antibacterial in that when combined with hot water, they help remove bacteria from surfaces. Antibacterial soaps are not disinfectants, and I recommend against the use of soaps or cleansers that are abrasive as these could damage your item. Disinfecting means pretty much what it says – it removes most of the organisms present on the surface that can cause infection or disease. Sterilisation, on the other hand, is the killing or removal of all disease causing organisms. Boiling, using a bleach solution or a hospital-grade solution such as Cavicide are the big guns of cleaning, and each has their own varying effectiveness against various human-bourne pathogens. While this isn’t something that most average sex utensil users will ever have to deal with, it may be pertinent if you are engaging in high-risk activities such as blood-play or scat-play, or if you are using the same toys with a variety of people (often the case for sexworkers). Research the best method of disinfection and sterilisation for your given situation if this applies to you.

A huge thank-you to everyone who helped me by sending me things or letting me squeeze their cocks. A special thank-you to SheVibe for my first BS Atelier, Fuze for contributing a Tango (which will make another appearance in a future Epic Guide), and ArchVixen for access to the newer softer PleasureWorks.

The Jopen Intensity is a hideous beast, there’s no two ways about that. It’s strangely shaped ((I’ve heard all manner of descriptions, from “deformed foot” to “preserved fetus in a jar”)). It’s a nausea-inducing shade of pinky-mauve. It’s large, but not in a “oh that looks delightfully filling” way but rather in a “what the fuck IS that?!?” way. It looks every bit like the (quack) medical device that it is purporting to have started out as. Or maybe some bizarre ray-gun. Paint it brass and take it to the next steampunk con?

The Intensity is trying to be an awful lot of things- clitoral vibrator, dildo, g-spotter, electro-stimulation, and kegel exerciser. It’s even trying to appeal to the wide range of preferences for insertable size. Unfortunately, I think they’re trying to ride all the horses with one butt.

I have so many thoughts and feelings on this, but they’re scattered and rant-y. So let’s just start with the base particulars, and then jump on into that list I just rattled off, shall we? Intensity is made of silicone, so that’s good. It has two metal electrodes on the insertion point. The silicone around those looks pretty well cast around it actually, so I don’t feel like cleaning is going to be a chore to ensure proper hygiene. So that’s good too. It uses four AAA batteries, which is not too bad, at least it’s not AAAA’s or somesuch impossible to find size. It… uhm… yeah, I think I’m out of what passes as nice things to say…

Before I jump into my list of Things That Are Wrong With This Toy, I need to say a few words about the battery compartment. I’d normally not mention the battery compartment but in this case I feel I have to. This is a device designed for women, and I’d hazard to say that most women I encounter on my day-to-day activity tend more towards the femme side of things. This battery compartment is most decidedly NOT femme-friendly. My nails aren’t particularly long, just a smidge past the tips of my fingers, but I couldn’t grasp the little twisty bit because my nails are too long. I dunno about you, but I don’t feel like I should have to change my manicure habits on account of a sextoy.

There is an “On/Off” power button, and two sets of controls on the Intensity, one marked “V” and “S” with up and down arrows for each, and a series of indicator LEDs. “V” for vibration, and “S” for… shock? I’m guessing they meant stimulation, but I’m going with shock based on my experiences with this thing. The tricky part is that I can never quite remember if the controls are designed with up/down oriented for when I’m just looking at the toy, or for when it’s inserted in me. This is problematic later, particularly when we get to the shock parts.

The vibrator on here is a “rabbit” style clitoral attachment, except instead of having a pair of ears which flutter uselessly like most rabbit vibes, this has THREE rather firm protrusions to poke you in the clit whilst emitting an annoying buzzing sensation. There is no redeeming the vibe action on this, at all. None. It stabs, it hurts (and not it a good way), and it annoys. Don’t believe me? You don’t have to take my word for it. Not much vibration carries internally, which doesn’t surprise me given the mechanics of this thing.

You see, people like a lot of different things when it comes to an insertable toy or dildo. I get asked all the time “what is the best?” or “what is your most popular?” or some variant on the theme of folk wanting to find the One Dildo To Rule Them All. Sorry folks, it doesn’t exist. Jopen tried to address this issue of custom-fit dildo needs by looking at that pinnacle period of technological advancement known as the early 1990’s. No, really. Their solution? See that big, round, bulbous portion of the “base”? That is none other than an air bladder, which you use to inflate the intensity to your desired size. Just like a pair of Reebok sneakers— a design idea which we all knew was preposterous almost as soon as they came out. The attempt to make this a g-spotting toy is something that I am glad was very clearly an afterthought, but that doesn’t prevent it from being awful for me. There’s an awkward lump on the shaft which presses into my pubic bone in a really painful and pinchy manner. I can’t imagine it being useful, at all, for anyone who wanted to stimulate their g-spot anyhow- wrong place, too small, and just useless.

Which brings us to the reason this toy falls into the $200+ price bracket, and what makes most people recoil in fear (myself included). Intensity is designed to use electrostimulation to engage your PC muscles and give them a work out. Basically? It’s trying to be a TENS unit for your cunt. I happen to like e-stim, and so I was really excited when I was offered the chance to stick this thing in me and electrocute my vagina for fun and science. Remember what I said about the controls being a pair of up/down buttons of vague orientation? Yeah- this is where that becomes an issue. Each intensity level (I see what you did there guys, and I’m not laughing) has a couple settings of how fast of a pulse you receive, and there are I believe ten levels. I don’t know for sure, I didn’t get through them all. Epiphora did though, and I bow to her vagina for doing so. Even just in my hand, I can tell the issue with the shock levels right away. There is too large a variance from one to the next. It’s like, instead of taking a flight of stairs one step at a time, taking them two or three, or stretching reaaaaaaaaalllly far to try and do four steps at once. You generally end up hurting yourself trying to do that.

Despite my reservations, I lubed up, smeared some electrode gel ((The ingredients for which are not located anywhere on the packaging, so I’m thanking my stars that it didn’t give me any problems)) on the contacts, put it in me, and turned it on. The first setting was the familiar “I think there might be an ant crawling on me” tickly feel of a TENS unit on really low. The second setting got buzzy. The third setting changed abruptly to feeling like someone was stabbing the inside of my vagina with one of the old-style tuberculosis tine-tests, but in your cunt instead of your arm. I tried going up to level four, at which point the stabbing moved on to feeling like knives in my vagina, and I tried to turn it off. Except for that whole “which way is up” problem. I still can’t believe I actually gave this a full round of testing sessions before hiding it under the bed for months, wanting never to look at it again.

This problem of power settings going from not enough to TOO MUCH in one step isn’t unique to Intensity, it’s a common issue for digital electrosex gear. Analog may be the way of the past for many things, but when it comes to using electricity to stimulate really sensitive parts of the body, the fine-tune control of analog really is the way to go. I’m the kind of person who, on a whim, decides to see what it feels like to take my TENS unit to a nipple ((Something which some electro-sex folk will tell you not to do due to proximity to the heart, etc. etc. I’m not saying this was a GOOD idea, ok?)) (which was really fun in ways I had never expected), who contemplates shearing my beloved cuntfur in order to get a better contact with my TENS pads on my labia, and there was that whole electro-bike thing…

I like e-stim quite a bit and don’t get nearly enough. I really should have loved Intensity, but I just can’t. I’d much rather do my kegels the old-fashioned way, or with some Luna Beads, than by painfully shocking my cunt into feeling like it’s being stabbed by knives. I’ve had one friend suggest that electrosex, to him, feels like angry bees in his dick. This was like angry bees with scimitars. I’ll stick to an analog unit and the wide world of probes and pads designed for electrofucking, thanks.