Girl on the Net

Weirdly, when I first experienced the indescribably brilliant, fuck-me-to-the-brink-of-death-and-beyond power of the Doxy, it didn’t occur to me to ask for something that would pump that power into my cunt. I was happy enough just fucking my Doxy as it was – using the throbbing rumble of the mighty original Doxy on my clit. Latterly I’ve been content to let those powerful waves travel through the flesh of my pubic mound, into the internal walls of my vagina, where they meet up with the Godemiche ambit dildo like two dudes meeting me on the Piccadilly line and then DP-fucking me in the lift at Covent Garden. What a complete twat I feel now, having experienced the power of Doxy inside my cunt, to never have thought to ask for it before.

This is one of those review posts which isn’t really a review, it’s just porn. I’m not an unbiased observer, carefully weighing up the pros and cons of sex toys: I’m just an eager wanker who has been given the rabbit attachment for the Doxy 3 and asked if I fancy writing something. And as with everything Doxy, I really do. And as with everything me, once we’ve done the sponsor spiel, it’s going to get messy. Here’s a little bit about the product I’m meant to be covering, followed by a thousand words of erotica about fucking a Doxy. Strap in.

Doxy 3 (or 3R) rabbit attachment

The Doxy 3 is a smaller, lighter wand toy than the original Doxy or the Doxy Die Cast. The 3R is the rechargeable version of that, which delivers power without wires, so you can use it during even the most entangled Twister-like orgies.

A long time ago, Doxy worked with sex toy company Nexus to come up with a range of attachments that you could screw onto the heads of these smaller wands, to transfer their delicious thuddy power in different ways. At the time of writing, there are four:

• The rabbit attachment
• The prostate massager attachment
• The wank sheath attachment and
• The clitoral stimulator

All of them attach to the Doxy 3 (or 3R) in exactly the same way: you unscrew the main head of the toy, screw on your attachment, then proceed to bang yourself senseless. They also all cost £35 each, which is helpful for me because I hate having to remember different prices.

NOTE: because I’m an absolute slut for Doxy, not only do they sponsor my website but they’ve given me a special discount code that you won’t find anywhere else. GOTN15 will get you 15% off anything on their site, plus free shipping. You’re welcome. 

Anyway. On with the porn.

Fucking a Doxy

The thing you need to know about fucking a Doxy is that if you, like me, have fucked a Doxy almost every day you’ve been alive and horny for the past six years, every single thing about it takes on hot connotations.

Take the sound of the Doxy, for instance: that deep, thuddy rumble that kicks in when you press the ‘plus’ button. It’s so unique that I can identify it even when compared with the different tones and timbres of any other vibrator. I suspect if you were lying in the corner of my office, naked from the waist down and getting stuck into a wank, I could tell you without looking not just whether the tool you’d fired up was a Doxy, but which model Doxy you had chosen.

And then I would probably get wet.

That’s the thing, you see, about fucking a Doxy for years on end: I’ve developed an almost Pavlovian response to the noises it makes when you hold your thumb on the plus button to start ‘pulse’ mode. That’s the one I use most often. Thuddy, intense, waving rumbles which I play across my pubic mound, building pressure timed with the peak of each pulse, twisting the head of the Doxy this way and that, teasing and massaging my clit to ride those waves up to the moment I come.

I haven’t even started on sensation yet, but we’ll get there. I promise you, we’ll definitely get there.

Then there’s the heft of a Doxy. Oh sure, the Doxy 3 (and 3R) are smaller than the original – the one that’s been by my side through one whole boyfriend, a few group sex scenes, and hundreds upon hundreds of wanks. But despite being small, even these Doxys carry heft. Authority. Not piss-weak flimsy plastic or tinny, buzzy shakes: heft.

The weight and shape of a Doxy in my hand carries similar satisfaction to the heft of a swiftly-thickening cock. You know that lovely in-between stage, when someone’s hot for you and their blood is pumping to their dick, and your fingers gripping tight around it can still find a little bit of give? Then you squeeze, squeeze, stroke and fucking squeeze until the whole thing is hard enough that you can no longer grip it tighter? There’s the same satisfaction in picking up a Doxy. Feeling the weight and shape of it in my hand like the hilt of a treasured sword – one that’s vanquished the most troublesome enemies.

Not using it but wielding it.

Like a weapon.

Or like a power tool.

I love tools. I love sanders and electric planes. Hammer drills and Dremels for detail and the vicious, terrifying roar of my laser-guided table saw. I love the way the power of it travels up my hand and arm – tingling and intense and reminding me of the sheer force that’s gripped between my fingers.

The same is true of my original Doxy. If you’re looking for ‘discreet’ or ‘gentle’, it’s really not for you. The power of the Doxy is part of its appeal – the bit you show off about and revel in. The bit that I secretly thrill to know some men to find deeply intimidating. The power of the Doxy is what will make me come. The more of that power I can feel, the more eager I am for the best part. The power of the Doxy will make me come, and that orgasm is heralded by a rumbling, aching joy that travels through my wrist and up my arm. Through the flesh of my pubic mound and right through the walls of my cunt, shaking my bum on its way to harry the mattress. The power of Doxy cannot be muffled or quashed or dampened, even if I place it on the duvet so I can lie face-down and squirm on it.

The thing you need to know about fucking a Doxy is that you do not do it gently or discreetly. You do it proudly and loudly. Victoriously. You fuck a Doxy the way you sand a workbench: with growls and power and tension in your muscles – squeezing and pressing and wielding it and enjoying the way your body feels when it works in perfect harmony with your tool of choice.

And know this, know this my friends: I still haven’t told you how good it is to come with one.

The thing about fucking a Doxy is I can do it no matter what mood I’m in. Horny? Great. Bored? Sorted. Miserable and weak and feeling like my mojo’s drained, too tired to muster the cunt-slick for a full-on, two hands wank? No. Fucking. Problem.

I’ve got a Doxy.

The thudding, rumbling power does a job, and it will not shrink from the task it’s designed for even if my anxious brain and my fickle cunt aren’t feeling it. The other day, I tried this rabbit attachment, after a session of weeping self-pity and at least four vodka and Cokes. The power of the Doxy 3R, channeled through this attachment on my g-spot made me come so hard my thighs shuddered and I saw brand new colours and shapes behind my eyelids.

I did nothing more than grit my teeth and fail to conjure fantasies, but it didn’t matter: I knew it wouldn’t matter. The relentless, thudding, grinding bliss is enough to fuck me anyway. The Doxy is enough to fuck me anyway. I grip it in my hand, feeling that weight and heft like a thickening cock, then slide it inside me cold, knowing that the power on its own will be enough.

Then I press the button: that pulse, that rumble, kicks Pavlov’s hot-button-horn-response in my mind and I am well and truly ready to get fucked.

I close my eyes and slide it in and out, and I wish I could tell you here that I took copious mental notes. That I wanted to remember the sensations of that first-time-fuck with a Doxy attachment.

But I can’t.

Because fucking a Doxy is not something that I do carefully, gently or precisely. Fucking a Doxy is only a choice until that button is pressed. Once the button is pressed and my cunt’s jumped into gear, I am no longer fucking a Doxy, but being fucked by one. Swift, hard, powerful, relentless: the kind of fuck I’d beg naked on my knees for if I knew of a guy who was offering.

But luckily I don’t need to beg, I just need to press that fucking button.

Vrrrrrr.

The thing you need to know about fucking a Doxy is that I have done a lot of it, and there’s nothing quite like it.

And I think you should fuck one yourself.

I set myself the challenge of writing erotica about fucking a Doxy the same way I’d write erotica about fucking a person: how did I do? I hope you enjoyed it – I did. I had at least four Doxy wanks (with different kinds of Doxy) in order to refine it. If you’d like to buy any of the stuff mentioned in this piece, click the links to go to the Doxy site, use GOTN15 for 15% off and free shipping, then share this post if you enjoyed it and I might one day turn the sexy part into audio porn.

If you’re reading this before 22nd October 2020, you can win a matte black Doxy 3R, which is very sexy indeed. These are currently exclusively available on the Doxy site (which means you can’t get ’em elsewhere yet), and if you fancy your chances just retweet this competition tweet and follow @Doxy before midday (UK time) on the 22nd. Terms and conditions here.