Pain is in! Lock him down and throw away the key! Let’s talk the state of sex, bois, as now we begin closing in on 2026, where anything now goes in the bedroom so long as you’re not the one held personally accountable or calling the playbook rules behind closed doors.
Civilization, here suddenly at summer’s end, is all turning sub. Giving up even the ghost of thinking independently anymore, seems everybody wants to be dommed — or at least doesn’t want to be the one having to make decisions…. Go figure?
And upon each autumnal advent, no matter what I’m personally doing, or wherever I happen to be, total strangers always begin asking me, “Howard, what’s the hottest, most trending-new sex toy for the upcoming holiday season?” Being at the 20th anniversary year of my helming a gay sex advice gig supposes I’m now thought of (more or less) as a local crackerjack expert on what’s sexually trending. So as the Texas queer beacon whom people trust most whenever seeking wisdom on things not quite yet ready for prime time, I should forewarn you, guys, we’re entering uncharted new territory now with the onslaught of A.I.
All of a sudden, we’ve made a lurching leap well beyond remote-control bedroom apps, or even just normalized dom/sub mind fucks: Painless fun-of-abandonment under the sheets is out; twisted kink is the new vanilla. And this year, with all the tariffs, Europe’s finest adult novelties cost you twice again more than the given toy itself.
Visit those hidden shoe boxes in the closet that you think your mother/spouse/roommate doesn’t know about. (Hell gurl, they could rattle off at the breakfast table every sleazy, cheesy leather/latex/silicone schlong and dong, penis pump, electro butt plug and chastity cage that you own, in alphabetical order, no less, whilst serving Sunday’s grits from one hand, feeding Max a Jimmy Dean link under the table with the other and never losing the vape from their mouths.
It’s high time to definitely rethink some of your social media footprints. Those perfectly innocent photos on Instagram, Facebook and TikTok of you with the gang in y’all’s summer beachwear during your August vacay on San Pedro Island? Well, it takes about two seconds now for any teenager down in Mawmaw’s basement to AI-out that magenta glitter thong leave you nude on the beach modeling a throbbing erection and squirting a stream of sun-sparkling jizz over your right shoulder.
I’m old enough to remember when Social Media was born. Its very first app, in 1997, was called Six Degrees. Clinton was in office, and Monica Lewinsky’s infamous blue, spooge-stained dress was about to rock the presidency’s foundations. And to think that such a trifle as that, comparative to, oh, L’Orange’s just any given day of the week — when he’s not signing birthday books at Epstein’s place — actually warranted a presidential impeachment?
My, how quaint were the days back in ’97 — polar opposite to our current times when the louder the sex scandal, the more yawns it inspires. Charlie Sheen “coming clean” by admitting he had gay sex in the past is deemed worthy of international headlines. His caveat’s a real sidesplitter: He only did it under the influence of crack. Well, duh? And one’s sphincter only bleeds when riding a cyborg creature cock the girth of a traffic cone.
Let’s just get all alien erections right to it, shall we?
Creature Cocks are our upcoming holiday season’s must-have toy of the year! Oh, but a word of warning: Resist purchasing your adult novelty stocking-stuffers online this season. Detour over to a bricks-and-mortar smut emporium, instead. They stocked up before the tariffs kicked in, and every fellatio device that crosses the water is now gonna set you back half a month’s rent — and be held hostage by customs until you pay up.
No industry loads up higher profit margins than the jizz biz. Putin’s kleptocracy would give its gold eye-teeth just to slurp up a fraction of what’s netted from any given tariffed truckload of, say, freshly-minted butt plugs daily ending up inside a hungry sea of anuses and vaginas, still assembly-line warm.
The number of men at the office who are secretly sporting either an app-controlled prostate stimulator during the meeting or are permanently “caged” when out in public (forced to wear a male chastity device, preventing both infidelity and an erection) now totals 1 out of every 12.
So, glance around your office, fellas, and give the once-over to 12 random men.
Of course, like all statistics, this one boils down to just a best-guess estimate — just like the total deer population in Vermont, or how many times President L’Orange breaks acrid wind in any given hour. No one really knows for certain, and Melania’s sure not talking. Being a pain pig is no longer BDSM villainy; it’s an aspiration.
Hence, at CreatureCockdotcom, “The cocks from your darkest fantasies have arrived! From mythological monsters to intergalactic invaders, Creature Cocks are ready to ravage you.
“Each of their fascinating phalluses are made of non-porous, body safe silicon that is durable and easy to care for. The large bases can be secured in a harness or suctioned onto a smooth, flat surface to help you make your wildest desires come true, whether you want to be probed by an extra-terrestrial or extreme new depths of pleasure with a sea monster.”
Yes, men, that’s where we are. In this first autumn ending the first quarter of our newest century. How did we get here? Who knows? But there’s no turning back at this point. The only way forward is to plummet depths deeper than the Mariana Trench or sail further off into outer space than even where The Voyager last made human contact.
If it ain’t extreme, it ain’t gonna fly in the bedroom anymore.
— Howard Lewis Russell
October’s annual horrorfest is almost here, folks. And wherever you are, whatever question you’ve got, if it’s too frightening to think about, send it to me: AskHoward@dallasvoice.com.