About That Whip

I recently replaced my bedside table with a skinnier version and bought a stack of drawers to squeeze between the wall and the nightstand. I asked my Colombian nanny/ housekeeper to assemble the Ikea wares and transfer my items from the dresser to the new pieces.

A few days later, I was looking for something in my husband’s drawers with the nanny beside me. A black and white feathery thing caught my eye and without much thought, I pulled it out.

“Oh this must be from a costume,” I said holding forgotten sex toy, a rod with a frayed whip on one end and a tickling feather on the other.

My three year old asked to see it. I tickled her with the feather and tried to act nonchalantly.

Several days later the kids were still playing with the whip/feather thing. When a telemarketer from a Broadway theater called pitching me on a season’s pass I used the opportunity to create a little shock and awe of my own. “I may be interested,” I said, “But right now my two toddlers are chasing each other around the house with a sex whip and I think I should intervene.” I heard him fluster for his breath then say goodnight.

A quick google search shows that even Amazon is selling these toys, which I do recommend for excitement and some unknown in the bedroom. Apparently there are enough fans for a Facebook page to emerge, but it only has seven members. If I wasn’t so shy in real life, I’d join.

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