All Topped Toys are delivered with a care instruction card which bears on one side the statement: "We Trash Boys." A promise? A warning? A disclaimer? All of them at once! Read it as you would the sign above the hellgate: "Abandon all hope, ye who enter." Because to enter the Topped Toys playground — or should that be: To let the Topped Toys playground enter you? — is to consent to be inevitably trashed; if one plug doesn't do it, the next one will.
This is my third plug from Topped Toys and it is the plug which has ruined me for every other source of sexual pleasure and turned me into a devoted customer of Topped Toys. It was during the second of three cumless prostate orgasms it gave me that any residue of shame about my preferences evaporated and I at last owned the fact that I am a backdoorsman, a bumboy cockhound, a pilgrim worshipper at the prostate altar. For pleasure this deep and consuming cannot be shameful.
Once you get this plug — which has an eggshell finish that gives wonderful sensations — inside you, lie down on your front, listen to some music, and try not to will anything to happen; just clear your mind and let things happen on their own. I find a little weed helps to dismantle the brain's imperium over consciousness, allowing it to tune itself in to the body's localized and transient polities of sensation. Soon enough, out of the anarchy, a new 'order'-giving principle will emanate from the prostate: pleasure, the negation of order. The sole diktat of this barbarian king — give in to lust — will travel out in waves through your pelvis, up your spine, and sack your mind, so that you begin to pant and writhe and moan as you dissolve in and succumb to an animal ecstasy which climbs but never climaxes.
That's what this plug did for me, that's what a Topped Toys toy can do for you. My only regret is that I did not find these products, and this part of myself, sooner.
The Gape Keeper 85 is my gateway plug, and Topped Toys is my well-resourced dealer.