If you are sometimes a floaty, unfocused person—as I have been—or tend to get wishy washy in some situations, a packing cock (a flaccid rubber penis that fits in your underwear) works wonders.
Years ago, I became aware that I had a lot of expansive, chaotic energy and I wanted to work on my directive, forward-moving energy. One of my tantra teachers recommended that I get a packing cock.
I remember when I first got it at a sex store in Chicago. I was with a friend who I’d told about my need for a packing cock and she said she knew the perfect place. The cute lesbian woman behind the counter listened to my request. She brought out a bunch of very large flaccid penises—some serious shlong action.
“I’m looking for something a little more subtle.” I told her. “Something that could stay hidden if I wanted it to be hidden. Something a little more secret, just for me.”
The only thing she had in a more realistic size was a slightly dusty display model. It felt a little wrong, but I bought it, dusted it off, and wore it out of the store.
My friend and I went for ice cream. She laughed later about the way I swaggered and flirted hard with the teenage girl behind the counter. I didn’t choose to swagger and flirt; it just happened. The packing cock had a life of its own. I liked it. I could feel some different energy in me.
Once I wore it to a family dinner. It helped everything, knowing I had a saucy secret in my underwear. So when my stepmother was a bit distant or went on for a long time about my younger brother’s accomplishments, it didn’t matter. Part of me was buoyant, yelling out silently over the dinner table: He may have a scholarship and perfect grades but I have a rubber penis in my pants! It was magic.
Sometimes I’d wear it to work when I was feeling unmotivated or oppressed by my office job. When things were boring or my boss was being high maintenance and we all had to discuss our numbers, a part of me was insulated from the hubbub, gloriously cocky like: Bow down Bitches, I’ve got a secret penis.
Even when I wore it alone, cleaning the house, plowing through my to-do list, or writing… I noticed the difference. I’ve worn my packing cock to parties, on dates, and grocery shopping. It’s a whole new dynamic. And I tend to get a lot done!
Sometimes I like to dress up really girly and wear my packing cock. And at some point in the evening, I have the option of lifting my skirt and giving everyone a surprise.
I told a woman at work about my packing cock and she asked why I don’t just concentrate on my own vagina instead. But the packing cock has a different energy. It puts me in touch with a strange confidence, totally unrelated to any actual skills I have. It’s a secret, and a surprise.
This isn’t to say that men get more done or are naturally more focused. The point is that I’m more focused when I wear it. It queers the moment in a way that makes everything fresh. My energy gets lower, and I’m more aware of sex and naughtiness. And it’s just plain fun.
If you want to get a packing cock, you can order one online and it will surely come in a plain, discreet box. Sex stores know that these things are none of your postman’s business. But you can also do this with any object that you imbue with magic. You could even put on an invisible cloak and whenever you wear it, you become super capable, super confident, super sexy. It could be anything.
For me, that weight in my underwear, the need to adjust it, the strange heaviness between my legs was a great reminder that I was not living life as usual.
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Photo: Charles Deluvio on Unsplash