Note: This is an adult, fantasy toy for consenting adults only. I’ll keep this non-graphic and practical.
Why I bought it (and why I was nervous)
I love weird props. Cosplay, campy horror, slime—yep, that’s me. I’d seen ovipositor toys online and thought, “That looks wild… but is it safe? Is it messy?” Curiosity won. I picked a medium silicone model from a small indie maker—think along the lines of the curvy, textured Warrior design you’ll find on boutique sites. The packaging was plain and discreet. No awkward mailbox moments. Thank you.
If you’d like an even deeper dive into the nitty-gritty of this same experience, I chronicled every detail in a dedicated review you can find right here.
If you're browsing for other off-beat fantasy toys or just doing homework before a splurge, the guides over at WetLookSex are a surprisingly handy place to start.
What comes in the box
- The silicone toy (body-safe, no weird smell)
- A small silicone funnel
- A leaflet with basic tips (not a full manual, which I did miss)
No eggs included. You make them yourself. More on that.
Making the “eggs” (yes, my kitchen looked like a science fair)
You know what? My first batch flopped. I tried gelatin and water with a bit of food coloring. Later I discovered a detailed walkthrough on making gelatin eggs that would’ve saved me some trial-and-error. Too soft. They broke like jello on a hot day.
Round two: I used agar powder (vegan), warm water, and a tiny pinch more powder than the packet said. I poured it into silicone candy molds about grape-sized. Let it set in the fridge for 30–40 minutes. These held shape, but they were a tad firm. Round three hit the sweet spot: I mixed agar a bit lighter and made the pieces smaller—more like big olives than grapes. That worked best.
Small tip list (learned the messy way):
- Rinse molds with cold water before pouring. Helps release.
- Don’t use sugar. Sticky is cute in cartoons—not here.
- Make extras. A few always get weird.
Setup and fit (the boring stuff that actually matters)
The toy is flexible, but not floppy. The finish is matte, which grips a bit, so you’ll want a good water-based lube. I tested with Sliquid and also a generic pharmacy brand. Both were fine. Silicone lube is a no-go with silicone toys. It can mess up the surface.
The channel inside the toy is narrow. That matters. Eggs that are too big or too stiff can jam. Ask me how I know. When I kept them small and smooth, it was fine. The funnel helped when loading. Still, go slow. Rushing just leads to clogs and cranky muttering.
Role-play moments (PG, promise)
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Space lab night: I tossed on a silver bodysuit and silly goggles. I put the toy on a tray with the agar “specimens” in a little glass bowl. We turned on a blue light and played a cheesy sci-fi soundtrack. It felt goofy and fun—like a B-movie scene we made at home.
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Spring forest theme: I wore a green robe, dimmed the lights, and used a little forest sound loop. It made the whole thing feel story-like, not awkward. A prop can quiet the nerves. This one did.
Not in the mood for props and slime? A deck of spicy card games can spark the same playful creativity with way less cleanup.
For long-distance play, my partner and I also fleshed out our gooey alien storyboard over chat apps. If you’ve never tried weaving a whole egg-laying plot through playful text banter, check out this breakdown of how to keep things consensual, creative, and scorching on Kik: Kik Sexting Guide—it walks you through safety pointers, role-play prompts, and etiquette so your messages stay fun rather than fumbling.
I didn’t need much more than that. The toy did the “wow” part. I kept it non-graphic, low pressure, and playful.
The learning curve (real talk)
- Batch one eggs: mush. Tossed them.
- Batch two: pretty but too firm; they clogged the channel.
- Batch three: smaller size, lighter agar—smooth sailing.
- Lube: more helped. Not buckets. Just… more than you think.
- Angle: If you keep the toy level instead of pointing up, it loads and moves better. Yes, this sounds obvious. No, I didn’t do it at first.
Comfort, control, and noise (or lack of it)
Comfort was good once I nailed egg size and lube. The toy’s matte silicone felt nice in hand. No strong smell. Quiet, too. The only “noise” was the gentle, squishy sound of the agar. Not gross. Kind of funny, actually. We kept laughing. That helped.
Cleaning and care (please don’t skip this part)
- Right after use, I rinsed the toy in warm water to keep anything from drying inside.
- A little dish soap and a soft brush (a baby bottle brush worked) cleared the channel.
- I rinsed well, then air-dried.
- For storage, I dusted it with cornstarch so it wouldn’t feel tacky. No talc.
- I kept it in a zip bag in a drawer away from other toys, because silicone can get clingy with other materials.
If the toy can be boiled, the maker should say so. Mine could, but I only did a brief, gentle boil the first time to be safe. Most nights, soap and warm water did the trick.
Safety notes I actually used
- Patch test your lube on your inner arm first if you have sensitive skin.
- Don’t use sugary mixes. Don’t use oils. Keep it simple: water-based lube and plain agar or gelatin.
- If anything stings or feels off, stop. Take a break. No big deal.
- Talk to your doctor if you have any health concerns. Better safe than sorry.
What surprised me (in a good way)
- The toy turned nerves into laughter. It felt more silly than scary.
- Cosplay props helped set the mood. A cheap LED bulb made it feel special.
- Small, smooth “eggs” worked best—this matters more than brand hype.
What bugged me
- The channel jammed with big or firm pieces. That got old fast.
- No real manual. I wanted clear dos and don’ts from the maker.
- Drying the inside took patience. I used a cotton swab and still waited overnight.
Pros and cons
Pros:
- Body-safe silicone, soft feel
- Wild, creative role-play potential
- Quiet and easy to hold
- Cleanup is simple once you get a routine
Cons:
- Jams if “eggs” are the wrong size/firmness
- Learning curve with recipes
- Needs time to dry fully
- Not beginner-friendly if you hate prep
Who it’s for (and who should skip)
- For: Cosplay fans, fantasy lovers, folks who enjoy props and prep, partners who like to laugh and try new things.
- Maybe skip: Anyone who wants zero setup, hates mess, or needs a simple, quick toy.
Curious about a totally different kind of adventurous play? I also spent three months rooming with a life-size companion, and you can peek at that candid journey here.
For some readers, experimenting with fantasy toys ignites a curiosity about exploring gender-bending attractions in real life; if that rings true for you, browsing a dedicated, inclusive directory like Trans Escort Flint can help you connect with verified trans companions in the Flint area—complete with transparent rates, safety guidelines, and genuine reviews—so your offline adventure feels as imaginative and worry-free as your toy play.
My verdict
I had a good time—after a few clumsy tries. The ovipositor toy is more prop than gadget. It shines when you make a scene around it. Think costumes, music, a little story. If you like a goofy, sci-fi vibe, you’ll probably smile like I did.
Would I use it every week? No. But when I want something strange and playful, it’s a hit. Keep the “eggs” small, the lube water-based, and your expectations flexible. Then it’s not scary at all. It’s just… fun. Weird fun. And I’m here for that.