Two creeeeepy sex/relationship stories:
The first one is actually pretty old, but I just came across it. It’s on Salon, and thus requires you to watch an ad to get full access to it, but it’s worth it for the weirdness. It’s about Real Dolls, the Cadillacs of sex dolls, and the men who love them.
I don’t find the existence of men who will pay $6500 for realistic sex dolls all that surprising or disturbing. In human history, there have probably never been as many rich young men who couldn’t get a date to save their lives as there are now. (Admittedly, such people don’t seem very likable; in particular, “Davecat,” the goth who not only calls his Real Doll his “girlfriend” but also says she’s half-British and half-Japanese, and who himself adds affected British expressions to his speech, seems like a tool of the first order.) It’s the fringe stories, mentioned in the article, that get me: the guy who wanted one made of his mother, the Real Doll that was found hacked up in a Dumpster. I’m not against the manufacture and sale of these things, but it does wig me out that a lot of men who already see women as possessions or sex toys can now buy proof of this.
The other story is less ambiguously repulsive. This guy, accused of trying to kidnap his own wife (and of child pornography, apparently?), seems to be a mite controlling, as seen in the four-page wedding contract he drew up, dictating exactly what she had to do for him and complete with a system of merits and demerits. A consensual sex slave relationship is one thing, but this seems to be just a document he unilaterally wrote up and presented to her. Rather than signing it, she turned it over to the police, and now all of us can read it and wonder at what manhole people like this crawl out of. Warning: contract begins with specification of amount of pubic hair allowable above wife’s “vaginal slit.”