Two minutes’ walk from Prague’s Old Town Square, down a cobbled alleyway, situated conflicting a high-end shop selling porcelain and jewellery, is the world’s one and only Sex Machines Museum.
And because not?
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As its name pithily suggests, this Czech Republic captivate is dedicated to the mechanics of rumpy pumpy.
This is where you will find the good and the good of humanity’s coitus contraptions – from porcelain dildos to suacy walking sticks and a steam siphon vibrator (but some-more on that later).
According to the museum’s central blurb: ‘The collection of objects from the whole world… is designed to beam the caller in an mocking and intelligent manner, needing them to pierce by the curiosity, story and corruption of human sexuality.’
Sounds saucy. But Prague is a befitting horde with a race obvious for their on-going views.
The Sex Machine Museum is a long-held dream-come-true for Italian internal Oriano Bizzocchi.
Originally from San Marino, Bizzocchi saved for 20 and years and befriended antique dealers around the universe in sequence to collect the 300-odd curiosities on display.
They operation in size, from the outrageous (BDSM sex racks and a reproduction of Edward VII’s ‘love chair’) to the tiny (the museum has an considerable and utterly pleasing gallery of genital jewelry) – not that distance matters.
Having finally non-stop its doors in 2002, the museum immediately courted controversy.
The then mayor of Prague attempted to close it following complaints from relatives who felt the museum’s window display – involving ropes, leather, crane and a nun in illusion rigging – was incorrigible (though one wonders what they expected).
Fortunately, the museum weathered the adversity, the offending window sauce was incorporated into the ubiquitous collection and this year the museum celebrates its 15th year having benefited from a 2015 makeover in which the walls were embellished ‘lipstick red’.
It continues to be a hotspot for visitors who are intrigued by the 300 and objects on display.
Unsurprisingly, it is not family friendly: under 18s are banned, so leave the kids at home.
The exhibits are laid out over 3 floors (there is no lift) and many visitors suggest starting at the top and operative your way down, so to speak.
They operation from lewd to ridiculous and camber centuries of human pleasure, illustrating how distant we’ve come in courtesy to sex toys – a global marketplace that Forbes quoted as being worth a whopping $15b in 2016.
The museum’s porcelain dildos and hand-cranked vibrators demeanour unwieldy and worried compared with today’s battery operated super bullets.
The appurtenance that allows early BDSM fans to give themselves a good, programmed spanking, is innovative but risibly basic.
The electric pap clamps and leather illusion masks, however, would not demeanour out of place in your internal Ann Summers.
A sight show counter may be aesthetically out-of-date but the ardour for voyeurism has not diminished: examination porn, attending sex parties and filming the sessions are fast apropos mainstream tools of Average Joe’s sex life.
Look over the decorated gizmos and you’ll find several objects that make this swell utterly poignant.
Here’s where that steam siphon vibrator comes in.
Invented in 1869 by George Taylor, it not only looks tortuous, it aims to heal women of ‘hysteria’.
Then there is the ‘anti-masturbation’ device, combined in 1897, which consists of a straightjacket pyjama fit with nails embedded around the groin.
We still have a prolonged way to go, generally in regards to womanlike and same-sex sexuality, but a walk turn the Sex Machines Museum creates you grateful we have, at least, got this far.
And some of it is balls-out weird (if you’ll atonement the pun.)
First up is the cover pot with an trustworthy counterpart that means you can watch yourself excrete.
Next is a vast wooden circle with penises extending from the spokes that, apparently, enables two people to be penetrated at the same time in opposite orifices. It looks like a logistical nightmare.
Finally, don’t skip the The Smother Box, which is used in the affectionate act of affectionate coprophagy. Each to their own and all that.
Some visitors to the Sex Machines Museum have criticised it for not being interactive adequate as all the exhibits are displayed behind glass, or with despotic instructions not to touch.
But the 2015 revamp saw the installment of a tiny but ideally shaped in-house cinema, and it’s good worth a visit.
If you can find a chair in the tiny screening room, you’ll be treated to some of the best Spanish pornos from the 1920s. Purportedly shot for the pleasure of King Alphons XIII, the performers are pronounced to be a brew of the director’s friends and street prostitutes.
The first, The Confessor or The Friar’s Blessing, follows a disobedient brother who convinces his womanlike assemblage that they must perform his carnal desires.
The second, Ladies’ Cabinet, is a story about a frolicsome alloy and his womanlike patients, which is pronounced to enclose one of the very first on-screen depictions of three-way sex.
It’s all very amiable in comparison to what you can find with a Google hunt currently but another good instance of how technology, not to discuss the passionate predilections, have come on over the years.
As with all attractions, it depends what you’re into: if you’re open disposed and curious, the Sex Machines Museum is really worth a trip.
If you’re simply shocked, broke or can consider of zero worse than an afternoon being forced to confront social taboos, you may wish to stay away.
But don’t take my word for it. Ash from Glasgow went during with his partner last year – here’s his verdict:
We popped in to equivocate a deluge and had a surprisingly good time. It doesn’t take too prolonged to go round, and there is utterly a lot of eye-popping things to see!
It is tastefully finished and we saw a brew of couples and families erratic around.
We did watch the movies, but they done us giggle some-more than anything.
My criticisms would be that there wasn’t a outrageous volume of information about some of the exhibits. Also, there isn’t really a present shop.
All we wanted was a newness penis rubber but no – nothing.