February 6, 2006 -- My history with battery-operated pleasure devices dates back a shocking 30 years when, as a teenager, I discovered my brothers' Penthouse magazines and ordered a clunky, whirring, rubber phallus from a back-page advertisement. I hid the gizmo in my dance bag, burying it between my ballet slippers. God knows why the housekeeper was digging around in there one day, but she found my toy and told my mother - who silently placed it on my bed. ...