File: four-bobs-worth.txt
Content : Electricity is really your friend.
Circa: Feb 2002

Wanking is great, we all know this from lots of personal experience. I've
played with all kinds of lube, power tools, domestic appliances, and what
have me, however, I'd wanted to extend the envelope a little bit. This is
the story of what happened when I did.

I'd been thinking a lot about nerves and how they worked and wether they
had some limitation to the amount of data they could transmit. Shannon's
Law, deduced about 50 years ago by a much-lauded telecommunications
engineer from whom it derives its name, states that nerves (and for that
matter, fibre optics, microwave beams, and strands of metal) certainly do
have these limits, but Shannon's Law also implies that these information
transmission limits are usually not approached by communication systems in
typical circumstances. Usually it's limited by the sensors attached to the
transmission system's ends. This, dear readers, has the important
consequence that given the right stimulus, there's room to undergo
more fun than we would have normally expected ourselves capable of
experiencing.

Nerves are pretty amazing things, actually, and so is the way they
function, routing incoming sensory data to our brains, processing that
data and then routing it out again to our muscles. Nerve axons, the long
stringy sections which take information from point A to point B, are NOT
like copper wires which carry electricity. They are insulated tubes of
coaxially-configured submicroscopic ion pumps, and they enable the
propagation of information by way of sequentially pumping calcium and
chloride ions in different directions across their concentrically arranged
phospholipid membranes. This `depolarisation' travels down the axon like a
mexican wave, at about 100m/sec.

Your average human has quite a lot of nerve supply to the genital region -
one of evolutionary biology's better developments, if you ask me. The
question was, given the crude tools I had, how to push that to its limit
and get the most fun out of it without destroying anything or addicting
myself to it.

So, one fine day, I was up for a wank, and the only experimental tools to
hand were the much abused inflatable data-transfer pipe anchored to my
pelvis, and my homebuilt, rather crude nickel-cadmium battery charger.

The charger in question consisted of a small mains isolating stepdown
transformer with a 10:1 turns ratio taking 240VAC from a wall socket and
delivering 24 volts AC out at up to an ampere. The mains feed is VERY well
insulated - no exposed metal anywhere.

This 24VAC coming out of the transformer is then fed into a doodad called
a bridge rectifier, which takes the half-positive/half negative,
sinusoidal 24V AC waveform and converts it into a series of positive
voltage bumps, which when viewed on an oscilloscope, looks rather like a
string of McDonald's signs all placed in a row. This is followed by some
10 watt, 20 Ohm resistors, and I can't remember why I put them there all
those years ago when I built the thing (current limiting? Thanks Ed!), but
they do take some of the energy out of the system and waste it as heat.
Unusually for NiCd charging equipment, this charger has no smoothing
capacitor and no LM-series three-terminal regulator either, which means
that the voltage will jump around quite a lot at the outlet where a series
of NiCd batteries (or for that matter, my anatomy) are connected, via a
pair of small alligator clips.

The charger has no earth, which adds to the danger - an earth-leakage
circuit breaker, which would cut the power off in less than a heartbeat if
it noticed anything awry with the charger, will not save me from
ignominious death by genital electrocution if the rig fails to isolate me
from the mains feed. If you try this at home, please use a safer power
source (eg: a set of batteries) or a charger incorporating more safety
features than my perilously crude contraption.

Said perilous contraption can deliver about 20 watts. This is insanely,
outrageously beyond what nerves require to drive them, as in, thousands of
times more than they consume during normal physiological function. It
would permanently damage the nerves, were it not for the requirement to
dissipate most of this power, in the process of forcing the rectified AC
waveform signal across my skin into the thermoreceptor- and
mechanoreceptor-laden tissues of my gonad. Skin in its usual state is an
insulator, so the energy has to be coupled to the skin and its embedded
sensory nerve cells, by some kind of charge-transfer agent, or
electrolyte. Dry skin, and the air entrained on it, insulates much better
than damp skin, thereby reducing the zap to which I intended to subject
myself. The medical industry makes very good, low-irritant charge-transfer
gels used for all sorts of things like diathermy, but I didn't have any to
hand. So I used a dab of handy KY-jelly (not a brilliant conductor, but
clean, and adequate) to help increase the conductivity to my skin, and
hence more efficiently transfer the energy into myself at locations to be
revealed shortly.

If the effect is to be any good, it is important to supply a fair bit of
'juice, but it is also very important to have a large contact surface
across which the 'juice can flow, which has the effect of lowering the
charge density to the extent that you don't produce local heating more
than your tissues can dissipate, and therefore do not burn
yourself. Alligator clips have a small contact patch, so the current
density would be very high. So I needed some electrodes.

The nearest things to hand were two 20c coins. I cleaned them with
detergent and steel wool in boiling water, dried them off, then attached
one alligator clip to each of them. So, no burning, hopefully.

Now, the voltage I was putting through these things was likely to result
in something called electromigration, which is what happens when metal
atoms ionise, making them mobile enough to diffuse into the flesh because
they have had electrons ripped off them and thence dissolved in the
electrolyte. Australian 20c pieces are a cupronickel alloy, and nickel is
a known cytotoxic heavy metal. I decided that I would place the
electron-depleted (conventionally, positive) electrode somewhere other
than the end of my dong.

I now had to choose the current path through which the zap would go.
Routing any of this voltage near my cardiac muscle would cause it to
fibrillate and this would probably kill me. So everything had to go pretty
close to where the action was. Initially I thought of clenching the
lubed-up positive electrode in my butthole but the thought of a
nickel-irritated anus didn't appeal so I ended up a little further
forward, and packed it against my perineal surface with a handy T-shirt
(this was partly to keep my sac off the electrode, since due to the
wrinkly nature of the scrotal surface, it was a likely candidate for
thermal burns if it touched the electrode and I wasn't entirely
comfortable with the idea of zapping my testes anyway). 

I had to ensure I wouldn't zap myself incorrectly as I applied the other
electrode, so I wrapped my right hand in a small plastic bag. A rubber
glove would have been better, of course, but this would do well enough.

I wasn't going to apply the thing straight away, I expected (correctly)
that this experimental power source would be best applied when I'd reached
the point of no return and was just about to get off. So, coin of the
realm firmly pressed against my penile root, and the other coin nearby, I
energised the system, and started jerking off in the usual way, with lots
'o lube. Naturally, 'cos I only had one electrode in contact, I felt
nothing.

When I noticed I was getting to the gravy stroke, I tentatively applied
the other electrode with my plastic-wrapped right hand (very carefully
wrapped so as not to let me touch the metal, since this would allow
current to flow up my arm towards my electrically sensitive heart) to the
broadly flared, dorsal side of my glans, and pressed it gently against
the glistening surface, ramming 20vAC throught the tender, neurologically
aroused meat that is the male data-transfer organ.

On point of coming, applying said equipment, felt roughly like instant
penile incineration. Unspeakably, obscenely, jaw-clenchingly delicious.
I've had some mindblowing climaxes during shagging, ones which left me
spent on the floor unable to breathe properly, and some mighty good wanks
too. For pelvic paroxysm, this, however, beats 'em all.

I absolutely couldn't keep it there for more than a second, during which
time the voltage went from zero, to twenty volts, and back to zero... a
HUNDRED TIMES! I copped a hundred twenty-volt zaps a second! This is
because bridge-rectifiers halve a sinewave's period, which means I was on
the recieving end of double the fifty Hertz frequency at which the mains
operates in Australia. 

Do you know anybody who can full-travel fuck you at even a mere five
thrusts a second (200 milliseconds a stroke)? Unless you include porn
actors on video with the fast-forward button held down, I don't. No
imaginable manual or mechanical wanking, and no concievable biological
partner on earth, can even begin to approximate what I experienced. No
dildo, not even my (somewhat modified) orbital sander, can come close to
this, since by feeding the sensory nerve roots directly with transdermal
electricity, I bypass the dead-time intrinsic to the sensory cells in the
flesh, and instead send signal pulses straight down the nerve axons, using
much more of the available sensory bandwidth, exploiting Shannon's
predictions to their most crushingly, shockingly enjoyable extent.
 
It was probably the longest second of my life. Having force-fed my neurons
almost to the point of altering reality, I convulsed, cried out, flung the
energised coin away from my glans and came really, really hard. Wires,
lube, jizz, coinage, plastic bag, T-shirt ...  was that steam, or smoke,
coming off my dong? I didn't care how it looked. It felt sickeningly rich,
euphorial, exultant. I shook. Tears rolled down my face. I pulled the
doona over myself, I had to lie there for a while to gather my wits. I
awoke later, cleaned the place up and and turned off the charger.
Smirking. My dong appeared none the worse for wear.

A few days later I squatted over a mirror and noticed some faint red marks
on my perineum. I didn't wank again for more than a week.

It was fuckin' great. The parts are cheap, and at current electricity
prices the value is unbeatable. The description you've read will not do it
justice, and I don't think that's just because I'm not a particularly good
writer. 

I have so many experiments in mind, mainly involving voltage-controlled
oscillators, or perhaps random noise generators coupled to hex inverter
chips, anything which will go up to about 300Hz. These semiconductor
signal devices are very cheap and widely available. I am sure certain
sorts of music would feel blisteringly brilliant, too. Given a
programmable signal generator and a power amp, I could cook up a suite of
waveforms which would deprive me of any reason to ever get out of bed
again until I rebuilt the hardware in portable format. Current path also
offers some scope... why not dispense with the perineal contact and
deliver the signal to the penile roots by going through the rectal wall,
via the prostate gland, with the help of an appropriately designed
electrode incorporated into a buttplug? Well I can think of some reasons
but the payoff might be astounding.


In the year that has elapsed I have not returned to it, though, for if
did, not only would I be unable to stop myself doing it all the time, but
I'd probably be unable to enjoy normal shaggery as much as I currently do.
Were I to addict myself to the mains supply, normal sex, despite all the
proximity, intimacy, intensity and frenzy of the carnal dance, would be
like settling for caffeine after you'd snorted cocaine, watching fireworks
after you've used commercial explosives, hearing a song on a scratchy
transistor radio after immersing yourself in it with an audiophile quality
Hi-Fi. It is unlikely electricity is going to be banned anytime soon, it's
available cheaply everywhere, and the mains waveform is strictly
regulated... I can easily get more of the same waveform with the
consequences I've described above. It'd be like infinite free ecstasy
until I destroyed any sensation in the entire region.

I can't keep this secret, however. Trapped in this life peppered with
misery and suffering, all of humanity should be able to experience this
much fun. I can only speak with experience about my own kind of bod, but
perhaps some conjecture is worthwhile at this point. While female pelvic
floor neuroanatomy has significant differences to that typical of
Y-chromosome-modified humans such as your Author, both gender's nerves
share the same fundamental biochemical and physiological mechanisms
underlying their function, and are also likely to give you much more bang
for your buck than you have yet experienced, if correctly energised.

Urologist Helen Connell of the University of Melbourne published an
article in the Journal of Urology (vol 159, p1892, 1998) which will
usefully guide the studious and curious to where the best points of
application are most likely located for the female (the standard
navigational text, Gray's Anatomy, is disappointingly wrong in this
department). Regardless of one's academic inclination, it's just a matter
of experimenting to find where the zap is most enjoyably applied, and what
waveforms, electrode materials (metal, carbon, conductive polymer, sponge
soaked in salty water?), electrode shapes (different shapes distribute
current differently), electrolytes, current paths and connection locations
suit you best.

Be more careful than I was, though. Death by genital electrocution is not
a dignified way to go, regardless of how it feels. Start with low
voltages, waveforms well below 200Hz, quality electrolyte gel, and
batteries. Note: if using batteries you will need a signal generator,
since nerves work best when tickled with constantly changing voltage,
whereas batteries supply voltage which does not oscillate at all. In my
opinion, a sig gen and a couple of electrodes will represent bucks well
spent.

Happy zapping!


<predator>
March 28 2003