Four Motivational Profiles Reveal Why Men Use Internet-Connected Sex Toys

The market for internet-connected sex toys, known collectively as teledildonics, has grown from a niche curiosity into a multi-billion-dollar segment of the sextech industry, yet the psychological drivers behind their adoption have remained surprisingly opaque. A new study published in the Archives of Sexual Behavior offers the most granular picture to date of why male users actually reach for these networked devices. Drawing on survey data from 569 male customers of a single teledildonics company, researchers led by David Lafortune of the Université du Québec à Montréal used latent class analysis, a statistical technique that uncovers hidden subgroups within a population, to identify four distinct motivational profiles. The findings challenge the assumption that users of connected sex toys are a homogeneous group driven purely by the pursuit of novelty or pleasure, and instead reveal a landscape of motives that range from partner substitution to emotional regulation and technological enthusiasm.

Latent class analysis works by treating the patterns of answers across multiple survey indicators as signals of underlying, unobserved categories. In this study, the researchers measured five motivational indicators: arousal enhancement, relaxation, sexual satisfaction in a partner’s absence, boredom relief, and technology integration. Respondents rated how strongly each motive described their use of connected devices, and the analysis algorithm then searched for the number of classes, or profiles, that best explained the observed response patterns. A four-class solution emerged as the statistically optimal fit, meaning that the diversity of motivations among male teledildonics users could be efficiently summarized by four archetypes, each with its own internal logic, usage habits, and demographic signature.

The largest group, accounting for 38.2 percent of the sample, was labeled Solo Comfort Seekers. These users strongly endorsed the motive of sexual satisfaction in a partner’s absence, positioning the technology as a form of partner substitution rather than a novelty gadget. Their behavior was characterized by regular pairing of teledildonics with pornography, suggesting that the connected toy functions as one component within a broader solitary sexual routine mediated by digital content. For this group, the interactive and responsive qualities of the devices may simulate, at least in part, the presence of another person, filling a relational gap whether due to singleness, separation, or the ordinary rhythms of a relationship in which a partner is frequently away.

The second largest profile, the Low-Regulation Users at 30.3 percent, displayed the weakest endorsement of relaxation and boredom relief as motives. In other words, these men were not primarily using connected sex toys as tools for soothing stress or filling idle hours. Their engagement appears to be more straightforwardly erotic, focused on arousal and pleasure without a strong self-regulatory component. This distinction matters because a growing body of research on sexual behavior, echoing classic work on the functional motivations for sex, argues that people engage in sexual activity for reasons that extend well beyond pleasure, including coping with negative emotions, managing loneliness, or escaping boredom. The Low-Regulation profile demonstrates that a substantial share of teledildonics users sits squarely in the classic pleasure-driven camp.

The third profile, Standalone Toy Users, made up 22.6 percent of the sample and showed the lowest endorsement of technology integration as a motive. Consistent with that motivational indifference to connectivity, these users favored manual, non-interactive devices. Their presence in the dataset is intriguing: even within a customer base of a connected sex toy company, roughly one in five men reported using toys in ways that downplay the technological features that define teledildonics. This suggests that the purchase of a smart device does not guarantee its smart use, and that some consumers treat internet-connected toys as simply well-engineered conventional sex toys, choosing to ignore or rarely activate the remote and interactive capabilities that companies invest heavily in developing.

The smallest but perhaps most theoretically interesting class was the Tech-Integrated Regulators, comprising 8.9 percent of users. This group moderately to strongly endorsed all five motives simultaneously and almost always used teledildonics in conjunction with pornography. For these men, connected devices serve a constellation of functions at once: heightening arousal, promoting relaxation, compensating for a partner’s absence, relieving boredom, and satisfying an appetite for technological novelty. The near-universal combination with pornography in this group points to a highly integrated digital sexual script, in which interactive hardware, streaming content, and regulatory motives form a single, cohesive ecosystem of use. Whether such multi-motivated engagement carries any implications for sexual health or compulsivity is a question the authors flag for future research.

Beyond the motivational typology itself, the study examined how class membership related to sociodemographic characteristics, usage modalities, and sexual satisfaction. The researchers analyzed associations with variables such as age, sexual orientation, and relationship status, as well as usage frequency, concurrent pornography use, and the type of sex toy employed. This analytical strategy reflects a broader shift in sexology and technology adoption research: rather than asking whether people use a technology, investigators increasingly ask how, why, and in what relational context, recognizing that the same device can serve radically different purposes in different lives. The four profiles are therefore not merely descriptive curiosities but building blocks for theoretical models that connect sexual motivation, technology design, and intimate practice.

The authors emphasize that teledildonics practices are embedded in complex individual and relational contexts, shaped by far more than the pursuit of sexual pleasure. That conclusion carries practical weight. For designers, recognizing that a large share of users deploy connected toys as instruments of comfort and partner substitution rather than gadgetry argues for interfaces and features that acknowledge intimacy and companionship, not just interactivity. For public health professionals, the profiles suggest that tailored sexual health promotion, including messaging about safe use, privacy, and balanced engagement with digital sexual content, should be stratified by motivational profile rather than aimed at an undifferentiated mass of consumers. A one-size-fits-all approach risks missing the Solo Comfort Seeker who may be navigating loneliness, just as it may alienate the pleasure-focused Low-Regulation User who has no interest in therapeutic framing.

The study also sits within a rapidly expanding scholarly conversation about digital intimacy. Related work has examined sextech adoption across national samples, the role of technology-mediated sexual interaction in romantic relationships and attachment, the emergence of so-called digisexuality as a sexual identity, and the foundations of erobotics, the study of erotic machines. Teledildonics occupy a unique position in that landscape because they are tactile, interactive, and increasingly compatible with virtual reality and long-distance partnered play. As the devices proliferate, understanding the motivational architecture of their users becomes a prerequisite for evidence-based design standards, privacy protections, and clinical guidance. The dataset underlying the study has been made publicly available, an unusual and welcome transparency measure in a field where commercial funding is common; the company whose customers were surveyed supported recruitment and data collection, while the researchers report maintaining independent control over data access and analysis.

Several limitations warrant caution in interpreting the findings. The sample consisted of customers of a single teledildonics company, which may not represent the broader population of connected toy users, and the cross-sectional design captures a snapshot rather than trajectories of use over time. The self-reported motivational indicators, while carefully chosen, cannot exhaust the full range of reasons people might have for using such devices. Still, the four-profile solution offers a robust empirical scaffold for the next generation of research, including longitudinal studies, comparisons across manufacturers and platforms, and investigations of how these profiles shift across the lifespan or in response to relationship changes. What the study makes unmistakably clear is that the question of why men use connected sex toys has not one answer but four, and that the future of intimate technology will be written not by a single type of user but by a diverse public whose motives span comfort, pleasure, regulation, and the sheer fascination of machines that respond to touch.

Subject of Research: Motivational profiles of male users of internet-connected sex toys (teledildonics) identified through latent class analysis.

Article Title: Why Do Male Users Engage with Connected Sex Toys? A Latent Class Analysis of Motivational Profiles

Article References: Lafortune, D., Dussault, É., Canivet, C., Williams, M. E., & Dubé, S. (2026). Why Do Male Users Engage with Connected Sex Toys? A Latent Class Analysis of Motivational Profiles. Archives of Sexual Behavior. https://doi.org/10.1007/s10508-026-03535-w

Image Credits: AI Generated

DOI: 10.1007/s10508-026-03535-w

Keywords: teledildonics, sex toys, sextech, latent class analysis, sexual motivation, male users, pornography use, sexual satisfaction, digisexuality, technology adoption, digital intimacy, sexual health