too much, not enough (reupload)

as you probably already know, ts2 was recently banned. i didn’t keep any copies of the stories i had posted there for various reasons, but i haven’t deleted this one to make room for a new one yet. i may choose to rework some of my previous stories. this is the only surviving one for now.

the magnolias are blooming again, and i’m still here. those great white petals burst forth proudly every year to proclaim the return of summer before their peaceful fall to earth. the magnolias are easy to enjoy.

i don’t remember the first time he tried to penetrate me. i know my muscles clenched so tightly that, despite his best efforts, he could not. i escaped unscathed that time.

i had vaginismus for the remainder of the time i was with him and then for a few years after that, too. it was my body’s final effort to protect me in spite of my mind which seemed willfully eager to throw me to the wolves. it couldn’t save me forever, though it never gave up trying. once his cock breached that barrier there was no turning back, no way left to stop him from having all of me.

my vaginismus didn’t resolve after that. it stayed with me as a blaring, excruciating reminder of my failure to heed my body’s warning. excruciating indeed. it felt more like being stabbed than being fucked, only i would survive to feel it again and again and again; besides, i didn’t know any different at the time. each moment was its own little nightmare compounded by the painful memories of those which preceded it. my cunt was trying too hard to protect me for too long, but it never tried quite hard enough.

others came after him. they had the decency of concern but the blessing of my encouragement. i walked into the knife time and time again in a desperate plea to myself — be normal, and easy to enjoy.

those lovers were not sadistic enough to find pleasure in my pain. they backed off eventually despite my insistence that everything was fine, normal, and easy to enjoy. my neurosis was too much for them, but i was never able to embrace it enough to let myself fall peacefully into my own condition.

even still i often find it difficult to see myself as i am, a masochist, a trauma whore. i compare myself to others: my scars are flat, not raised. i sentence my own punishment and deprive myself of indulgence until i begin to suffocate. maybe i will never fully accept my desires, but with each passing season i find them easier to enjoy.