A serious case of hangry crotch beast
I was beyond pissed. The way I was feeling at that moment, if I could have amputated my entire lower body, and stole someone else's, I would have done it. No hesitation.
My vulva and the opening of my vagina were burning like crazy. I had tried everything, from drinking large bottles of water to new cleaning routines to healing salves to exorcism to just sitting butt-naked on my bed for hours in hope of airing it out. All in vain. I even made the mistake to consult the internet, who insisted that I had flesh-eating pussy cancer fever. I'm not even gonna tell you what treatments it proposed.
It had been like that for days. My gynecologist, of course, had no free time slots this month.
But the unrelenting pain was only part of the equation. Being no stranger to chronic pain, at some point, I learned to live with it - unhappy, waddling around broad-legged like the world's saddest cowgirl, but I managed.
No, to add insult to injury, this was precisely the time my libido decided to spiral out of control.
See, my libido is extremely volatile. I have gone literally years without wanting let alone having sex, perfectly happy. No interest in masturbation, even. One of those low-libido eras had triggered the collapse of a long-term relationship - good riddance, by the way.
And then, sometimes, it all comes back, with a vengeance.
It just so happened that I caught a serious case of hangry crotch beast at the same time as said beast decided to spontaneously combust.
I could barely even touch my vulva without receiving the pain-equivalent of a cat hissing at you in anger. Angry pussy, indeed. And it's not like indirect stimulation was an option - just getting wet made things worse. Sex with another human being? What a concept.
As you can imagine, this was not a fun time to be my roommate. To say I was a bit unfiltered, during those difficult times, would be an understatement.
Anyway, all of this to set the stage for the little story I'm gonna share with you now. Maybe you'll judge me at least a little less harshly, given the context. If not, I dunno. May your groin be consumed by The Double Burn as well, I suppose.
~~~
So it was a Sunday, late afternoon. The weekend withering away and dying - already the crappiest time of the week even if you were in top physical condition.
Three of my roommates had gone out to do something fun, while I was stuck with the B-team: Lazy-Karl, playing one of his silly video games, and Yours Truly, sitting next to him on the living room sofa with one little black storm cloud hovering above her head and another one above her crotch. I was thinking about ways to casually murder my boy Karl, not because I hated him all that much, just to pass the time.
"Okay, THAT," I finally snapped, pointing at the screen. "The Boobs-And-Butt pose? That was a controversy over TEN YEARS ago. This game came out, what, a month ago? Am I going insane?"
Lazy-Karl shrugged without turning his head. "It's an HD-remake of the original game. They tried to stay true to the spirit, I guess."
"Start from scratch, that's what they should have done." I sunk back into the sofa cushions with a little growl.
I checked the social media inferno on my cellphone. Today, it didn't take long for it to give me nausea.
So much pain. So much boredom. So much wrath. I couldn't even take a nap, because closing my eyes made my head spin. Was I actually in hell? Was Lazy-Karl actually a demon guard, with the headache-inducing electronic noises and flashing lights he produced on his infernal instrument?
I had enough. "Can you turn that shit off, actually? I'm kinda dying, over here."
Karl groaned, but with a shrug, he obeyed. All of my roommates knew about the specifics of my condition. Because I had told them. I had very much told them. A full briefing, in graphic detail, if you can believe it.
He let his head fall back, and pulled out his own phone.
I narrowed my eyes. Maybe it was the single tiny bread crumb stuck in his black, curly beard that really sent me over the edge. "Dude. Is that literally all you do, with your free time? Games and phone? I know we're not hanging out much, but I have NEVER seen you do anything else. Is this what your life is like?"
He stared at me incredulously, and silently gestured to my entire person.
"Well, I am literally dying of flesh-eating pussy cancer fever," I reminded him. "What's wrong with YOU, man?"
"I don't need much to be happy," the boy protested. "If more people were like me, the world would be a better place."
"You should start a religion. Better yet, don't." I took a deep breath, staring at the ceiling. "I dunno. Wanna play cards, or something? How about poker?"
He actually looked a little worried. "You know... I don't really play... Not exactly my thing..."
"Then I'll teach you, since apparently, I am a charity for dull little boys," I said.
We sat down on the big plush carpet between the sofa and the TV.
Despite my best efforts, the boy was hopeless. It was as if his mind was a sieve, forgetting the rules as fast as he could memorize them. He had the attention span of a goldfish with short attention span. Was that the infamous video game brain rot our parents had always warned us about?
When he messed up yet again, I felt as if the teeth in my mouth were growing longer and pointier. "You know what? I believe you need some proper motivation, boy. To help you focus. I'm turning this into strip poker now. Except you also gotta take your clothes off when you get one of the rules wrong."
"I, uh..." he never had been a fan of eye contact, but now he genuinely couldn't look me in the eyes. For the first time, his detached, laid-back attitude was crumbling. He was furiously blushing above his silly beard. That alone already improved my day.
"It's either that or you go outside and find something better to do," I insisted. "To get this started, take off your socks."
Reluctantly, he obeyed. I knew that he knew that it was better to humor me, in my current state, and I would take full advantage of that, thank you kindly.
Big feet, on that kid. They could have eaten my own for breakfast. The smell was not ideal, but I have experienced worse. Well-shaped toes, and trimmed toenails. Would probably have looked really nice with a little color. I casually reached out and gave those piggies a good squeeze. Remember, my mind was in a weird place.
"You better learn fast," I sang. "What with the heating situation in this place."
