#but my pelvic floor is likely Dysfunctional

[trixree]

The way that all nurses and medical assistants universally possess the inexplicable urge to tell me how young I am. "You're so young!" "And at such a young age?" "Oh you poor thing, huh?" "You're too young to be here!"

I get that you want to express your sympathies re: my shambling corpse, but consider for half a moment that I know how old I am. You don't need to REMIND ME that I'm a solid 2 decades younger than your typical patient, I PROMISE I am Aware of That. I am here to pay a man to quite literally strap on a motherfucking headlamp, get a Tool, and go rooting around inside my rectum. Thank you for making sure everyone in the room knows I'm 22 for some godforsaken reason

[dreamlogic]

...

[aceinspaces]

oh I have a positive update since I sorta left this blog by the wayside for a bit. But I have some happy stories from the last months

but I have the BEST nurse practitioner now from a pelvic pain specialist clinic. She is truly an Angel and I want to be her when I grow up even though I’m 25. I wanna brag on this woman. When my insurance didn’t approve my endo medication to relieve my pain she stomped down the hall and returned to me with a brown paper sack with a FOUR MONTH SUPPLY said it was a “free sample” and then within two days had my insurance rep meekly agreeing that the drug should be covered haha and found a local pharmacy in my area that had it for me. She apparently reamed them out over the phone that she is an expert in treating pelvic abdominal pain and their approval computer is not and does this on the regular for her patients. Holy shit.

when I had bladder pain she was on top of it figuring out if it was an adhesion, inflammation, or what and giving me treatment to relieve my pain. Holy shit, it worked!?

she referred me to a pelvic physical therapist who took me from “I’m in pain whenever my body decides to be aroused, and I can’t pee.” To being able to actually masturbate without any discomfort. Yo for two years orgasms made me feel like I had been punched in the stomach and put me in so much pain I would be nauseous. I’m ace af but I got a real swell sleep aid back and that’s great. Plus I can pee again. Miracles. I can use the biggest dilator now. That’s huge. I was struggling with number 3 last time I posted here my dudes.

recently I told her I was terrified my treatment options would be impacted by roe, and she said she would lawyer up or drive across state lines to refer me to a surgeon if anyone tried to tell her not to make her patients a priority or how to treat them. She knows I’m not interested in children and despite my age she promises the second my less invasive medications don’t work she will start working on a plan to remove the affected tissue even if they need to remove structures like Fallopian tubes or one of my very cyst-ridden ovaries because I know who I am and can decide my reproductive future obviously. (A really rare point of view in a lot of folks in the gyno setting tbh). ((I don’t want to recover from a surgery rn and the medicines have been effective so I’m ok))

I would cry and remember being physically hurt during exams by other doctors and nurses before going to appointments. I have trauma surrounding medical situations due to the neglect I faced in the past. This past august for the first time in a good while I went into her office and had full faith she would care about my concerns and hold my interests as a priority in my treatment. I have NEVER had a provider like this before. I’ve gained my functional daily life back enough to go back to uni, I’m in nursing school.

I genuinely want to be someone like her who makes people who have been vulnerable and ignored in the healthcare setting feel seen. Even if I could only become a fourth the nurse she is it would be an honor. My life has been measurably improved because I finally have a provider who listens to me. I still got endo, I still have bad days when I flare up, but I have tools to cope with it now and the flares have been less severe and less frequent. Surgery in the future when my insurance stabilizes will be the ideal way to reduce the pain long term but until then… I’m doing better than I have in years with her.

[whataperfectwasteoftime]

Trigger Points

Pairing: Erotic Massage Therapist Ezra x f!reader (not romantic)

Rating: E (explicit smut, 18+ only)

Word Count: 5.1k

Warnings: Medical kink, massage kink (is that a thing?), erotic massage, mentions of sexual dysfunction and difficulty orgasming, consent forms, the clinical is erotic now, power imbalance due to the masseur/patient dynamic, mentions of uhhh *checks notes* anal massage, lots of vaginal fingering I mean massaging, pelvic floor massaging but make it erotic, dubcon only in the sense that Ezra says orgasm is not the goal and then definitely deliberately gives her one anyway, g-spot orgasms, squirting, Penny gets on her soapbox at the end

Summary: Ezra is a massage therapist. What kind, you ask? Internal massage. That’s it that’s the fic.

A/N: I wrote this in twenty-four hours in a horny unhinged writing frenzy. Am I embarrassed that this came from my brain? Yes. Am I posting it anyway? Also yes. Thank you to @littlebirdsbookshelf for the beta (and all of the screaming) and to @leslie-lyman for egging on the medical kink that I definitely don't have.

Masterlist

You aren’t sure what you’re doing here.

This isn’t like you.

As you stare at the nondescript building–no sign, no name on the door–you think back to the seemingly random circumstances that brought you here.

The party you hadn’t wanted to go to. 

The friend–acquaintance–who insisted.

The man with a distinctive blonde streak that kept lingering by the snack table and popping cocktail shrimp into his mouth with an enthusiasm that had made you look twice in wary amusement.

Like so many men, he’d taken your glance in his direction as an invitation to come over and start a conversation, but the resulting discussion was decidedly unlike any other man–or human–you’d come across.

Loquacious to the point of being humorous, the man–Ezra, he told you–was disarming and insightful. You opened up to him immediately; he seemed to have this uncanny ability to pull your life’s story from your lips, much to your surprise and chagrin. Did you really tell a strange man at a party that you’ve been from doctor to doctor, complaining of sexual pain and dysfunction, only to be given dismissive, unhelpful advice? Have a glass of wine, one said. Use different soap, said another. Make sure your laundry detergent is fragrance-free. 

“I think I’m just built wrong,” you said bitterly, taking a sip from your wine glass. “Anyway, it’s fine. You didn’t sign up to listen to a stranger’s problems at some house party.”

“On the contrary,” Ezra replied mysteriously, raising one eyebrow as he regarded you with amusement. “I think our fortuitous meeting must have been arranged by the universe itself.”

Fishing his wallet out of his back pocket, he had handed you a business card that had only his first name–Ezra, no last name, and a phone number.

“I just happen to be a certified massage therapist, trained to assist with the very complaints of which you speak.”

“What kind of massage?” you’d asked, scrunching up your face in skepticism.

“Internal massage.”

You may have told him to fuck off then and there. You may have made your excuses and left the party in your embarrassment over having spilled your heart to a stranger with a questionable line of work, to say the very least. 

…You may have called two weeks later to inquire about an appointment.

The woman who answered the phone in that same kind of warm, soothing tone that seems to be common in so many legitimate massage practices made you feel slightly less insane about calling. The lengthy consent form she emailed after hanging up, however, sent you spiraling again.

Extensive questions about sexual history, your beliefs about sex, your relationship to sex, your experience with pain, dysfunction, your sexuality, etc. Check boxes indicating your level of experience and comfort with a number of sexual acts and situations. And at the end, three check boxes asking whether you would like to be massaged vaginally, anally, or both. 

A bell tinkles pleasantly when you open the door, and the scent of lavender fills your nose. Soft, soothing music plays from a hidden speaker somewhere, and one of those self-contained rock garden water fountains bubbles away in the corner of the brightly lit waiting room.

A woman behind the desk greets you–it must be the same one you’d spoken to on the phone–and checks you in. She walks you through what to expect during the appointment–first, you’ll meet with Ezra to discuss the consent form, then you’ll be asked to disrobe and lay on the massage table under a sheet. The type of care you’re given, she tells you, depends on what you put down on the consent form, which of course she hasn’t read, so she can’t tell you any specifics. 

“But he specializes in women with sexual dysfunction?” you ask skeptically. It had said as much on the forms. 

“Oh, yes,” the woman nods enthusiastically. “I know it’s an unusual service he provides, but Ezra is a professional, conscientious, and passionate about the work he does.”

You nod slowly, and she flashes you a warm, comforting smile before instructing you to sit anywhere.

You do, trying not to look too nervous as you wait.

Thankfully, you aren’t there for too long before a door opens, and Ezra softly calls your name.

Your nerves cause you to babble as you follow the man to the quiet, dimly-lit massage room. “Sorry I told you to fuck off,” you say. “That was pretty rude, and I’m sure it’s weird that I’m here now even though I clearly thought you were a pervert at the party, and–” you trail off, standing awkwardly beside the massage table as Ezra sits on a rolling stool.

“Now, now. Water under the bridge, I assure you, sprite. My profession is often met with skepticism at best and outright hostility at worst, but I let the testimonials speak for themselves. I assume you’ve read them?”

You nod, thinking back to the paragraphs of women saying they’d never known their bodies were capable of such pleasure before experiencing what they had called erotic massage.

“And I have read your consent form very carefully; I like to commit these things to heart, you see. Helps me do my job to the very best of my ability. Now, I did have a question about your very last answer: you made a checkmark indicating you were interested in vaginal massage only, but drew in a little question-mark next to anal massage.”

“I’m not sure yet,” you say, too quickly, jumbling the words together. “Depends on how… how…”

“How everything goes. Of course.” Ezra nods, making a quick note on your form. “I’ll consider you to be a vaginal-only patient for now, to be revisited at a later date if so desired.”

“Kay,” you squeak.

“Allright, let me give you a rundown of how this works. I’m not a sex worker; my job isn’t to make you orgasm. Like any massage therapist, my job is to find muscles that need to be worked out, and work them out. I just happen to specialize in muscles that other areas of practice typically ignore. This will involve both internal and external work–you might find that I might press on your lower abdomen, for example, with the other hand inside you. I always start slow with new patients; I’ll begin externally, massaging the entire pubic area and finding spots that might require extra attention. When you’re ready, we’ll move to an internal massage starting with one finger and seeing how many is most comfortable for you right now. Eventually, as we progress through your appointments, the goal is for the internal massage to involve two hands.

“Now, all that being said, the goal of these sessions might not be orgasm, but I want to let you know that it is normal and okay if that happens during your massage,” Ezra continues. “This is a safe space, and your comfort and pleasure is encouraged through this process. All of that seem hunky-dory?”

“Mmhmm,” you nod rapidly.

“Perfect. If you’re ready to get started, I’ll leave the room so you can get undressed. You can undress only from the waist down if you’re comfortable, or you can disrobe completely; the rest of you will be covered by the sheet, so it’s all down to what you prefer.”

Ezra leaves, the door clicking shut behind him, and you take a few moments to steady yourself before taking off only your pants and underwear. Grimacing at the awkwardness, you tuck the underwear into your jeans and place your shoes on top of both on the spare chair in the corner of the room. Then, you lie down under the sheet and wait.

Ezra taps lightly to herald his return before opening the door. “Good,” he says, seeing you laying stiffly on the massage table. “I’m going to check in many times during this first appointment especially,” he explains. “So much so that you may tire of it. You may simply say ‘good,’ when I ask how you are feeling, and I will continue. If you do not feel good at any point, I must ask that you say so. Sound okay?”

“Yes.”

“Good. Now, this massage table is custom made for my area of practice specifically,” Ezra explains, reaching under the table and unfolding a pair of stirrups–the kind you’ve seen many times at the gynecologist–and you grimace.

“Ah, I know, most people on this table do not have the most positive memories associated with these,” Ezra tuts, “and if you aren’t sure about using these, we can simply rest your legs on either side of the table.”

“I think I’m okay,” you tell him, cautiously reaching your feet out until your legs are uncomfortably splayed open. 

“You tell me if that changes.” Ezra sits down on the stool and rolls it over to sit at the front of the table. “I’m going to do the external massage with the sheet down,” he says. “No need for a cold breeze if it isn’t necessary, after all. As discussed before, I’m going to feel around the entire pubic area, finding anything that needs extra attention. If you’ve gotten a regular massage, you might notice that this one is much gentler; there won’t be any harsh poking or prodding, just light pressure and rubbing. If that’s all good, sprite, say the word and I’ll begin.”

“I’m good.”

“Very good. First, we’re going to warm up a little by touching your inner thighs. All muscles in this area are interconnected, so this will help soften things up as well.” 

You keep your eyes closed and let out a slow breath through pursed lips as you feel Ezra’s large, warm hands slowly working out the tension in your thighs. The unfamiliar feeling of someone’s hands in such an intimate area is an odd one, at first, but you can’t help but slowly begin to relax as he works out the delicate muscles of the upper-most part of your legs.

“Checking in again, sprite, how are we feeling?”

“Good,” you answer, with a little more confidence this time. “It’s good.”

“Excellent,” Ezra praises. “If we’re feeling nice and comfortable about it, I’m going to start to move upward and inward. You’ll feel me touch your outer labia, your perineum, and your pubic bone as we move forward. How do we feel about that?”

“Nervous,” you admit, giggling awkwardly. “But good.”

“Of course, sprite, it’s normal to be nervous about an unfamiliar sensation. Always remember that you are able to say ‘stop’ at any time.”

At your nod, Ezra’s hands shift, his thumbs beginning to rub up and down the outside of your labia. He rubs little circles around the entire area, including–something that makes your entire body flush with heat immediately–the skin just above your little puckered hole. 

“I know, I know,” Ezra soothes. “Just trying to get a complete picture here. We aren’t doing any internal massage in this area, but you may feel my fingers on the skin around it occasionally.”

“Okay,” you agree, nodding again.

“You’re doing so well, sprite. I’m going to stay external, but we’re going to start to examine a little deeper, does that sound okay? I’ll be rubbing your inner labia this time, spreading them apart to examine your vulva, urethra, and clitoris with my fingers. This is where it might start to feel pleasurable, or it could feel odd and uncomfortable as you become accustomed to this type of massage.”

“Yep,” you say, voice tight with anxiety again.

“I need a little bit more than that, sprite,” Ezra chastises. “Are you good to continue?”

“Yes. Good.”

“I can tell you’re nervous; why don’t you take a deep breath in for me for the count of five…” he counts slowly as you obey, “...and as you let it out slowly, you’re going to feel my hands move inward.”

The feel of Ezra running his slicked fingers up and down your inner labia doesn’t feel quite as uncomfortable as you’d feared. You’ve never been touched like this, or even touched yourself like this. It’s an exploration of sorts, collecting some data that means something only to him, perhaps. After a short time, he pulls you apart with his thumb and forefinger, spreading you open. 

“I’m going to rub back and forth just on the surface level,” Ezra says, “You might feel my thumb press down on a few places to locate any areas to focus on later.”

You take more slow, even breaths as you feel his warm thumb move from your perineum to your clit, then back down again. In a few places, he presses down, rubbing gentle circles with his thumb as he locates some unknown source of tension.

“How well you're doing,” Ezra praises warmly. “I've definitely found some areas of tension that we can work on during your sessions. This isn't the end of the external massage, per se, as I'll still want to work on some of those spots, but this is where I start to add an internal component, if you're up to it. What are we thinking?”

“Yeah,” you agree. “I'm okay with that.”

“Good. As I explained before, I'm going to start very slow. I work with clients with a wide range of comfort levels and ability, and I'm not going to push anyone too far before they're ready. Not to be glib or reductive, but this is not dissimilar to a basic shoulder massage. I'll be working all along the muscles of your vaginal wall. We'll start with just one finger, and if that's comfortable for you, we'll see how it goes with two. I'm going to slowly slide one finger in, let you adjust to how that feels, and then I'll begin the massage on your right side, moving to the back, the left, and then the front, around in a little circle like so. At the same time I'll be gently pressing with my other hand so that I can get a feel for the muscles that are stiff, sore, or carry any tension. If at any point any sensation is unpleasant, please bring it to my attention immediately. In that event, I will stop and reassess. If that discomfort is the result of muscle or pelvic floor tension, we will slowly, slowly work through it without causing you any pain. Is all of this acceptable?”

“Yes.”

“And am I okay to begin your internal massage?”

“Yes.”

“Very good. Just as before, I'm going to spread open your labia nice and wide, only this time you are going to feel my finger slowly enter you. Once inside, we'll take a few deep breaths together, I'll ask if you are comfortable, and I'll begin the massage.”

As Ezra speaks, he does each action in turn. You feel your labia being parted, and then one slick, warm finger slips inside. It hits a bit of resistance when he passes your pelvic floor, but doesn't cause any pain. At his instruction, he guides you through three deep breaths as you become accustomed to the sensation.

“I'm going to begin moving now,” he announces. “Beginning on your left side.”

It's an odd feeling to adjust to, the way Ezra’s finger moves inside you. With his other hand pressing sometimes on your hip, sometimes at your side, you can feel him pressing against your wall in–true to his word–the same way one might massage a shoulder. This is just… very different. Or perhaps it's the same, and your brain only perceives it as such. 

Despite the awkwardness of having someone rubbing such an intimate, deep, vulnerable part of your body, you can admit that something does feel good about this. Ezra is right, of course; there are muscles internally as well as externally, and you've never had yours attended to in such a way before. 

Ezra’s finger rubs this way and that, covering all possible knots and tense spots on that particular side. 

“Checking in, sprite,” he intones gently. “How does it feel?”

“Weird… but kinda good. I think I understand why you say it's just like a shoulder massage–I never really thought about having muscles there, but… I can feel them relaxing the same way they would as… as if it were my shoulder.”

“No physical difference between the two,” Ezra says, voicing your earlier thought. “Only up here do we make a distinction.” He taps the side of his head and gives you a sideways grin. “If we’re feeling pretty good with one, would you like to try adding one more? It all depends on your level of comfort, but it is easier to get at the muscles with two, rather than one. Would you like to try?”

The gentle loosening of the muscles you hadn't even known were tense is surprisingly soothing, so of course, you agree.

“You're doing so well at checking in with me,” Ezra says. “Take a nice deep breath for me, and we’ll switch to two fingers. Ready?”

You make a little noise of assent, and as you exhale, you feel the pressure inside you increase as Ezra slips another finger inside you. 

“Doing good, sprite. I’m going to move to the muscles at the back of your vaginal walls now, which means my other hand is going to be pressing up on your lower back and buttocks. Is this fine?”

“That’s fine, yeah,” you nod, and at your consent, Ezra goes back to his steady, methodical working of your pelvic floor. 

At this new angle, the sensations inside you are new and different from before. When he was massaging your left side, all you could really feel was the gentle push and pull as your muscles were soothed and relaxed. You can still feel the muscle tension easing away… but it’s very quickly being replaced by a different kind.

You try to focus on taking deep breaths in and out of your nose as Ezra seems to draw heat into your core with every stroke. You stop focusing on the relaxation entirely, instead concentrating every effort to not make any awkward noises that indicate how much your body is responding to his touch.

You really should have known better.

“Many people find that different areas of the vaginal wall can cause different kinds of sensations,” Ezra says quietly as he gently rubs small circles from within you while pressing just above your puckered hole. “The front vaginal wall, of course, has the tendency to produce the strongest impression because of what most people call the g-spot, but the rear wall is also very responsive. I want to remind you of what we discussed earlier; that you are welcome and encouraged to lean into those feelings. It is common for patients to come to orgasm multiple times during a session, and can be helpful for further muscle relaxation. All this to say, sprite, you don’t have to work to suppress the fact that this feels pleasurable. Of course it does. It’s far more advantageous for you to allow it to happen rather than spend the session working to rein it in. Understand?”

“Y-Yeah,” you nod, trying to sink back down onto the massage table again and stop fighting against your body’s automatic responses.

Even so, you don’t really believe you could orgasm from just this. Hell, you can barely orgasm during sex even when you use a vibrator. Your body’s need for intense, prolonged clitoral stimulation is simply a fact. A law, as immutable as gravity, and no amount of “internal massage” would ever have the same effect. 

“If you ever do wish to revisit that last little question on the consent form, one type of treatment that can be incredibly effective is to massage the area in between, if you take my meaning,” Ezra comments lightly, as though discussing the weather. “It’s perfectly workable through what I’m doing now, of course, but even though I’m capturing the same general area, in my years of practice I’ve actually found that anal massage is an important component in achieving a comprehensive relaxation of all pelvic muscles.”

“Okay,” you say dumbly. His words–all the more impactful because of the detached clinical tone–combined with the constant pressure of his fingers, are creating a maelstrom of pleasure in your brain. You still aren’t sure if you’re “allowed” to find this entire situation to be incredibly erotic, but you worry you’ll soon have no choice, especially if your mind keeps conjuring up how it might feel to have both of Ezra’s hands rubbing something deep within you. How full you might feel.

“Nothing that needs to be discussed now or even in the near future, sprite,” he adds. “But just something to keep in the back of your mind as we progress through treatment.”

“Mm,” you agree. It’s–oh God, are you going to come? The pressure is building, building inside you, and even though there’s nothing touching your clit, it feels as though you might be reaching that point of no return. You make a soft, whining, desperate little sound as Ezra massages your vaginal wall with methodical precision.

“I know, I know,” he soothes in that syrupy voice of his. “Take a few deep breaths for me–I promise, it’s okay to let it go. Allow your body to do what it’s meant to do.” At this, he presses down even harder, and you gasp as you suddenly begin to clench around his fingers. Your chest heaves as you ride the waves of pleasure until they subside to a gentle ebb. Ezra remains still throughout it all, waiting patiently until you stop twitching with aftershocks.

“See? So much better when you listen to your body,” he praises. “Can you feel that? It causes your muscles to relax even further, so much more effectively than even I can manage. Feel the difference right here–” he rubs a wide circle up and down your wall, “–there’s so much less tension now, isn’t there?”

“Yeah,” you agree, still catching your breath.

“Let’s do a quick check-in before I move on,” Ezra suggests, “and while we do, I’d like to make a quick recommendation, if you are amenable.”

“That’s fine,” you answer. 

“Give us a quick run-down of how you’re feeling,” he says. “Any pain? Discomfort?” When you shake your head, he continues. “How about mentally? Orgasm can make us feel vulnerable, and that’s perfectly okay, of course, but not if it leads to feeling uncomfortable or unsafe.”

“It still feels a little… strange, but I’m okay.”

“Ah, of course. Now, as far as my recommendation… Now that you’re far more relaxed, I think it might be helpful to switch to three fingers. How do you feel about that?”

You swallow. “It might feel like a lot,” you admit quietly.

“Indeed,” Ezra agrees. “As a general rule, the more fingers I am able to use, the more effective the massage. The ideal internal massage would be either with all four fingers on one hand, or a combination of three and two. If you’re feeling at all apprehensive about discomfort, however, I think it would be better to wait and see, yes?”

“Yes,” you nod gratefully. 

“Moving on to your right side, sprite,” he says cheerfully. “Halfway there, and doing great.”

You can see what Ezra had been saying–you can feel that your walls are more pliant and moldable after your orgasm. However, it’s also made your nerves more sensitive to his touch, and the intense feeling of pleasure continues to flicker inside you with every gentle probe of his fingers. 

You begin to float, losing track of time and simply focusing on the sensations within you. Ezra quiets down when he senses your more meditative state, and continues to massage with minimal commentary. When his thick fingers begin to move, pressing upward toward your abdomen, however, your breath catches and your hips lift of their own accord.

“My apologies, sprite. I should have warned you I was moving to the front wall before I did so, but you were in such a state of utter relaxation that I was loathe to speak up.”

“S’fine.”

“You may find this area to be the most intense in terms of sensation,” Ezra comments. “There’s a reason I usually save it for last.”

You make a slightly garbled, strained noise of assent as his other hand rubs gentle circles on your mons pubis while the other continues its deliberate path up and down your walls, soothing out all of the tension and finding some incredibly sensitive spots as it does.

Ezra pauses over one such area, and, in such exquisite torture that makes you actually cry out into the room, curls both fingers up to apply even more pressure.

“Ah, that,” he chuckles to himself. “That thing–the little area they call the ‘g-spot’–it’s not some mysterious, unique phenomenon, nor is it mythological. What they didn’t know at the time–and far too many people still are not aware–is that the clitoris is much larger than just the little bit that we see on the outside.” His fingers rub little circles, back and forth, up and down, massaging so meticulously that it feels almost ruthless. “Sooo many nerves in one relatively small place,” he murmurs. “Stimulating the clitoris is normally the most reliable way to acheive orgasm, and yet so little of it is accessible. But here–” he presses up again, and you gasp, “–here we are able to access the other end of the organ.”

You can hardly concentrate on the original goal of muscle relaxation with so much pressure on your g-spot (or, apparently, the back of your clitoris) but you can still feel Ezra dutifully and clinically working out the tension in your pelvic floor. 

“Doing so well, sprite, so well. One nice, big, relaxing orgasm for me and then we’ll gently explore how the tension lessens afterward.”

Despite his insistence before your appointment that orgasm was not the goal of these sessions, you can’t help but notice Ezra appears to be guiding you towards one with masterful precision. With one hand applying light pressure on your abdomen and the other pressing upward to meet it, it feels as though he’s got the most sensitive organ of your body trapped between his fingers. He plays it like an instrument, each finger working independently to stroke different parts of the soft, spongy membrane. 

Finally, finally, the pressure becomes so much that you simply seem to implode; all at once, you clamp down on Ezra’s fingers like a vice as your lower back lifts from the table. A feeling of pure, hot, wet relief surges through you, and the release feels endless, as though your body simply cannot stop pulsing and contracting. Dimly, you realize that it must be the ruthless stimulation from Ezra’s hands keeping you suspended in what feels like a never-ending orgasm. His fingers press upwards, rubbing quickly and insistently back and forth against the sensitive organ, and the movement draws more and more rhythmic clenches that seem to ripple across the entire area. 

And–Oh, God–with each intense throb, little streams of fluid splash out over Ezra’s hand, and you realize with absolute mortification that the sheet, massage table, and Ezra’s white coat are already soaked with your release.

“Oh shit, I’m sorr–” you try to apologize as soon as you have the presence of mind.

“Now, now, not to worry, little sprite. Any manifestation of pleasure is welcomed and encouraged here, and I’ve been at this long enough to know that stimulating the back of the clitoris oftentimes results in strong and voluminous ejaculations…” You twitch with one last, pathetic aftershock, and Ezra soothingly rubs his fingers up and down your wall in the same way one might rub someone’s back after a long day. “But feel the difference, little sprite. Feel how supple and pliant your muscles are compared to before. This is the state we strive for, little sprite. Complete and utter relaxation. When you find yourself starting to tense up again–such is the consequence of the stressful lives we lead–I want you to call up this moment, and the way your pelvic muscles so easily move for my hand, and try to get back to this state. With enough practice on your own in between sessions, this will become easily achieved.

“I’m going to do a couple of nice, wide circles with my hand to stretch out those muscles one last time, and as I do, I’d like you to take some nice, deep, easy breaths with me. Once we get  to five nice big breaths, I’ll slowly remove my hand. Does this sound good?”

“Yuh-huh,” you nod.

“Nice big inhale,” Ezra reminds you, and you dutifully suck in a deep, cleansing breath of air as you feel his hand circle around your vaginal walls, pressing deep into the muscle as he does. You repeat the action four more times, and on your very last exhale, the light feeling of pressure within you finally abates as his fingers slip out of you. 

“How do you feel?”

“Pretty relaxed,” you say with a relieved laugh.

“Mentally?” he prods.

“I dunno, fine,” you shrug.

“Any feelings of vulnerability are normal,” he says as he stands from his stool and helps you guide your legs out of the stirrups and back onto the table under the sheet. “You may find that these feelings may be delayed by a few days, even, so be gentle with yourself for the next week or so. Light muscle soreness is also normal, in the same way it can occur after a normal massage. If at any time this light soreness transforms into pain, please do not hesitate to contact me.”

Ezra picks up your consent form again and scans it briefly before setting it back down and giving you a serious, thoughtful look. “You told me three weeks ago that you were ‘built wrong,’ and you mention several times in your form that you have difficulty bringing yourself to orgasm. Little sprite, I have lost count of the number of clients who have the same complaints and who have similarly insisted their bodies were simply different from ‘normal’ people’s. Now, mind you, the sample size may be biased, but from this data I can only conclude that no human being is ‘built wrong.’ The problem lies in our minds, and more specifically, in the social conditioning we’ve all received since birth–conditioning that in no way favors the female experience of pleasure. Society has failed you, has labeled your pleasure as secondary, illusive, impossible, or even imaginary. Your sessions with me will help to reverse the physical symptoms from a lifetime of unhelpful social conditioning, and now that you know your body is not only capable of experiencing pleasure, but of doing so in ways you weren’t even aware, your mind will follow.”

“Wow,” you breathe, awestruck by how different you feel. “Yeah, I think you’re right.”

“I’ll leave you to get dressed, little sprite,” Ezra says, briefly patting your hand in a comforting manner. “When you’re ready, go ahead and open the door and I’ll walk you to the lobby to schedule your next appointment.”

[yrfemmehusband]

It's endometriosis awareness month! Here's some general knowledge on my condition, as misinformation is constantly spread about it.

Endometriosis is a disease affecting 1 in 10 people with uteruses. A tissue similar to the endometrial lining, of period blood, grows and sheds on the outside of the uterus. As the menstrual cycle comes, the blood has nowhere to go. This causes intense pain and irritation to surrounding organs. It is one of the most painful diseases recorded.

Endometriosis was first discovered in 1860, though it was recognized in the Hippocratic Corpus around 4,000 years ago. Treatments have varied through the years, starting out with bloodletting, leeches, hanging upside down, exorcisms, genital mutilation, and chemical douches. During the Middle ages, the perception of chronic pelvic pain shifted from a recognized condition to something caused by hysteria, promiscuity, or it was made up. In the hayday of Hippocratic practice, Endometriosis was more common than it is today, likely due to the inaccessibility of diagnosis compared to 4,000 years ago. Somehow.

Today, treatments include birth control, surgery, hysterectomy, and pain relief. There is no cure.

It takes an average of 7-12 years for someone to receive a diagnosis.

Anyone can get endometriosis, including cis men

A hysterectomy is not a cure, as endometriosis will continue to grow and spread to other organs

The pain one experiences due to endometriosis does not correlate with staging. Staging reveals how extensive endometriosis lesions are, not pain. Someone with stage 1 could experience excruciating pain, while someone with stage 4 and frozen pelvis can experience no pain.

Endometriosis lesions are not endometrial lining. The tissue is similar, but not the same. Thus, no one actually knows what endometriosis actually is.

It is only diagnosable through laparoscopic surgery. It can be detected via imaging such as ultrasound or MRI, but more often than not, it isn't seen. You can have completely clear tests up until your surgery and still have even the higher stages of Endo (like me!) (this one was for all you undiagnosed people, you're not crazy!)

Endometriosis is comorbid with many things, including pelvic floor dysfunction, adenomyosis, vulvodynia, uterine cancer and fibroids, ovarian cancer, many autoimmune and inflammatory conditions (rheumatoid arthritis, MS, IBD), and cardiovascular disease.

I've provided links in each point and I deeply encourage you to read my sources, whether you have endo or not. Not enough people understand endometriosis so a lot of us who deal with it don't get grace or compassion, be it in our work lives, relationships, friendships, or family. People with endo, happy endometriosis awareness month.

[theweirdwideweb]

I'm convinced that you're god's bravest soldier

You're not wrong! At my post-colonoscopy GI consult on Monday I talked to a specialist about my chronic constipation. How long have I been chronically constipated? 22 years. Twenty. Two. Never understood wtf was so wrong with my butt. As it turns out I have pelvic floor dysfunction caused by my PTSD, specifically from being molested as a kid. It means my muscles down there are all clenched up to the point my butthole won't open all the way. I have a butthole disorder. I have to take laxatives and fiber probably forever to, like Goldilocks, make poop that is not too hard, not too soft, but just right for my too-tight asshole. I'm going in to see a specialist and they're going to run pelvic floor tests. One of which is inserting a catheter into my anus, inflating a balloon, and seeing if I can poop it out.

[dissociacrip]

this is okay to rb i think, especially if you have anything to add or any insight. idk. i'm tagging this the way that i am because i'm seeking community/connection(tm) or something

hypotonia is not like. a rare thing. not really. but i do remember my OT googling what it was.

low muscle tone/hypotonia may technically be a symptom rather than a diagnosis (barring benign congenital hypotonia, which afaik is controversial) but it's the closest thing to a "diagnosis" i've been given for some of this stuff because the potential cause of it hasn't been investigated and i guess it's not exactly urgent since my particular case isn't severe and doesn't seem progressive (hypotonia can be progressive & is involved in some progressive and degenerative conditions.)

but i wish it was talked about more and i wish more was known about it works and how it affects bodily function and i wish what we DO know about it was more accessible to the public when it comes to those who suffer from it. it's also kinda hard whether to KNOW you have it or not since its "signs" have so much overlap with other conditions that aren't related to muscle tone. it ranges a lot in severity too. and there's two different types (central and peripheral.) it's linked to dozens of diagnoses too which is why i say it's not uncommon.

but also i guess due to the complexity of how it affects the body and its lack of distinctiveness with most of its symptoms makes it kinda...hard to talk about? and i imagine w/ some people it's hard to distinguish the effects of hypotonia vs. their other problems. issues with chewing, writing, breathing, speaking, posture, coordination, etc. can be due to so many different things ranging from mental to physical. but it's not always something that can be lumped together w/ those other things because there's "my muscles don't work" in a terms of chronic muscular pain vs. "my muscles don't work" in terms of, like, they lack the ability to adequately support the body and bodily movement. if that makes any sense.

which ranges from someone like me where having to hold myself up sucks + mild motor skill/coordination impairments and mild developmental milestone delays, but others never meet those milestones or need assistance with things like breathing and ingesting food.

it's not a diagnosis but it can affect the body in complex ways like muscle shortening and stiffness due to our bodies having to compensate in weird ways for the lack of adequate tone (esp those of us who grew up with it), tibial torsion and femoral anteversion, flatfoot and knock-knees, reduced cervical lordosis sometimes leading to bruxism and occipital headaches, etc. PT centered around muscle strengthening to correct my "improper" movement and stuff.

and there's other stuff that can come with it that people like to consider """gross""" like drooling, constipation and other gastric, and pelvic floor dysfunction which can result in incontinence/problems with bladder control. muscles are involved in a lot of things. wild.

i'm rambling but i just wish more people talked about it. all i really have is that one interview that surestep did with meagan veracha, who has hypotonic cerebral palsy, about living with hypotonia as an adult.

maybe i wouldn't care all that much if i had a diagnosis that would "explain it" but "i might have gHSD/hEDS" doesn't rly do that for me because ppl in those communities obviously focus a lot on the joint dysfunction aspect (because those 2 conditions center around hypermobile joints so that's just natural, it's not a bad thing per-se, barring other problems that those communities have) but for me my case of symptomatic generalized hypermobility is secondary in how it impacts me vs. my muscles being bad at their job and my hypermobility might even be secondary to my hypotonia anyway.

dyspraxia/DCD (some people with it have hypotonia but not all - i thought i had it before i was told i was identified as having hypotonia when i was a kid...over two decades late) is another guess but again that centers more around coordination than things like "anything other than lying in bed is hard on me because my muscles don't support my body like they're supposed to."

maybe muscle tone is a complex medical concept that shouldn't really enter the public lexicon but i have no other language for it.

[aureutr]

Health update, featuring: DIAGNOSIS

I have been a chronic pain patient for a few years now. It's difficult to fully articulate how much pain changes your life, unless you are someone who has lived it or had a loved one live it.

Pain sucked away my energy and brainpower. I found myself sleeping more and more, first in naps after work then I was regularly calling out half days just to sleep. All the while, I was seeing doctor after doctor in hopes that someone would have an answer.

No one did. At first, it was almost a relief. It wasn't cancer, after all. But then the relief turned into disappointment and quickly into resignation. Labs were fine, X-ray was clear, CT was good. It should have been good news, except I still hurt all of the time and no one could tell me why.

The pain got worse. It peaked in Autumn 2022, when I finally got my first sliver of relief. Gabapentin kept the pain in control enough that I no longer had to regularly sleep half of the day, but it made me foggy. Still, it was easier to manage than the brain fog from pain, so I took it.

I still take it, and I’m on quite the high dose. It’s given me a semblance of a life back, but it’s not the answer or a cure. I still napped, I still hurt too much to even walk around a store for more than an hour or so. And, if I did, it would be my only activity for the day.

I lost my job late last year. I don’t believe it was because of the time I had to take, it was a mass layoff, but I’m certain it did not help. That, at least, ended up fine. I found a job I prefer with far better pay within a few months. And they’re, so far, understanding that I’m working through health problems.

But being unemployed was still a stressor, and I had learned that stress was integral to my pain. When I was stressed, it was worse. When I was calm, it was bearable.

I’ll skip describing another round of tests and hypotheses that went nowhere. In October 2023, my husband and I went to the Mayo Clinic or the Cleveland Clinic or John Hopkins (I am being intentionally vague here). This was our second time visiting, the first gave us absolutely nothing.

A nurse practitioner took a very quick look at me, too quick for our comfort, and declared the issue muscular. She recommended physical therapy. It seemed too simple, really. After all of that, all that money spent and time invested? It wasn’t like I hadn’t tried some exercise, but when moving makes your pain worse and worse pain zaps your energy, that’s difficult to maintain.

Still, I wasn’t going to turn my nose up at anything at this point. And it’s a damn good thing I didn’t.

The physical therapist I ended up seeing told me I had the strongest pelvic floor she’s ever seen. And that’s not a good thing. I have apparently taken literal decades worth of anxiety, depression, self-loathing, and any other negative emotion you can think of, and held them taut there, keeping my pelvic muscles almost constantly tensed.

And when you tense that much for that long, dysfunction arises.

My official diagnosis is Pelvic Floor Disorder. All of my PT has been focused on stretching, no strength training or cardio. I’m retraining my body to relax, to let go.

It has been amazing.

At the time of writing, I’ve been going to sessions for about six weeks. Already, I am eager to walk our dogs every day. I’ve gone out on my own or with friends to move.

The pain is not gone. But it is so much less that my pain clinic doctor is discussing reducing my gabapentin in a couple of months. And with decreased pain comes decreased brain fog.

Decreased brain fog means not only an improvement in my professional work, but space for fandom. I’ve written more than I’ve shared, lots of short private stuff for friends, but I haven’t had enough organized thought to re-approach the stories I put on hold.

I can’t promise anything, of course, but I hope that can change soon. I’ve been dabbling in Distant Echoes again, and it’s fun to be back in that world.

I’m not well. But I’m better. I’m so, so much better.

[calpalsworld]

I just realized Im over 6 months on T...!!!

My genuine review of T for others who may be considering or just interested in the topic.

Keep in mind that everyone will have different results on T. For me I am on a small dose because my T levels were already high to begin with.

Reasons why I went on T:

Was living out publicly as non binary but I would still feel upset when strangers would misgender me.

Had been wishing that I was more masc body wise and voice wise since at least high school.

Didn't have intense dysphoria but I felt very neutral about my body. It felt strange and like it wasn't progressing how I imagined it would. I had certain features that pissed me off, which I knew T would change.

Dysphoria was triggered in public interactions and when I had to acknowledge my body by myself. I felt like strangers weren't seeing me as me, and felt that I wasn't experiencing my body in the way I wanted to.

Pros:

Everything!!!

Voice that surprises me with how deep it is sometimes. When I lean back against a chair and speak I can feel my diaphragm rumble.

Menstruation stopped almost immediately.

(May be TMI but this is a major thing yet the only thing that I did not know was going to happen before starting). Rapid and significant genital changes. Psychologically helpful for me.

Hairier arms, stomach, and thighs.

Stomach fat and face fat increase. (potentially boob and thigh fat decrease but it may be placebo or just in contrast).

More facial fuzz.

Slightly veinier hands.

Slightly thicker/more muscular arms.

Looking at myself and seeing someone who looks good and confident and masc/butch and feeling great about it. Sometimes I look at myself in the reflections of building windows and get excited.

Being able to discuss T with other friends who are on T.

People misgender me as he/him and a man (Im non binary and go by they/them) more often than misgendering me as she/her and a woman now. This is still not ideal but it bugs me less.

Random queer strangers asking "are you on T!?" and being excited.

Knowing I dont have to live my life as a lie.

Cons:

My pre existing erotophobia (I'm triggered and obsessive over certain things relating to sex) has been activated as I experience new things.

My pre existing paranoia being rebranded into a trans related experience (I worry sometimes people are stalking me and planning to kill me for the slightest things I do wrong, now I worry that its because Im trans). This will go away once I work through my mental illness and internalized bigotry.

Voice hurt when the changes started (like a sore throat for a few weeks as if I was sick).

I cant do a lot of funny voices that I liked doing anymore, but I can do new voices.

New and strange sensations in genital area, during the first few weeks it was very painful (I have Pelvic Floor Dysfunction and Vaginismus so this may not be a universal experience).

Became slightly stinkier and oilier when I started, but it seems to have gone away.

I'm non binary and I still feel connected to women and I get anxious that people won't be able to comprehend that. (examples: others might not like me calling myself "butch" or sharing my experiences with womanhood). But this is internal rather than reflective of anything I've experienced. This may be entirely in my head.

Family awkwardness. Family members assuming crazy stories about how I feel. (generic things like: thinking i hate myself and am scared of men so i want to turn myself into a man?!?!😭😭😭). But friends and others do not assume these things.

(TMI but true) Thick buttcrack hair is annoying.

Future thoughts:

I feel very fortunate that my experience with T is going very well.

I know the best parts of T takes time and patience to become apparent so I am excited that I started at 21.

I am proud of achieving what I thought might only be a fantasy, and I hope I can have access to T for the rest of my life.

[my-autism-adhd-blog]

Do you have any information and/or resources on the link between Adult Autism and Bladder and/or Bowel Incontinence?

I was wondering because I feel like my Adult Autism which is high functioning has seemed to make me Incontinent and I’m not always aware when I have to go or when I am it is VERY VERY Urgent?

Hi there, I found some sources talking about this.

One article states:

* Relatively little is known about bladder and bowel dysfunction (BBD) among adults with autism spectrum disorder (ASD). The authors compared urinary incontinence, nocturnal enuresis, and bowel disturbances among 22 adults and 13 teenagers with ASD with a sample of typically developing (TD) controls. Urinary incontinence was present in 85% of children and 82% of adults with ASD versus just 5.7% of TD controls. Nocturnal enuresis, fecal incontinence, and constipation were also common, impacting 59%, 36%, and 68%, respectively, of adults with ASD (vs 0%, 0%, and 9%, respectively, of TD controls), and were similar to rates observed in teens with ASD.

* Intellectual disability and mood disorders were highly prevalent among those with BBD. It is not clear to what extent treatment of concomitant mood disorders results in a beneficial impact on BBD in this complex patient population.

Here are some more sources I found. It does talk about children, I think it can be helpful for adults/teens too.

I hope these sources can help. Many neurodivergent individuals have GI issues (me included, constapation suuucks).

Maybe my followers can give some more information and help with this? The only time I’ve experienced incontinece is after my seizures. I sometimes wet my bed…

Anyway, I hope this helps answer your question. I’m sure you not alone here, so I’m calling on my lovely followers to give advice and insight too.

I hope this helps answer your question. Thank you for the inbox. I hope you have a wonderful day/night. ♥️

[heartfucksmouth]

got evaluated for diastasis and pelvic floor dysfunction, my an muscles are separated like a diamond shape, the widest being just above my belly button at 3 inches apart. hopefully with some more visits I won't look like I'm still 4 months pregnant and I'll regain better core strength.

also my hip surgery is scheduled for June 13th... life is gonna continue to be crazy and sometimes I feel like I got dropped into an alternate timeline.. but I love my boys and my zazu for sticking it out with me.

[turtletaubwrites]

Take What He Needs ~ Part 2

Pairing: Sanji x Fem!Reader

Summary: Reader is an investigative journalist that joined the crew after the fight at Arlong Park. You’ve been a member of the crew for a little while, and now you've been seeing a certain cook for the past week. You thought your crush on him had been distracting before, but tonight you're having trouble focusing on your writing. Going to Sanji's room to work was probably not the best choice.

This is part 2 of the second installment of What You Need. You can find part 1 Here or on the Masterlist below.

Word Count: 2121

What You Need Masterlist

Ao3 Link ~ Total Word Count: 4,398

Ratings/Warnings: Explicit Sexual Content, Fem!Reader, Reader Insert, 18+, MDNI, Self-Indulgent, Smut, Blow Jobs, Cunnilingus, Throat Fucking, Masturbation, Fluff and Smut, Sex Toys, Vibrators, Vaginal Fingering, Multiple Orgasms, Established Relationship, Vaginismus, Pelvic Floor Dysfunction, Swearing, Pet Names, Sanji being the most attentive lover in the world

A/N: Reader has a condition that makes intimacy difficult and sometimes painful, but Sanji is ready to prove how much he values your pleasure.

Sanji’s breath caught, and his fingers twitched on your skin.

“Did I hurt you?”

You almost laughed, then tried to decide how to explain it to this man. This man who’s so obsessed with never hurting you that he sometimes misses out on enjoying himself with you.

You pulled his hands from your face as you spread your thighs. Sanji looked confused, but then you shoved his hands onto the wooden floor under your nightgown. Watching his eyes roll back as he groaned, all because his hands slipped on the floor from how he’d made you feel, that was a sight you’d be holding onto.

You released his wrists, and your breath got heavy as he continued to slide and play with your slick on the floor.

He pulled one of his hands up between you. He spread his fingers, and the strings of pleasure dripping between made you both react. 

Sanji shoved his fingers into his mouth, sucking you off of them like it was food he couldn’t waste. 

You felt like you could die right there, until his voice, raspy with knowing, made your body slump.

“How can I repay my princess for such a bounty? Please, tell me what you need.”

You knew he was asking if your body would be okay with more today. You weren’t sure, but you were fucking desperate to try. 

“I need you to finger me, Sanji. Please fucking touch me, I nee-“

He’d cut you off again, this time by picking you up off the floor, and laying you against the pillows on his bed. 

“You’re mine, aren’t you?”

You moaned ‘yes’ for him, and whined for his touch as he rummaged in his desk.

He pulled out a purple toy, not very thick, but with an interesting looking curve.

“What’s that,” you asked, just wanting to hear how he’d describe it. 

“This is something I hope you’ll enjoy, if you’re open to trying it.”

His smile made you squirm. 

“But I love your fingers so much.”

He moved closer, sitting on the bed by your feet, smoothing one hand lightly along your calf.

“Mm, they love you too, beautiful. How about you just let me know if you’d like to test it out.”

You pretended to think it over. 

“Well, I suppose we could give it a try.”

You grinned as you pulled yourself out of your pajamas, and then you moaned at Sanji’s reaction when he saw your core, still dripping wet. 

He reached his hand toward it, looking at your face until you nodded with a smile.

He lightly touched his fingers to you, pulling away thick strings of your slick.

“All of this for me? All of this because I fucked your throat like that?”

His quiet, disbelieving words made you arch your back and cry out.

“Yes, Sanji, all for you.”

You loved watching him close his eyes and shiver for you. 

He looked down at you with what looked like awe in his eyes, and it made you squirm. He smirked, and motioned the toy toward you, pointing at your face.

“Apologies, I shouldn’t leave my perfect girl waiting.”

You giggled, and then gasped as he set himself up, propped between your legs. With his face so close to your center, he seemed to have gotten distracted. His mouth hung open, his tongue loose and you arched your back at the look in his eyes. He looked like he was going to take a bite, then devour you whole. 

“May I taste you, sweetheart?”

You could hardly let out our breath, but you whispered your need.

“Please.”

Sanji wrapped his hands around your hips as he pulled himself closer. You were aching for him.

How does he make me crave him every second of the day?

His playful eyes darkened as he stared into yours, teasing your inner thighs with his lips, closer and closer.

Right, that’s how. 

You whined for him as Sanji’s tongue started lapping up the wetness on your thighs. You squirmed, twisting yourself to be closer to that tongue, with its piercing teasing you with what you knew it could do.

He chuckled again as you whined his name. 

“You still want me this much, after all we did in the storeroom today?”

“Fuck Sanji, yes, I need you.”

You heard a satisfied growl before you felt it rumble against you when he dove into your folds. You started to scream, then clamped your mouth shut.

Nami’s joke about the ballgag doesn’t seem like a bad idea. 

You almost laughed at your thought, but you were too busy trying not to erupt. Sanji’s hungry eyes ate up your reactions, while his skilled tongue and that fucking ring played with your clit. 

His movements were so controlled, as if he’d been training his tongue just for this, like he’d trained his hands just for cooking, and his legs just for fighting. 

You had to grab one of his pillows to chew on. 

He alternated sensations with the ring, then the tip of his tongue. Circles, back and forth, then slow kisses and gentle sucks that had you shaking. You moaned his name through the pillow and twitched as his pleased hum vibrated through you.

Then his tongue on your clit was replaced, the toy vibrating right where you needed it to instead. 

You thrashed on his bed, feeling like a fucking shark as you hung onto the pillow with your teeth. 

Your muffled screams and pants took you over and you heard Sanji purring over you while you came.

You had barely come down, still spasming when you felt him breathe a request against your skin.

“May I keep trying, my sweet?”

You dropped the pillow out of your mouth with an exhausted laugh.

“What do you mean,” you gasped out.

Sanji traced the toy along the inside of your thigh.

“I would like to see if I can coax more pleasure from you tonight. But please let me know if-“

“Okay,” you breathed, reaching for the pillow, but waiting for him to start.

He smiled and turned the toy over a few times for you to look at. 

“Please let me know when I’ve found the right spot for you, darling. Stop me if you need to.”

You nodded, so grateful to be with someone who listens to your body’s needs. 

Sanji gave you a soft smile that turned dark as he moved back to your core. You gasped as he gave your clit a few long, soft strokes with his tongue, making you twitch lightly from the orgasm you’d just had. 

He traded his tongue for the toy, barely touching, but the vibration made you cry out, reaching for the pillow.

Sanji laughed softly and pulled away, making you whine. Gently, he took the pillow from you, and brought one of his ties. It was folded a few times and he traced your cheek with the smooth fabric until you opened your mouth for him again.

You saw when Sanji remembered how you’d opened your mouth for him earlier, and the satisfaction you felt from his reaction made your insides twist. You took his tie into your mouth, promising him with your eyes that it wouldn’t be the last time he could shove something of his in there.

Sanji groaned, and you almost cried from the anticipation you felt, and the scent of Sanji on the tie in your mouth. 

He found his place again, after leaving gentle strokes and touches along your body on his way down. You were shaking for him, feeling even more wetness from his skilled touch.

Sanji sank his tongue into you, and you arched your back, moaning into his tie. He teased you, readying you. Then you gasped through the fabric as he gently slipped one finger inside. You smiled at the coolness of the lube he’d kept by the bed, how he’d remembered you told him you’d need it, even when you were dripping for him.

Sanji was such a fast learner, and his finger already found the spot you needed. He waited for your desperate nod, then added another finger, watching your every reaction. 

How is he so fucking good at this?

“I’m going to switch now, beautiful. Let me know how to please my goddess.”

You moaned for him, then felt the cool, smooth feel of the toy teasing your entrance. It didn’t feel like much yet, and you hadn’t had much luck with toys in the past. But you wanted to feel whatever Sanji wanted to give you. 

You kept your breathing slow as he pressed the toy in, trying not to tense. He watched your face, and you tried not to let yourself pretend with him like you had with everyone else. 

Sanji held the toy inside you so gently, trying to guide it to where you needed it.

You’d let Sanji explore your body with his fingers, showing him which angles were neutral, which were painful, and which would make you come for him. 

He’d studied your pussy like it was his life’s dream to master it. 

You looked into his eyes while he explored now, while he took so much fucking care not to hurt you, or even make you uncomfortable. You bit down on the tie and tried not to cry from happiness so he wouldn’t think he was hurting you.

He set the toy inside you, then gave you a slow nod as he pressed it up, slowly building pressure. It still didn’t feel like much, but you knew he’d found the right angle, so you nodded back. 

With a crooked smile, Sanji turned the toy on and built the pressure more and more, knowing just how to move it for you. 

The vibration was so intense for you there, and Sanji’s perfect movements against your g spot had you thrashing again, drooling through his tie. 

You heard his satisfied hum as he used his free hand to press down on your hip, holding you in place so he could do his work. 

Screams muffled through your clenched teeth as Sanji held that pressure and vibration, torturing you with pleasure, while his thumb started smoothing up and down over your sensitive clit, still fucking drenched.

He had to press down on your hip hard to keep you still for him while he controlled you. While he watched you writhe for him with knowing eyes. Your eyes rolled back in your head when you saw him lick his lips while he admired his own handiwork. 

The orgasm crashed through you, and you could feel your pussy milking that toy so hard while it kept vibrating, kept torturing. Sanji’s thumb had started circling around your clit, and you could feel it pulsing on him, your whole cunt fucking throbbing for him.

You didn't know what to do with your hands. You scrambled at his sheets, clenched your fingernails into your thighs. You reached for your breasts, squeezing and twitching as your fingers pinched at your sensitive nipples. Sanji moaned as he watched you, and it made your orgasm keep fucking coming, until you’d soaked Sanji’s hands. You couldn’t fucking think. You were just buzzing, twitching nerves. 

He pulled the toy out so gently, humming while he kissed up your body. He trailed his soaked fingers along your skin, making you shiver and gasp.

He pulled a sheet over you, letting you twitch in his arms as you came down.

He kissed the top of your head, and chuckled to himself.

You couldn’t form words yet, but you moaned in question at him. He chuckled again before responding.

“I’m sorry, Y/N. I think I may have distracted you from your work.”

You groaned then, lightly hitting him with your hand, although you could barely move. 

“How about you stay here with me tonight, and I’ll wake you up early with breakfast so you can spend the morning writing?”

The cheesy smile taking over your face made you blush, and you curled your face into his chest, instantly becoming more flustered. I just want to lick him so bad!

Sanji kept touching you with soft caresses, smoothing your hair behind your ear as he left a gentle kiss on your forehead. 

You sighed, shivers running down your skin. 

“You have to promise to let me focus on work.”

He looked into your face with a subtle wink that made you want to gnaw on him. 

“But of course, princess. Whatever my lady commands.”

You shook your head, but melted into his arms. 

“Make sure there’s waffles.”

He laughed into your hair, then pulled you in closer. 

Maybe sleeping in the same room isn’t such a bad idea after all.

Thank you for reading! 💜

TurtleTaub Fanfic Masterlist

Buy me a coffee ☕🙏🏼

[yandere-daydreams]

mildly having a laugh at the candle fucking asks bc like. it's apparently a Thing if you have pelvic floor dysfunction there are certain exercises you can do that involve one of those long tapered candles and slapping a condom over it? (source: half remembered convos post my mother having a hysterectomy then Issues and being like "yeah if you need a candle don't use the one in this dresser drawer bc this was doctors advice" and me going ".......okay so it's cool that they do physical therapies for that but how the FUCK did they figure that one out-")

so you can get one Inside Of You but past that point idk anything else and also if it would even feel like Good

i'd say 'fucking' implies a little more than just straight-up brief and unpleasant penetration so, uh, i'm going to need you to ask your mom some questions, anon. it's okay tell her it's for a non/con porn blog on tumblr.

[horrorsequel]

why is there no actual straight forward way to find out which doctors in ur area are not evil. qhy is there not a Rate My Professor but for doctors. why do places like zocdoc only have 1 or 2 reviews each for doctors in my area. why do all the Fat Friendly Doctor Directories return no results in my state. why is my insurance not letting me see the fucking amazing primary care physician i got literally just months ago who was very kind and sensitive and didnt mention my weight and works in an lgbt friendly center. why am i about to blow myself up with my mind. im so fucking scared of trying to find a gyno cos my first and thus far only fyno visit i had an incredibly horrible woman who did not care abt my trauma or pelvic floor dysfunction and immediately told me to lose weight and literally made a disgusted face when she heard i was intersex. how do ppl expect me to trust anyone how do you expect me to do anything

[himejoshiba]

jusg found out every symptom i experienceever is because of depression or anxiety. fuckers . leg pain and headaches and nausea and tearyness and shitty pelvic floor and shaking and blinking. i want to compress every dysfunctional part of me into a tiiiiny little area like my foot or something and then just chop it all off and be done. i would rather look after that woumd flr a while and then be done w it than keep being in vague general pain all day every day. ooooooouuugghb

[pheadrus]

Please share your trick 🙏

It’s a very specific stress related illness anon so this probably won’t be much help but I guess it fits a framework I’ve found coming up a lot with anxiety so maybe as a general rule it’s useful?

basically I hold like all my stress in my pelvic floor and I couldn’t work out how to stop but I realised my fear of the symptom of its dysfunction (which was needing the loo all the time, absolute hell) was what was stopping me from relaxing and so was stopping me from being free of that very symptom. I had to basically stop freaking out and let the “bad thing” happen in order to begin to develop a healthy relationship with it

And I’ve found in general with anxiety I need to forgive myself for not being able to forgive myself if that makes sense? I was so angry with myself for not being able to escape this dysfunction but if I forgave myself and let my body feel my pelvic floor even when it wouldn’t be nice, that was the first step to learning not to stress about it. I was trapped in the cycle of being anxious and trying to ignore that i was anxious but that just made me more anxious, so my general advice would be to let yourself feel and acknowledge the anxiety you do have bc denying its existence just gives you one extra thing to stress about