Texten finns i original på bloggen Trans* Power Fist.
Kika gärna in där!
I can screw it – A neo-vagina monologue
I have an enjoyable little vagina… Measured by a quick glance, it’s rather lovely. It fulfills its basic functions, like:
- I can pee with it like every mother’s daughter, namely sometimes it managed to get to the my inner thighs, and I have a fine training with riding stance in the rest rooms.
- Sexual functions, live through and give joy, if there was someone for this.
- Some functions under development, such as “the joys” of the monthly cycle, and childbirth. They may become available in a later version.
In short, I have a rather enjoyable vagina… but I can screw it.
In every sense, transferred, literal or vulgar one, as you like.
In technically sense I not only can screw it, but I must. Medical instruction, you know. As my vagina hasn’t always looked like the same like now. It’s the result of surgical rearrangement of my interleg space. Therefore it needs regular aftercare. You can say it’s physiotherapy, and I even have medical aid for this. It’s hard like stone, stands tall like a stave and have the color of a carrot. You can say that I have to screw myself with a carrot… If I had to do it regularly, I would enjoy it. I didn’t undertake the pain and the long recovery just to resemble my ciswomen companions after a fashion, then to live like a nun and that was all, folks! No, my little vagina is starving for petting. Because it can really enjoy the pleasures! If there wasn’t anything else, the utilization of the obligatory activity would remain. Do it yourself, my lady, if you had no servants…
Here’s the other sense, the transferred one. A hole is punctured into me, thats OK, and it functions rather well, and doesn’t look bad. Moreover the trimmings around it looks much better than a bowl of pigwash. You know, those trimmings are called “human” by most. The more accepting or the ones who don’t know about my past could call it even “woman”. There hasn’t been anyone who could pet my little vagina regularly, with dignity and under the sign of mutual pleasure and love, naturally. Might the problem be the “with dignity” phrase? But it has no sense by other way. My vagina doesn’t want to lie, blot the facts. It’s longing for to be desired, petted and hungered for the joys it can offer, with the informed knowledge of its past. There are some liquids which are loosed during intimacy to be blotted…
Rarely, someone can offer company for my vagina yet, for a shorter or longer period – a shorter, to be honest – and accepts all the joy which is hidden in my surgically framed little cave. Even it’s fulfilled only for a short time, and there’s much waiting for the next opportunity. But the much of physiotherapy has results, as my vagina trained itself to a corner of joys in good shape. All of its little muscle can contract or relax subconsciously or under my will. So I can get and give all the joy I was only longing for long years. Because there isn’t any kind of intim joy I experienced in my previous body states which could be compared with this. And the same is true for the joy I can give the lucky human, who can treat and love my vagina as it is, with the full knowledge of its past. My vagina feels and sees the joy of the other via me in these ephemeral moments and becomes happy and content. Then not only I can screw it but someone else as well!
Ps.: Happy 2nd birthday, my sweet little vagina!
21st September, 2014