The Mind's Punishment

Let the punishment be proportionate to the offense.

Marcus Tulius Cicero

During July, I was out sick for a good 2 weeks. Late in the week before, I had visited a doctor for a girl problem I was having. I received a prescription for a creme to apply. Dutifully, I used it as directed, applying it to the affected areas.

This creme was supposed to cause some irritation. But after one application on the Sunday night my body was flaring up. It wasn't intolerable, so I put on the second application as I was supposed to on Tuesday. In the middle of that night I had to get up to shower off the creme; my genitals were on fire in a bad way.

I didn't go to work the next day. I could barely move without my cunt feeling as if it was being ripped off. It burned constantly and I couldn't close my legs. I was too afraid to look or feel. I decided I had to go back to see the doctor the next day. There isn't much sleep to be had that night, as I have to lay on my back with my legs spread to keep from being in too much pain. I simply doze in and out of wakefulness for hours.

A friend took the day off to care for me on Thursday, but the clinic couldn't see me until the following morning.

Nurse: "You do undertand this cream is supposed to cause some irritation?"
Me: "This is more than irritation. My genitals are basically swollen shut and even walking is painful."
Nurse: "I'm afraid there isn't an appointment until tomorrow morning at the north clinic. All you can really do is take sea salt baths and keep it clean and dry. There will probably be little the doctor can even do beyond that."

I cry from the feeling of helplessness and the pain. I can't imagine going another day in this agony before I get any relief, no less imagining it to continue indefinitely. But my friend helps me into the bath and it instantly feels slightly better. I spend ten minutes with the hot water and salt soothing my most private, sensitive parts from the blisters and swelling that has become my groin. It is painful to stand up, to step out of the bath. Even more painful to dry the area. There is another almost sleepless night and over the next week there are going to be many loads of towels washed.

The doctor declares I have Herpes Simplex that Friday morning. I am gobsmacked. Not only is it difficult to contract using condoms (which I always use) the incubation period does not fit my recent sexual history. But I take the anti-virals she gives me, barely manage to handle the pain caused by the swab to do a culture, and am mercifully given a prescription for Tramadol to help with the pain and a numbing cream to allow urination without thinking I'll faint from the burning pain it causes.

I go home, inform my workplace I'll be out for some time. I lie in bed on the verge of tears. How can this be happening? I'm so careful when I play. Why is it so bad? The doctor said this is one of the worst cases of initial herpes episodes she has seen. Why me? Why?

I feel as if this is punishment for enjoying sex, for enjoying my sexuality. Even for weeks before this happened, I was unwilling to play for various reasons, including the initial girl problem making the desire go away. My body is betraying me. What was once the central point of intense pleasure is now the worst pain I have ever felt in my life. I don't ever want to think about sex again. It's wrong, it only causes pain. Whatever higher power there is is telling me how I live is wrong, I should not enjoy it so much. Punishment. Punishment for being myself.

I can't even bring myself to read the publication the doctor gave me on Herpes. I simply don't believe it. There are too many inconsistencies between its typical infection and what is happening to me. I spend the week mostly in bed, not daring to move much. The numbing cream doesn't help totally but the Tramadol is effective in not only dulling the pain but allowing me to actually sleep. The week passes in a haze of pain, salt baths, towel washes and pills. During my baths I check on the progress very, very carefully but beyond that there is no touching my body. I feel as the blisters shrink in size, the swelling going down, and, oh look! My vaginal opening is accessible again. I have another appointment the following Friday.

Friday morning and the test results haven't come in yet. The lab is backed up. But the doctor is positive it is herpes, even if the results come back negative. But then she says she is willing to be wrong about her diagnosis when I talk to her about the inconsistencies. I don't have anymore time to be off of work, but by the Monday I should be ok enough to walk regularly. I'll be seeing a different doctor the next Friday.

The first few days at work are difficult. I try to go full speed but am reminded by sharp pains in my groin to slow down, you're not completely healed yet. At least I can urinate without pain now. I simply tell co-workers I'm just having "girl problems" and am left alone after that.

I'm able to shower again and am taking only one bath a day (as opposed to 3-5). Thankfully, my whole genital area is almost "back to normal". The final Friday appointment at the clinic comes. The test results are negative. This doctor thinks it was an extreme reaction to the cream; it's rare but happens. Which is what the few friends I've shared with and I have thought all along. But the doctor makes sure to warn me that I may still have Herpes; there are false negatives at times. We'll just have to wait to see if I have another episode, which would thankfully be less severe if it comes at all. That's fine with me, I doubt I'll be having sex anytime soon.

It's another two weeks before I even think about sex or get horny. And it's only with Tanto's help that I'm able to begin playing with myself at all again. It's only with his insistence that this was only a reaction to action, it was a natural consequence of life. It was not some kind of punishment. Because who I am, sexuality included, is a wonderful, amazing, passionate young woman who doesn't actually deserve such pain.

Right now, I seem to be back to myself about two months after the beginning of this saga. Sex is on my mind almost daily, I'm masturbating again (with the help of my Lelo Lily, woot!). Tomorrow night is a fetish night at Sparty's and I'll at least be doing play piercings. It seems that there are some permanent or semi-permanent changes to my anatomy though. Only time will tell. But I hope to never experience something like that ever, ever again.