Nearly two years ago I was sexually assaulted at a play party. The fuckhead who did it decided to use a speculum as a sex toy without my permission. This would have been okay if he had taken it out when I told him to, when I told him it was hurting me. But he shook his head no and shifted it again. I still have a tender spot inside my vagina that sometimes gets hit during fooling around. It causes memories to flood back, and it angers me like no tomorrow because who knows how long I’ll walk around with that sore spot. If it hasn’t left me by now I have no reason to expect it ever will. For the first couple of days after the assault I felt that spot keenly every moment.
Tons of therapy, anti-depressant, sleep medication later I’m getting back in the saddle. But I’m really not the same I once was. I can never be. I don’t trust men easily. I used to fuck with abandon but now when a guy gets sexual with me (even in an email) I feel uneasy alongside my arousal. Will he hurt me? Will I end up in the same situation again? I don’t ever want to go through that again. Twice is more than enough for one lifetime. (I was raped several years before the assault.)
Of course, if I don’t take risks then there will be no pleasure. Other than Davey, my boyfriend, I haven’t been with another man except for this trans friend I have. And it kinda makes sense that the only other man I’d have had was on the precipice of transitioning to female. I keep thinking I want to meet a woman to date but men keep finding their way to my inbox. And part of me wants them still. Part of me is terrified. So I go slowly, slowly, scared every step. The only man who doesn’t freak me out is Davey. Gradually my libido has returned, though still not as strong as before. I squirt again which is nice, although not all the time. I’m just happy I can orgasm with ease again – albeit not as easily as I once did.
I resent the fact that I’ve been forever changed by this one act. I resent the fact that the man who did it to me won’t suffer like I have. I have violent fantasies of shoving a speculum up his unlubed asshole. It’s the only justice that would be fitting, truly.
The assault doesn’t haunt me daily like it did the first year. But it still haunts me.
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