*“Just one more month and I’m free,” I thought to myself.*
It was a few years ago and I was counting down the days until I could leave my extremely toxic workplace. I was stressed and not bothering to go above and beyond during my notice period, I was left with a lot of free time after official working hours.
Which led me to play with myself. A lot.
I masturbated almost daily, viewing sexual relief as a way to reduce stress relating to job hunting and the uncertainty of my future. These sessions took place in the dead of night, my legs spread wide apart as I furiously rubbed myself to achieve sexual pleasure.
I played with myself for seemingly hours, only pausing to adjust my legs before continuing. I relished in reading erotica, exposing myself to the vast selection of kinks and fetishes out there. My poor clit begged for relief every night and I strived to make myself orgasm every time.
Until a few weeks later, I felt a soreness in my right hand. It ached whenever I had to write and it hurt especially when I tried pleasuring myself. Puzzled, I went to see a doctor.