a hundred Kegels a day," Tina advised. "A woman should
have a pussy like a steel trap."
steel trap!" Marnie giggled, struck by the imagery of a tiny,
stainless-steel vagina that clacked open and shut. Her exclamation
shrilled into a lull in the cafe buzz, and her face grew warm
from the heat of several stares. Lowering her voice, she added,
"I don’t believe it’s possible. I’ve tried
Kegels before, too, and they just make me feel weird."
two made an attractive pair–one dark and feline, the other
petite, with chicken-fluff hair and large brown puppy-dog eyes.
The dark and feline one was drumming red nails on the tabletop.
do you mean, weird?"
it just starts feeling funny."
drew her torso erect, towering over her smaller, fairer friend.
Her eyes smoldered, dusky-deep, self-righteous. Marnie thought
Tina must look a little like that while she was working her other
job as a dominatrix. Tina had that sex-guru aura, and so Marnie
had asked her advice. "Your pubococcygeus muscle is weak.
Kegels are your answer—daily, vigilant attention to strengthening
your pubic floor!"
resisted the idea of any sort of daily exercise, but Tina did
have a point, she thought. She’d do just about anything
to rev up her sex life—she could just tell Kurt was going
to dump her if things didn’t improve.
do you expect me to do this shoving my dick into a cave!"
he’d shouted ungraciously, last time they’d had sex
and he’d gone limp after fifteen minutes. She’d not
appreciated that comment, nor his oblique and drunken remarks
about how much he preferred girls with "short tunnels,"
or why couldn’t he fuck her in the ass just this once?
she loved him. He was her soulmate, after all. A Tarot card reader
at a psychic faire had told her that she’d soon meet the
man who’d be with her forever, and within a week she’d
found Kurt on the dance floor of Club O. Instant chemistry: they’d
gone home together that night. Even after the initial oxytocin
rush had died down, they’d discovered all sorts of things
they had in common–they shared a passion for health food,
for nature shows and movies about underdogs, for lazy post-coital
discussions about philosophy, free will versus fate. Both preferred
fate. It seemed like fate when a month later, Kurt moved in to
Marnie’s little apartment in the middle of town.
sex had been amazing from the start. They’d only begun to
have problems, in bed and out, in the last few weeks–Kurt
had lost his job doing temp work and started getting moody and
drinking more. He’d just left to visit his family in Indianapolis,
and Marnie was determined to improve herself while he was gone,
so he’d snap right out of those moods when he saw her again.
had problems too, she thought. She pictured his devil-sexy angel
face when he wasn’t in one of his moods, and her heart warmed;
she listened attentively as Tina expounded upon the benefits of
doing Kegels. Not only would she get tighter, but she’d
have more intense orgasms. Maybe even multiple ones. Increased
sex drive. Added pleasure and excitement for both lovers. Spiritual
evolution. On top of it all, Kegels also helped prevent incontinence!
was sold. She resolved to begin her Kegels right away. She felt
too self-conscious to do so at the flower shop where she worked,
but once she reached the privacy of her apartment she sprawled
out onto her couch, her diminuitive body nearly disappearing among
its soft purple cushions, and, very gently–almost as if
she was afraid of breaking something–she squeezed her pubic
floor muscles together and upwards, in the most tentative of Kegels.
A hundred was too many that first day. Her muscles felt cramped,
and that "funny feeling"–almost like she needed
to pee, but not quite–was so intense she almost gave up.
But she pictured Kurt, gave a determined sigh, and finished.
next day it was easier, and the next even more so. She found she
could do more and more, and soon it no longer felt funny—it
felt good. She squeezed in the shower, while she ate breakfast,
while she sat in the subway. She squeezed while she walked, while
she worked, while she waxed the car! She got in her hundred a
day and then did a hundred more. She made up a song to sing to
herself while she did her Kegels, her version of "Old MacDonald":
MacDonald had a farm
that farm he had a pussy
a Kegel here
a Kegel there
MacDonald had a farm
did Kegels all the way driving to the airport to pick Kurt up.
It had been two weeks since they’d last had sex, and boy
was he in for a surprise!
you grinning like that for?" he asked her in the car, a frown
marring the tanned smoothness of his face .
see," she grinned, pulling off the freeway exit and heading
towards her apartment.
she continued grinning as they entered the living room and initiated
a welcome-home fuck on the soft purple couch, a fuck that continued
through the night and on till morning. Kurt’s appreciation
for the newly viselike grip of her pussy exceeded her wildest
was all he said, in between rounds, but that was enough.
* * *
began a glorious couple of weeks of sex as enthusiastic as when
they’d first met five months ago. Nights and mornings, Marnie
was in sex heaven. During the day, she bought Tina lunch on their
breaks from arranging flowers and dealing with customers, and
she was regaled with tales of orgies and fetish parties that had
her blushing bashful red and then going envious green in turns.
But when Tina smiled a little Mona Lisa smile and queried her
about possible participation, Marnie crossed slender legs, did
a Kegel, and announced, "I’m a serial monogamist."
was determined to be a good one, though, and so she continued
her daily Kegels. She exulted in the increasing control she had
with her pubic floor muscles. Determined to hone this control
yet further, she began to stick objects into her vagina—the
skinny end of a hairbrush, a carrot, or a highlighter pen—seeing
how easily she could hold it. Here a Kegel, there a Kegel. Everywhere
a uungh! Kegel.
night, she and Kurt were eating a huge oyster dinner that Marnie
had picked up from the seafood diner next to the flower shop.
She hadn’t thought about aphrodisiacs when she’d ordered
the oysters, but as she pierced the first gleaming brownish-purple
glob from its shell and slid the meat onto her tongue, she noticed
that its texture was like a little pussy, wet and soft and aroused.
Kurt’s senses also seemed to be titillated, teeth scraping
into an oyster, droplets of juice running over his lower lip.
He licked his lips and stared at Marnie, brown eyes smoky with
in her bedroom, headboard banging against the wall, his cock sawing
back and forth in her tight pussy, Marnie gazed up through her
lashes at that almost-pained expression on his face and felt the
warmth rising from her genitals to her heart.
she started squeezing. It wasn’t entirely voluntary; she
spasmed frequently when she was very aroused, and it was just
a small step from a spasm to a nice, extended squeeze. Their metronomic
fuck became a waltz in ¾ time, her squeezing a long note
while he pumped three short, a pump pump squeeeeeeeeze pump
pump squeeeeeeeeze on the Blue Danube of their Sealy Posturpedic.
As Kurt neared climax they changed to a pump pump pump squeeze
and then broke into some crazy improv rhythm, with assonance to
came in an explosion, with a loud groan. His penis slid out of
Marnie’s vagina, spent, and he dragged himself out from
between her legs to grab a Kleenex for a quick cleanup job. Marnie
reached across Kurt on the bed and snapped on the light, and she
blinked as she saw Kurt holding his penis, staring down at it
as if it were a dead bird.
dick! What’s going on with my dick?" he moaned.
wrong with it?" she asked, her voice husky, still honeyed
didn’t answer at first, just sat cross-legged and hunched
over, fiddling with his foreskin. His penis looked fine to Marnie,
its usual limp post-sex self. "See this constricted ring?"
Marnie sat up on an elbow. Sure enough, there was a part underneath
the penis head that seemed a little narrower than it should be.
It was somewhat hourglass-shaped. It looked funny, this bulbous,
rubbery head hanging from a little stalk, and she burst out laughing.
set off a new round of moans. His face was scrunched up with worry,
prunelike. "Oh god, what’s happening to my dick? It’s
your pussy. It’s too tight. Don’t squeeze it anymore,
as a reflex, Marnie did a Kegel, clenching the muscle as if to
protect her precious new pussy-strength. "What do you mean,
it’s too tight?" Her voice sounded unnaturally high
to her as she fought to keep her composure. Her mind felt frozen,
on, Marn! Just what I said. You’re so fucking tight and
hard when you squeeze, it’s like fucking a baby’s
asshole. ‘Cept the baby’s ass is made out of brick
or something. There’s only so much I can take of that shit.
So fucking cut it out."
felt cold. She lay awake for hours after that, her mind circling
in angst. After all her efforts! All her Kegels! A lone tear trickled
down one cheek. She didn’t even notice that her muscles
were still locked in a Kegel, and they remained so even as she
finally slipped off into dreamless sleep.
* * *
that, things went downhill. Marnie suspected, dreaded that that
shellfish dinner had been the beginning of the end. At first she
tried to laugh it off. But then Kurt started not wanting to have
sex again. The few times he did, he’d run afterwards to
the bathroom moaning, "What’s happening to my dick?"
afterwards would kill the post-sex afterglow. She started feeling
rejected and as desperate for change as before she’d started
started feeling depressed. She went to her naturopathic doctor
(she was suspicious of regular doctors), and she was informed
that her pubic floor muscles were hypertoned, and how on earth
had she gotten them that way? But on the naturopath’s suggestion,
she started taking St. John’s Wort, as well as flower essences
intended to balance out her upper and lower chakras. She wondered
once if perhaps the Tarot reader had been wrong and Kurt wasn’t
The One. But she wanted him.
asked Tina about the strange dynamics of her sex life, wondering
whether what was happening with Kurt’s penis had anything
to do with her daily Kegels.
not," Tina said as she pulled herself erect in the café
chair, full lips pursing in affront. She folded long arms and
lifted a pointed chin, as if speaking as the representative for
the expertise of all sex workers. "Kegels just give you more
muscle control. They don’t make your vagina any tighter—you
can just have it be tighter, at will. And don’t forget about
how they help prevent incontinence."
do you think is giving him that constricted ring around his dick,
lifted her shoulders once, releasing them in an elegant shrug.
"Is he a briefs or boxers kind of guy?"
Marnie moaned, feeling no closer to an answer at all.
tell him to freeball it for a week or so, to give it some fresh
air or something. But keep doing your Kegels—I’m telling
you, they’re the key to better communication with your own
body. And—you might start incorporating your breath with
your Kegels—pull the energy up from your sacrum to your
cranium, and you’ll really start being connected to your
did continue with her Kegels, more now because they alleviated
her sexual frustration, which skyrocketed as Kurt’s libido
plummeted. She started fucking herself with the skinny end of
the hairbrush, the carrot, the highlighter etc. And incorporating
the breath too. This creative activity was enough to deal, short-term,
with her raving horniness.
they’d gone without having sex for three weeks straight,
Marnie had just about had it. She’d done everything she
could to tempt Kurt. She’d started working out daily, no
small feat for Marnie, whose relatively healthy diet and small-boned
frame had been enough to offset a tendency toward laziness. She’d
started dressing sexier, tossing her Thai wrap pants and peasant
blouses, her flare-leg yoga pants and fleece pullovers, deep into
the closet; she instead hauled out her tight jeans and miniskirts,
her tit-tops, and her silk lingerie for the bedroom. She’d
gotten shellfish take-out for dinner for them whenever she could.
She’d shyly suggested to Kurt that maybe he could skip wearing
his underwear for a while. He’d just curled his lip into
a disdainful sneer and told her she was blocking the TV screen.
night, Kurt continued to repulse Marnie’s timid attempts
to caress him. He’d shove her hand away and snap, "I
can’t fall asleep when you’re groping my balls!"
Finally she decided to bring in the heavy artillery. She went
to the nearest natural foods store, a small, family-owned place
with green and white decor and a bell that jangled to the tune
of "Home on the Range" whenever a customer entered or
exited. Weaving through long, neat rows of products packed onto
pale wooden shelves, she found the section with the herbal sexual
stimulants, the all-natural lubricants, and the pagan aphrodisiacs.
She had always scoffed at these products, but now she perused
them with a deeper, more sympathetic understanding.
couldn’t decide on any particular product, and she really
didn’t feel like asking the prowling shop assistant, whose
eyes looked even beadier than usual when he noticed what product
area she was soliciting. So Marnie decided just to buy them all.
She grabbed a couple bottles of pills, some herbal extracts, two
homeopathic remedies, and some weird Chinese cream to rub on her
nipples and genitals that was guaranteed to drive him wild. She
also went for the pink aromatherapy candles, the romance incense,
and the "romance pouch"—a collection of rocks
and herbs that was supposed to draw love to her. Out of all this
stuff, something was bound to work!
piled all the things from her basket onto the counter in front
of the shop assistant, who had stopped prowling but whose eyes
were still beady and staring.
in the bedroom?" he asked, his voice hushed and a little
nasal. His eyes darted from side to side underneath a low, bushy
monobrow, never quite meeting Marnie’s gaze.
looked around, wondering why the shop assistant was being so secretive.
"Oh, you know. It’s probably nothing. I’m just
got something extra special for that," the man said, again
in that hushed voice. He reached under the counter and pulled
out a small, unmarked blue bottle. "It’s made out of
special mushrooms gathered in the rainforests of South America,
and it’s been blessed by shamans."
looked at the bottle. Obviously, judging from the clerk’s
attitude and the way the bottle looked, it wasn’t legal.
"It’s all natural, isn’t it?"
course. 100% organic."
Marnie thought. She was a sucker for organic. Why not try it,
then? It couldn’t hurt. "I’ll take it,"
Marnie said in a voice as hushed and secretive as the clerk’s.
* * *
set her plan into action the following night. She went all out
in her preparations: rose and patchouli-scented incense wafted
into the air, pink candles sent a romantic glow across the bedroom,
the silk aphrodisiac pouch lay tucked securely inside her pillow.
She ordered in shellfish again. Then she liberally laced the red
wine with all the pills and powders and elixirs purchased yesterday.
The mushrooms she boiled, pouring the cooled tea from them into
the wine, and mixing the solid bits into the shellfish. She’d
decided to partake liberally of everything herself, thinking it
was only fair that both of them be caught up in the wave of lust
that was sure to transpire. If her hands hadn’t been so
occupied mixing and pouring, arranging and rearranging, she’d
have been rubbing them together with anticipation.
Kurt came home, Marnie was ready. She was lounging on the couch
in a sleeveless polyester dress that was very uncomfortable, but
very short, and it clung like a second skin. She’d tamed
her chicken-fluff hair into a silky gold halo about her face.
eyes widened, then narrowed, taking in the lighting, the smells
of food and incense, Marnie’s appearance.
you have a nice day?" Marnie asked, making her voice slightly
scratched his head, confusion furrowing his brow. "What’s
slid off the couch, gliding towards him and taking his hand. "Come
to the kitchen with me.". She was a little afraid he’d
push her away, but he seemed almost like he was under a spell,
and he followed her, unresisting, as she led him to the kitchen.
kitchen table had been transformed, its small square surface sporting
a red charmeuse tablecloth with gleaming china plates and perfect
settings atop. Long pink taper candles sandwiched a single red
still don’t get it," Kurt said foggily. "What’s
tell you after dinner," Marnie said, looking up at him through
her lashes. They sat down to eat.
this wine is kinda strong," Kurt said at one point, which
made Marnie tense up for an instant. "I don’t remember
drinking anything like this before—it’s almost…howdoyacallit...bittersweet."
He sipped again, as Marnie held her breath. "I like it."
smiled in relief, lifting her glass in a silent toast.
dinner, the strangeness began. They were sitting at the table,
sipping vanilla-flavored detox tea and having a lazy discussion
about reincarnation, when Marnie noticed Kurt’s pupils were
dilated and focused on her. The expression on his face combined
with his stare was making her nervous. Her voice trailed off as
she gazed back at him. What was that strange, unfamiliar expression
on his face? Could it be...lust? It was somehow different, though,
and more intense–those flared nostrils, the way his lips
were drawn back the slightest bit from his teeth–he looked
almost...animal, like a panther who’d spotted his prey after
a long, dry hunt. Marnie’s heart leaped wildly in her chest.
She blinked a few times; her mouth watered. She felt the same
animal expression settling onto her own features.
was going on? she thought. Her pelvis felt like it was opening,
contracting, expanding. A tingling warmth began at her tailbone
and shot up through her pussy, mounting swiftly up her spine and
then spreading all over her back and front, encompassing her entire
body in heated, sweaty, horny fever. Her fever could be slaked
by only one thing...Kurt.
tried to focus on Kurt’s face then, but she was starting
to see colors. Purple…red…green…His face expanded
and contracted as she blinked, and she couldn’t make his
face appear normal. No matter, though. Who needed to see properly
to have a good fuck? If anything, sight just got in the way.
he had the same idea. They lunged towards each other at the same
moment, hampered only by the chairs they both knocked over. Marnie
kicked hers aside just in time to avoid it being tangled into
the leglock they now held each other in. Clothes started flying
every which way, and they looked to Marnie like pieces of rainbow
confetti. Her bra was a snowflake; it landed in the sink and didn’t
melt. She felt like she was going in slow motion, then fast motion,
slow, fast, slow, she could no longer feel normal time. Time was
like tangy taffy. Space was suspended.
didn’t care that nothing was comprehensible. All she wanted
was something to satiate the craving, pulsing maw her whole pubic
region had become–and that something had to be a cock in
her steamy, wet, tight pussy. And just when she was about to scream
with frustration at the clothes still between their skin and all
the limbs that were getting in the way, she felt it poking, then
burrowing in like a gopher on speed.
that was more like it! she thought. She began to twist and heave
her body enthusiastically. She was that feeling, that blessed,
divine feeling between her legs, and that was her entire existence
and being in that moment. God she was happy. She was so happy
she just wanted to…
Marnie grunted, squeezing as hard as she could.
shrieked. But, Marnie noticed through her haze of pleasure, that
shriek seemed to express something other than lust. Something
like…pain, could it be?
tried to focus on his face. It faded in and out of her vision—somehow
it was being superimposed every other second by a large panther-face,
black and velvety, panting, squealing now. The panther was trying
to speak between squeals now.
go! let go! You’re killing me!"
noticed then that he was no longer moving inside her. She had
him in a pussy-lock, clenched so tightly that he couldn’t
even pull out, despite her wetness.
relaxed her muscles the slightest bit, and he began to pull out.
Then she tightened them again even more, grabbing him so he couldn’t
move yet again.
are you doing, you bitch? Let me go!"
blinked her eyes and tried to focus again on her beloved, her
soulmate, who was trying to communicate with her. His chiseled
features, his Greek-god face was crumpled now into a strange tragic
mask. He was holding himself poised over Marnie’s body,
arms straight yet trembling, torso shining with sweat.
was saying something else now, but his voice seemed to be coming
from very far away. She closed her eyes and squeezed even harder.
She would keep him safe. Incorporate the breath, Tina had said.
Pull the energy up the spine. She squeezed and sucked in her breath,
a mighty, mighty breath. She felt an enormous force gathering
up in her vaginal muscles. All those Kegels. All that energy she’d
harnessed was now running deliciously through her tingling genitals.
She felt like they were so strong, they were like a second mouth,
sucking, sucking at her lover.
screamed as she came, the earthquake roiling up from her epicenter
and exploding through every nerve ending of her body. She felt
her physical boundaries dissolving, a truly divine bliss permeating
MacDonald had a farm," she sang in a dreamy voice. She floated,
enjoying the fog that drifted in and out of her brain. After a
few timeless moments, she opened her eyes. She was alone. Kurt
was nowhere to be seen, but she didn’t care. She wanted
only to hold on to the waves of euphoria that still coursed through
her in weakening pulses.
last conscious thought before she slept was that maybe she should
have tried the aphrodisiacs one at a time.
* * *
woke up with a splitting headache. She was on the kitchen floor,
naked and very cold. And bloated; her stomach hurt like the dickens.
All that shellfish, she guessed, and God knew whatever was in
that wine. She felt as if a fist were squeezing her insides in
a slow, nauseous pulse.
was alone. Where was Kurt? Her memories of the night before were
foggy, but she did know he’d been with her, here on the
floor, having intense sex.
didn’t feel like moving, but she hauled herself up. She
dragged herself into the shower and got herself feeling halfway
human again. Shuffling naked to the kitchen, she spotted the crumpled
polyester dress on the floor and pulled it on, wincing a little
at how tight it felt.
surveyed the kitchen, evaluating the collateral damage: tablecloth
and the remains of shellfish dinner, as well as utensils and a
few plates, lay strewn across the floor. She plucked her bra out
of the sink and then dropped it back in–it was soaking wet.
She got the broom and halfheartedly began to sweep.
she cleaned, she searched for a note from Kurt. She could find
no clue of his whereabouts anywhere. His keys and coat were still
lying by the door where he’d tossed them, and she could
not imagine where he could have gone. Was he angry with her, did
he think she was trying to manipulate him, had he stormed out
of the house and gone to be with another woman? All sorts of horrible
possibilities flooded her brain.
waiting the entire afternoon for him to come home, she began to
call around—she tried his workplace, his parents, then she
began to go through his cellphone, first calling all his closest
friends and then, driven by panic and worry, everyone else in
his address book. No results.
she called the police. "I want to report my boyfriend as
missing," she told the operator, her voice trembling.
did you see him last?" the operator’s voice droned,
female but sexless, monotonous.
swallowed hard. "Last night. We were...we were in bed together."
"What time was that?"
don’t know...maybe about midnight?"
ma’am, but we can’t do anything for you until 24 hours
felt like crying. She felt the need to keep the operator on the
line, for someone to listen to her, believe her. "But it’s
just not like him," she pleaded, voice cracking. "I
know something’s wrong. I just know it. Haven’t you
ever heard of female intuition?"
sexless voice softened very slightly. "Ma’am, you seem
pretty shaken up. Why don’t you go see your doctor, get
him to give you something. Call again tomorrow if your boyfriend
still hasn’t come home."
was nothing more they’d do for her, Marnie knew. Sniffling,
she hung up the phone. She didn’t need a doctor, she needed
the bile rose in her throat; leaning to the side, she deposited
a pile of steamy, half-digested shellfish onto the kitchen floor.
Ugh, maybe she should get checked out, at least for this nausea
and the pains in her stomach, she thought.
trying in vain to call her naturopath, she decided to swallow
her normal distaste for conventional medicine and go to the public
health clinic, which was just a few blocks from her apartment.
wait at the clinic wasn’t long. A middle-aged nurse with
short hair and a pronounced limp took her blood pressure, height,
and weight. She asked Marnie for her symptoms, then got a urine
sample and left the room.
lay down on the examination table. The nurse returned then, positioning
Marnie’s legs wide apart, feet balanced in stirrups. Her
hands on Marnie’s belly were gentle, but Marnie still felt
somewhat violated, yearning for her naturopath.
need to worry," the nurse finally said. "I can tell
you’ve been under a lot of stress, but your baby’s
thought she hadn’t heard correctly. "My what?"
nurse looked surprised. "Your baby, ma’am. What are
you, about five months along?"
I had my period last week!"
nurse gave Marnie a funny look, and then she shrugged. "Sometimes
the body behaves strangely. No doubt about it, though–I
just checked your urine test results--you are pregnant."
felt her belly. It really did look swollen, a lot more so than
it had yesterday. She was flabbergasted. She swore to herself
that she had her period right on time the last five months. And
that her belly had been its usual flat self even yesterday, when
she’d put on her tight polyester dress for Kurt–even
though the dress did seem much tighter today, she realized with
a stab of horror. And now…there was a five-month-old fetus
growing in there, which hadn’t been there yesterday.
getting her exam finished as quickly as possible, Marnie stumbled
out of the health clinic and into the parking lot. She got in
her car and sat there, stunned, returning her head to its position
on the steering wheel. Mechanically, she clenched her vaginal
muscles in a Kegel, and she felt a weird, eerily familiar sucking
sensation, and then a roiling in her belly; she burped and tasted
wine and mushrooms. Then, she felt the distinct sensation of something
in her belly moving–it felt like a tiny extra appendage
was kicking her. The baby was moving!
she wailed, leaning back into the car seat. "Where are you
when I need you?"
She placed her hand on her belly…then felt a horrible fear
begin to dawn on her.
is a bodyworker, yoga instructor, spiritual counselor, and occasionally
an attorney. She lives in Berkeley, CA and spends most of her
time pondering bodies, spirits, and the link between. With all
that pondering she has way too much inner dialogue going on, and
thus she writes. She writes for catharsis, deriving comfort from
linear arrangements of words amidst multi-dimensional chaos, and
she writes as a means of self-expression, finding a fierce and
unholy glee in baring bits of soul she didn’t even know
© 2005 by Colleen Chen
All rights reserved.