{"id":2313,"date":"2023-07-11T00:34:54","date_gmt":"2023-07-11T00:34:54","guid":{"rendered":"https:\/\/xrafstar.monster\/blog\/?p=2313"},"modified":"2023-07-31T01:12:09","modified_gmt":"2023-07-31T01:12:09","slug":"serious-weakness-but-with-girls","status":"publish","type":"post","link":"https:\/\/xrafstar.monster\/blog\/serious-weakness-but-with-girls\/","title":{"rendered":"Serious Weakness but with Girls"},"content":{"rendered":"
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\"\"<\/figure><\/div>\n\n\n

\u274c<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u274c SPOILERS <\/strong>\u274c
This is an expansion pack for people who finished Serious Weakness<\/a>. It is the entire story in girl form, hypercompressed, violently downloaded into your head.
I\u2019m working on a lot of projects right now so I\u2019m not able to get to my yuri stuff as soon as I wanted. So here\u2019s Serious Weakness But With Girls as a little treat for the girlfags out there. <3<\/em><\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u274c<\/p>\n\n\n\n

A painting with an X carved into it. A nice house with a stranger in it.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

The first thought Tria has about Insul is that those fingers have no sensation. Looks like a chemical burn.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

Then she wonders if Insul\u2019s a tranny. She has excellent bone structure and her voice is kind of deep, but maybe that\u2019s just because of her height. The world is full of all kinds of girls, Tria thinks in a self-satisfied way.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

Insul says, \u201cWant to play?\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

There\u2019s nothing lonelier than a golf course at night. The house\u2019s private course can\u2019t be that big, but at night it seems to extend infinitely.<\/p>\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n

\u274c<\/p>\n\n\n\n

She realizes Insul is staring at her, and has been for some time. After her internal energy meter ran low and she determined that Insul probably wasn\u2019t someone she needed to impress, she stopped making fake eye contact. Usually people glance over occasionally but focus on whatever she\u2019s focusing on, which right now is golf. But she has the strange feeling Insul has been watching her brazenly this whole time, with that zero makeup, zero affect face, naked and dead and hungry the way an animal shows hunger, face unchanging, everything held in the posture, the attention.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

Now that she\u2019s making real eye contact for the first time, she sees the complete deadness of Insul\u2019s face, eyes that eat the shadows. Resting bitch face, she thinks reflexively. Not resting bitch face. Resting death face. Resting fuck you and die face. But it\u2019s not resting.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

Tria says, \u201cWhat?\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cYou think you\u2019re better than me.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u274c<\/p>\n\n\n\n

Insul chokes Tria out, golf club across the throat, then drops her to the ground. Tria\u2019s knee aches from the sharp impact of the club, too painful to do more than crawl.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

Insul drags the club next to Tria\u2019s head, setting off hypersensory teeth-grinding thought nullification. She bends over and her brown hair falls like a curtain, cut at irregular heights, squares of stars behind the dark hairy mass. She stares into Tria\u2019s eyes.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cYou have pretty high pain tolerance for a girl.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u274c<\/p>\n\n\n\n

Tria shivers in the public park restroom, her nice professional dress torn, shoulder exposed. \u201cI need a stall.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

Insul stands at the entrance, listening to the distant laugh of hikers, the rumble of a car somewhere. \u201cUse the urinal.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cBut I\u2019m a girl.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cSo?\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cAnatomically\u2014\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

Insul grabs her by the hair and pushes her against the urinal so she\u2019s forced to straddle it. \u201cTake them off.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cHnnh?\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cYour underwear.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cI d-don\u2019t\u2014\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

Insul twists the girl\u2019s dark hair, crushing her cheek into the cold porcelain. \u201cFeel how hard that\u2019ll be when I slam your mouth into it?\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cUm\u2014\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

Insul grips tighter, dyed green strands feeding through her knuckles like an industrial accident.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cOkay, okay\u2014\u201d She pulls her panties down, trying to keep her skirt from riding up.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cYou wanted to piss. Do it.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cYou\u2019re m-making me nervous, I can\u2019t\u2014\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

Insul sighs. \u201cYou think if you fuck around enough, someone will come save you.\u201d She trails off, mouth still open like she\u2019s going to say something else, the first time Tria\u2019s ever seen that hesitation in her, so she waits, hoping Insul has finally come back to sanity.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

Insul\u2019s teeth sink into the nape of her neck. The contents of her bladder explode messily across the urinal, thighs quivering in a dripping arch.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u274c<\/p>\n\n\n\n

Tria cries as the scissors chop through her hair, delicate lines of blood raining from her scalp.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cYou\u2019re not a girl anymore. You\u2019re just mine.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cPlease s-stop\u2014\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cYou should thank me. Your tiny fucking tits weren\u2019t fooling anyone.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

Tria covers her naked chest, tear dripping warm onto her clenched hands.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cYou were always going to be a shitty version of the automatic girls.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cIt\u2019s not true, let me have my phone, I have pics\u2014\u201c<\/p>\n\n\n\n

I posed so carefully. Why are the rules changing?<\/em><\/p>\n\n\n\n

Insul holds up the cracked phone. The image gallery is empty. \u201cYou have nothing. And I deleted your socials too.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

I hate you. I hate you I hate you I hate you\u2014<\/em><\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cWhat’s your cash app password?\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cNo!\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

Insul taps around the phone. \u201cFine. I don\u2019t need your bank account.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cWhat?\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

Happy anime sounds come from the phone, and Tria grabs for it. Insul holds it just high enough to keep away, and finally Tria\u2019s arms fall at her sides, pale and skinny, cloudy with contusion.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

Insul does gacha pulls until Tria\u2019s bank account is empty. All the shitty anime girls Tria lusted after, smiling and dancing in the bathroom sky, the only light in that dark space, glossy CGI sparkles like stars, cascading into the blur of her decaying vision.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u274c<\/p>\n\n\n\n

Tria stares at the Holzer plaque on the wall.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

SOMEONE WANTS
TO CUT A HOLE IN YOU
AND FUCK YOU
THROUGH IT, BUDDY.<\/em><\/p>\n\n\n\n

She could reach out and destroy all these old artworks so easily. She\u2019s inside of history, in a vulnerable place.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

The director\u2019s body is starting to burn as flames gurgle through the spilled paint. The fumes make Tria dizzy.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u274c<\/p>\n\n\n\n

Crimson fluid spatters Tria\u2019s face, slicking her hair back tight against her skull. Paint cans lay on their sides, raining red. Hot air blasts from the fire consuming the museum, flapping the plastic wrap stretched over the unfinished wall. Her tears cut through the red paint.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

My mask is running.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

She coughs from smoke, then her expression returns to blankness. Insul isn\u2019t done cutting.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u274c<\/p>\n\n\n\n

Insul cuts her bangs in the mirror badly, as Tria lays on the bathroom floor. She wears a white button up shirt soaked red with blood and nothing else, the flaps barely covering between her legs. She stares up with a black eye as wisps of brown hair fall down, stiff with coagulated blood. Her own hair was cut short for the museum, green dye sticking from the black hair in ugly flat chops. Whenever she catches her reflection, she feels like an emaciated prepubescent boy, some kind of cringe boysona eidolon she’d have drawn on DeviantArt after overdosing on Y2K nostalgia.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

All the safe sweet smells and soft dresses and salon-cut hair she\u2019d managed to assemble to look like a human being after being made fun of for so long, stripped from her by this psychopath. She hasn\u2019t felt this sexless and stunted since middle school, when she crashed through fifty walls of social rules she\u2019d never even considered. Every week she burnt with shame, manually repairing the mistakes she made and following other girls around trying to become perfect copies of them, until one day, someone called her pretty. And she thought, I\u2019m a human being now.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

She touches her chest and instantly dissociates. The X cut through her tits. One of the nipples is sliced in half. The two halves won\u2019t join together, screaming raw. Nerve pain radiates through her chest in response to temperature, humidity, elevated heartbeat.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

Insul says, \u201cYou\u2019re so flat, they really thought you were a guy.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

Tria thinks, I\u2019ll never have normal sex again. My way of relating to my body is ruined forever. I\u2019ll never be able to wear a bikini. Never be naked in front of someone again. It\u2019s okay. She made me break up with my boyfriend.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

Will it hurt when I touch myself?<\/p>\n\n\n\n

Insul gets down on the floor, scissors clicking on the tiles like a toy marched around. Her bangs are mutilated, her hair much shorter than the barbarian mess it was at the museum, chic mimicry from a distance, as if she\u2019s sucking the femininity from Tria.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

Insul says, \u201cDid you ever play the Sims?\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cYeah.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cI\u2019d trap people like you in cement rooms. Set them on fire.\u201d Insul dangles the scissors between Tria\u2019s legs, the cold steel dragging across the bruised thighs. \u201cBut you can\u2019t come back to life. So whatever I do to you. Has to be really fucking good.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

Tria infodumps about her own ways of playing the Sims and how she\u2019d help them have the perfect life. She\u2019s very afraid of the scissors and talking seems to distract Insul.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

Insul says, \u201cBut did you ever torture them?\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

Tria had forgotten about that. It was a long time ago. \u201cI had WickedWhims installed and one day I found this mod on LoversLab. I couldn\u2019t figure it out and when I came back to the thread it was deleted. So I forgot about it and then a week later I realized it was working, I just hadn\u2019t found the control thing in the UI. You could do pretty bad stuff to your Sim with it. You could make the whole family watch. I turned it on by accident. It was scary. But I\u2019d made all my Sims so beautiful. So I watched too.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

Insul is silent. The scissors start to rotate, one of the tips poking the soft edge of Tria\u2019s cunt lips. Tria starts to shake. \u201cIf I tell you what I did, will you not do it?\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cNot do what?\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

Tria doesn\u2019t want to say in case she makes it come true.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

Insul stares with those dead brown eyes, nearly black in the dim bathroom. \u201cNot torture you like the Sims or not use these scissors on you?\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cCan it. Can it be both? That don\u2019t get done?\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

Insul snips the scissors and Tria twitches, her skinny thighs quivering just a little. The scissors are laid flat on Tria\u2019s leg, chilling metal balanced just above the knee, a tingling glissando that could be a phantom sensation or a healthy rivulet of cold sweat. \u201cTell me about the Sims.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cOkay. I made the dad fuck the daughter. And he put her head in the toilet then he put his gun in her mouth. It wasn\u2019t a real item it was a gun that only existed when you were fucking. And the mom and the son were crying and shaking and their mood was dropping and his was dropping and he had a mental break. So he shot them both while he was still inside her. And the Reaper came. Their dog was running toward the bodies but the pathfinding got stuck so it just spinned back and forth and wasn\u2019t able to comfort either of them.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cComfort?\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cI think it\u2019s an idea I had in my head.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cOkay.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cIt was kind of funny. The Reaper was watching like it was waiting for the daughter to get shot too. But I made it so the dad shot himself. And the daughter instantly stood up, and the Reaper didn\u2019t leave so her family was dead in the living room and she was naked talking with the Reaper and the dog was doing excrements in the corner. And the little bubbles went up and they talked about silly little things. Just like this.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cI like that.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cThanks.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cI have to keep you alive until I think of the perfect horrible thing to do to you. So let\u2019s order pizza.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u274c<\/p>\n\n\n\n

Insul sits on the toilet, drinking another can of Monster as she pisses aggressively. Her feet smell like dried paint and blood. The paint stays bright and colorfast, but the blood has dried to dark brown. She hasn\u2019t showered for a long time. She laughs that dead laugh like a bad recording, a laugh without joy, a laugh to signal some internal switch that Tria still can\u2019t understand.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cOpen your mouth.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

Tria opens her mouth.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

Insul tips the can and the dregs spatter Tria\u2019s soft little mouth, guttering out the myasthenic dip in the side.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cIt should hit you really hard because you haven\u2019t eaten for awhile. So when I chase you, I want you to try this time. Or you\u2019ll be really upset. At what happens to you.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

Tria can still hear the ocean roaring from last time. The sand, hot enough to burn her feet. She ran really hard and it made her muscles misfire, overload, her whole body shut down. At the end she was crawling into the sea, trying to escape, trying to fling herself into something bigger.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

Insul dragged her back, leaving a groove in the wet sand. As Insul cut her name into her thighs, Tria watched the waves wipe away even the crude trace of her existence, leaving a shiny smooth blankness.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

Insul says, \u201cI think I felt something that time.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cYay.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u274c<\/p>\n\n\n\n

People started throwing up in the cafeteria. I stood there watching them and I was smiling. I don\u2019t know why I don\u2019t smile anymore. The lips move but it\u2019s not connected underneath.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

I could smell everyone\u2019s stomach acid. It was in my sinuses.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

Not everyone was dead. We saw that girl who kept snitching on us. Blake gave me a cup of the special sauce. I could feel it about to melt through the plastic so I dumped it in the girl\u2019s mouth. She couldn\u2019t even scream. Her lips melted back into her throat.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

The cops were outside. Blake told me to hide. Said the cameras couldn\u2019t see what I did. It\u2019s only real if the cameras see you. She told me the invisible way to walk. Through the blind spot. I hid under the table. I thought she had a plan. I thought we\u2019d be together forever.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

I heard her drinking something. She fell down and started puking. I heard the cops coming down the hall. I crawled under the tables until I was next to her.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

Her puke spread across the floor and the chemical was pure enough to burn my fingers. It hurt a lot but it must have hurt her worse. So I kept touching it. Because I was dedicated to our friendship.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

Insul holds up her fingers and Tria finally understands why the tips are burnt, the nails black.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cAnd I\u2019m dedicated to our friendship. Tria.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u274c<\/p>\n\n\n\n

Insul says, \u201cYou’re a sponge. Except instead of stupid factoids, you’re going to remember everything I do to you, and everything you are now. Retards like you are so easy to overwrite.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cYou\u2019re the one who got overwritten. Blake erased your personality.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

Eyes like dirty glass. \u201cI don’t remember what I used to be. I just know. With Blake it was beautiful.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cSo the psycho who groomed you died before you could get past the honeymoon phase. No wonder you\u2019re fucked up.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

Tria flinches, but Insul\u2019s tensed muscles don\u2019t snap. She just stares emotionlessly, then says, \u201cThe normie you were dating will never love you like that.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cI am. I am dating him.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

Insul wraps her arms around Tria from behind, the crossed limbs setting off a red mirror of pain in the scars below. \u201cYour skin doesn\u2019t work for him anymore.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

Tria tries not to burst into tears. \u201cYou\u2019re jealous of my healthy relationship. That\u2019s why you\u2019ve been sabotaging us\u2014\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cYour boyfriend\u2014\u201d Insul traces Tria\u2019s chest and the X flashes with pain, the crust of her badly healing nipple breaking, yellow pus soaking her shirt warm as melting ear wax. \u201cYour ex, boyfriend. Your X. He has this idea of you. It must take a lot of energy to maintain. Oh my godddd. Big smile. Lots of exclamation marks.\u201d She puts her lips up to Tria\u2019s ear. \u201cBut I know you want to do the same thing over and over and get dirtier and dirtier and be a dirtbag. I knew it after talking to you about thirty seconds. That you were disgusting like me.\u201d Insul\u2019s lap is warm, rough denim crotch pulled taut and smeared with skid marks or menstrual dark from the bony ass struggling on it. \u201cWe can sit around like lizards. Like robots. And know. Just know. We don\u2019t have to smile anymore. You\u2019ll never have to go outside again.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

A cold hard desperation gleams in Tria\u2019s face, teeth like chips of milk. \u201cIf I can\u2019t go outside, I\u2019ll kill myself.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

Insul is silent. Then she says, \u201cDon\u2019t kill yourself.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u274c<\/p>\n\n\n\n

Halloween night, they stand in the middle of Spirit Halloween, Tria covered in real blood, Insul in a black and white cheerleader outfit with the tags still on. \u201cIt\u2019s like I\u2019m your hot girlfriend,\u201d Insul says in a monotone. \u201cA girl who likes short guys.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

Some college boys are making comments about Insul\u2019s ass, too drunk to realize or care about being heard. Then they notice Tria. It\u2019s not like the movies where a clear casus belli is muttered or a body part is referred to directly, it\u2019s the way they say it that makes Tria hurt, like pack animals clicking to each other. It took her a long time to understand those kinds of insults, the trailing sentences and backhanded compliments. Half of them think she\u2019s a lesbian, the other half thinks she\u2019s a beta cuck or Insul\u2019s little brother.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

Insul\u2019s tits crush into the back of Tria\u2019s head as she holds her from behind. \u201cThe thing you don\u2019t know about him. Is his dick is huge.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

They laugh and she says, \u201cDon\u2019t laugh.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

They walk away but one of them whispers some shit and the other giggles so she follows them into the parking lot and Tria watches through the glass as Insul\u2019s thighs flash, the skirt flipping up as she slams the tallest of the college boys into the hood of his car. Her spine stands out in the crop top like a dinosaur bone trying to escape, bulging like she\u2019s saying something very forcefully.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

She comes back inside and there\u2019s a single drop of blood on the white trim of her top. \u201cIt\u2019s okay. They won\u2019t call the cops.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cWow, I love when people don\u2019t call the cops,\u201d Tria says, matching the monotone.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

Insul stands there breathing a little heavy, waiting for her dislocated emotional muscles to calm down somewhere inside the black box. She studies Tria\u2019s face like a puzzle. \u201cYou\u2019re thinking about something.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

Tria is surprised. She hadn\u2019t even admitted the thought to herself, the kind that usually resolves like mild indigestion. \u201cI was just thinking. That\u2019s what people see. They\u2019ll never take me seriously. No matter how I look. I\u2019m just a little\u2026fucking\u2026\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cHey, Tria.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cYes?\u2019<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cYou look like a hot fucking guy.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

Blood rushes to Tria\u2019s face.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

Insul gets close, smelling like BO and apparel factory chemicals, price tag dangling from the band of her skirt. \u201cYou look like the hottest coolest fucking little freak.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cAre you trying to do a honeymoon phase on me?\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

Insul allows her face to go blank, like clear water showing you the bottom. \u201cYou know I\u2019m not lying.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cI just don\u2019t understand.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cWhen I saw you, it was like a piece of dead skin I had to keep pulling on.\u201d Her nail traces the back of Tria\u2019s neck, so uncharacteristically light it sets off a shiver. \u201cAnd now it\u2019s like. I want to give you something.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cIt just makes me nervous when you show off like that. With violence.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

Insul drops her arm around Tria, pulling her against her hip. \u201cFine. We do it socially. People see me with you. And that\u2019s social proof. So you\u2019re basically me. And I\u2019m basically you.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u274c<\/p>\n\n\n\n

Making out in the Spirit Halloween changing stall, dark curtain, the floor is soft with discarded clothes from everyone before them and no one is paid enough to give a shit so the costumes and masks will keep piling up forever and their forms can change perpetually.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cWow, the kid costumes fit you. You\u2019re a little. Fucking. Mickey Mouse big button shota.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cThis isn\u2019t Mickey Mouse. It’s Spider Man.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cWhat\u2019s the difference?\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cAre you serious? Wait. I think the Mickey Mouse shorts are on over the Spiderman, thing.\u201d It\u2019s hard to see, only the light that bounces off the ceiling shows her a jumble of costumes stuck to her body, fabric tearing to expose slivers of pale flesh.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cIt\u2019s cutting off my circulation.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

Insul traces Tria\u2019s swollen thighs, seams cutting into the bruised flesh. \u201cI know.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

Tria tries to reach behind for the zipper, but the costume is too tight, her arms can\u2019t bend back. \u201cI\u2019m having trouble. Breathing.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

Insul kisses her again and she starts to asphyxiate, hanging in those long, wiry arms, the oxygen in her lungs breaking apart, Insul sucking up her carbon dioxide, her waste products, her bad breath, teeth unbrushed for a week, Insul\u2019s lips hungry and crushing like they\u2019re going to swallow her entire face.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u274c<\/p>\n\n\n\n

Tria sits in the passenger seat of the car, wearing tight white capri pants. She can\u2019t believe they\u2019re going back to her boyfriend\u2019s apartment. Maybe it\u2019s all over.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

Insul pulls a pink-purple box from the glove compartment. \u201cGot you a present.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cI don’t use tampons.\u201d Bleeding into her dirty underwear for a week was so unbearably disgusting. Dark red streak on her inner thigh, itch so bad she thought her vagina had an infection.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

“You do now.” Insul, one arm over the wheel, staring lazy sideways with dark eyelashes.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cBut I’m…\u201d Tria\u2019s legs squeeze together, her toes curling in the sandals. \u201c\u2026too small down there.”<\/p>\n\n\n\n

Insul’s hand rests on Tria\u2019s leg, denim blinding white in the morning light. \u201cYou don\u2019t want to bleed in front of your boyfriend, do you?\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u274c<\/p>\n\n\n\n

Tria kneels in front of the toilet, dizzy from the pressure on her cervix. “I think my vagina is poisoned\u2014\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

She throws up. It burns between her legs, this cruel bullet.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u274c<\/p>\n\n\n\n

Insul is coming up on some evil cocktail of designer gamer powders in the bathroom and she has Tria cornered, her hand stretching out the crotch of the girl’s pants. The bloody tampon lays on the floor like a vampire\u2019s sperm.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

Tria whispers in a stressed voice, \u201cMy boyfriend\u2014\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cSpit it out.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cWhat?\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cSpit out what you just said.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

Tria spits into Insul\u2019s hand and Insul rubs it on Tria\u2019s mouth, smearing her lipstick. She feels the texture of the burnt fingers, rough on her soft slack lips.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

Insul says, \u201cHe\u2019s not your boyfriend. I\u2019m your boyfriend.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cI don\u2019t\u2026<\/p>\n\n\n\n

Insul wraps her arm around Tria\u2019s chest and the sliced nipple sparks. \u201cYou think he\u2019ll want you the next time you take your shirt off? I know his type. He\u2019s so fucking nice but you don\u2019t need nice. You need a blood transfusion.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cHuh?\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cYou were dying and you didn\u2019t even know it.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cHe\u2019s\u2014\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cHe\u2019s shallow. But I\u2019m.\u201d Insul sticks her fingers inside Tria\u2019s cunt. \u201cDeeper.\u201d She freezes, then holds up a reddish finger.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cS-stop, you\u2019ll get blood everywhere.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cWhen has that stopped us?\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cYou keep applying a retro-narrative to what happened. There\u2019s no us. I was a bystander.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cNot at the end, you weren\u2019t.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cYeah. You know me that well? Because you\u2019re like, the only person in the whole world who gets it, right?\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cWhen I was on the floor touching Blake\u2019s puke. I think that\u2019s how you felt looking at me.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cI don\u2019t want to reward that part of myself.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cShe was a shitty boss. She was going to squeeze the normie out of you and discard your retard ass. Don\u2019t tell me that seeing her, forced to respect you\u2014don\u2019t tell me it didn\u2019t feel good. That this. Feels good.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

Something else pushes inside her, bigger than the fingers, but not bony. Feels like a bottle or something. The stretch hurts but feels good at the same time, warm full sensation, contractions of ugly pleasure in her walls.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cFor such a small bitch you have a noisy fucking vagina.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

Tria stares at the floor, so mortified her face feels like it\u2019s going to pop, flushed red heavy with blood, eyes blurred and dripping as the travel-size bottle slides in and out with loud wet sticky sounds and gasps of vaginal air, plastic squeezing with her contractions, mango cream spurting from the open cap, belching and splatting to the floor in fat white glops.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cIt\u2019s too big, please. Please.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

Insul drops the bottle and the white plastic is now rosy with blood. She gropes on the counter for something and Tria hears buzzing and starts shaking.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cIt\u2019s okay,\u201d Insul says. \u201cIt\u2019s not big.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

The electric toothbrush hums along Tria\u2019s lips and she gasps. The smooth back of the brush turns until the bristles are eating at her clit and her eyes squeeze shut, fists clenched on the floor but her meds are wearing off so her hands feel doughy and numb and her fingers melt all around her in her hair on her shoulders stretched to the horizon, face on the cold tile, ass up, crotch dripping. The buzzing builds and each time the pain seems like it\u2019s going to overwhelm her the pleasure chases after, agonizing dead heat.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

Insul\u2019s teeth graze the soft flesh of her trembling thigh. \u201cI\u2019m going to make you feel so fucking good you never need anyone else.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

The bristles are going inside now. Make her stop. Make her do something else. \u201cDon\u2019t you want to cum?\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

Insul doesn\u2019t move, the toothbrush still humming abrasively in the tender pink opening. \u201cIf I cum, I think I might kill myself. And you.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

It only stops when the toothbrush runs out of power. I\u2019ve run out of power, Tria thinks. Where can I get power? Her cunt stings, glittering with tiny red droplets.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

Insul docks the toothbrush and it beeps. \u201cThey\u2019re going to pick that up tomorrow and wonder why it smells like the most amazing pussy on the planet.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

Tria rolls over, pelvis aching, and looks up. The bristles are red, a ropy clot of uterine lining clinging to the handle.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u274c<\/p>\n\n\n\n

In the forest, above the flood. A cabin in the rain. A spilled bucket of piss, urea decaying to ammonia stench.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

Tria\u2019s boyfriend managed to beat Insul\u2019s tooth out, her brown hair wrapped around his finger. But she kept going, broken glass, scissors, she got it inside him, through the ankle and a bunch of other dots. When she was motionless on the floor, he went looking for the first aid kit, \u201cOh shit, I think I\u2019m having blood loss\u201d, and as he sat down to wrap his wounds, she sat up like a fucking zombie, nose busted, sucking air through her mouth, and grabbed the gauze at its loosest length and pulled it around his neck.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

Then she looked back at Tria and her dead expression was even harder to read through her battered face. Was it victory? Finally you are mine? Or was it looking for permission?<\/p>\n\n\n\n

Tria sat there a long time, then said, \u201cIf you\u2019re going to kill him, we need bleach. Or we\u2019ll get caught.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u274c<\/p>\n\n\n\n

Tria stares down in a gas mask with a clear visor, eyes cold and purple-rimmed. \u201cIs this what you wanted? Someone who wouldn\u2019t hurt you like those girls hurt you? Or the. The perfect boy?\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

Her smile stretches crazily, one eye stark, the other melting sick. \u201cDo you think you succeeded?\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

Insul lays on the basement floor, gasping for air, eyes bloodshot. Her voice is even huskier from the chloramine inhalation. The skin around her mouth sags from chemical irritation, exposing the sides of her teeth until it seems like her face could detach from the underlying muscle.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u274c<\/p>\n\n\n\n

Tria falls to her knees on the hard concrete floor, head hanging, bony spine naked under the skylight. One by one, teardrops fall on the plastic of the gas mask visor, quivering clear, until a reservoir has formed and her face is blurred.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cWhy did you have to be so stupid?\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cHhhgk?\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cJust once. I want to be the one who saves someone. So why did it have to be you?\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u274c<\/p>\n\n\n\n

Insul sucks on an inhaler, out of breath. Tria watches her from the top of the hill with a smile perfect with pyridostigmine. \u201cYou can\u2019t catch me?\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

Insul looks up, then runs at her with a sudden burst of speed, knocking Tria to the ground. Insul gasps for air on top of her, chest swelling and crushing, face red. She\u2019s unable to talk, only pant hoarsely, her damaged lungs straining against Tria\u2019s mutilated chest, aching heat between them.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

Tria says, \u201cWas it worth it?\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

Insul stares from an inch away, eyes still laced with burst blood vessels, and nods, still unable to speak. Tria strokes the damp whorls of brown hair on the back of Insul\u2019s neck, a finger curling around to stroke the throat full of mute, burning air. \u201cGood.\u201d<\/p>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":"

\u274c \u274c SPOILERS \u274cThis is an expansion pack for people who finished Serious Weakness. It is the entire story in girl form, hypercompressed, violently downloaded into your head.I\u2019m working on a lot of projects right now so I\u2019m not able to get to my yuri stuff as soon as I wanted. So here\u2019s Serious Weakness […]<\/p>\n","protected":false},"author":1,"featured_media":0,"comment_status":"open","ping_status":"open","sticky":false,"template":"","format":"standard","meta":{"_mi_skip_tracking":false,"_monsterinsights_sitenote_active":false,"_monsterinsights_sitenote_note":"","_monsterinsights_sitenote_category":0,"footnotes":""},"categories":[24],"tags":[43],"class_list":["post-2313","post","type-post","status-publish","format-standard","hentry","category-story","tag-serious-weakness"],"_links":{"self":[{"href":"https:\/\/xrafstar.monster\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/2313","targetHints":{"allow":["GET"]}}],"collection":[{"href":"https:\/\/xrafstar.monster\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts"}],"about":[{"href":"https:\/\/xrafstar.monster\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/types\/post"}],"author":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/xrafstar.monster\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/users\/1"}],"replies":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/xrafstar.monster\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/comments?post=2313"}],"version-history":[{"count":22,"href":"https:\/\/xrafstar.monster\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/2313\/revisions"}],"predecessor-version":[{"id":2380,"href":"https:\/\/xrafstar.monster\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/2313\/revisions\/2380"}],"wp:attachment":[{"href":"https:\/\/xrafstar.monster\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/media?parent=2313"}],"wp:term":[{"taxonomy":"category","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/xrafstar.monster\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/categories?post=2313"},{"taxonomy":"post_tag","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/xrafstar.monster\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/tags?post=2313"}],"curies":[{"name":"wp","href":"https:\/\/api.w.org\/{rel}","templated":true}]}}