Kneeling before Him...
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Monday, February 21, 2005
I am tired, exhausted actually. My body is healing itself, making itself well again. I think this must take an enormous amount of energy because I all I want to do is sleep and lie around reading or watching stupid television shows. I tried watching a movie, Pirates of the Caribbean, but fell asleep half way through and couldn't be bothered trying to work out where I had seen up to. So I guess it takes a lot of energy for the body to get better, as I am certainly not using it anywhere else.
A lot of the time, when I am tired of reading and I don't want to go downstairs to the television but I can't fall asleep, I let my mind wander. It is not really a safe thing for me to do. My mind wanders into some strange places. Often I am comforted by thoughts of Mac and His arms around me, His body pressed next to mine. Then I start to think about how He smells and how He tastes and before I know it, I am imagining His body over mine and that perfect moment when He enters me. God how I love it. God I am hopeless. Is sex all I think about? The body is too tired but my mind is still willing. Seems I have a lot of trouble getting the two to agree but usually it is the other way around.
So I found myself with a moment alone yesterday in the shower and in spite of all the aches, or perhaps because of them, I decided to make myself come. I figured it would soothe me, calm me, release the body's natural opiates and ease the pain, kind of a natural remedy. (Is anyone out there buying this?) I really did think it would be good for me, but mainly, I just needed a release.
Using the showerhead to direct water onto my clitoris is such an easy way to come for me. It requires little effort and I come quickly and usually intensely. I didn't really want it to be intense and I didn't think it would be because of all the aches in my body. I was right. It wasn't intense, in fact it wasn't happening at all. I couldn't even get my tummy to flutter. I think a combination of fear that it would hurt and the exhaustion of standing in the shower was fighting against me.
Then from the back of my mind I heard a stranger's voice.
"Can't you see she is sick?" The stranger asked.
"Yes, she is sick, but it is important that Sarah still does her duty to me. Isn't it Sarah?" He answered, the big bad dark He that somehow sounds a lot like Mac.
"Yes Sir." I breathed.
"Good Girl." He crooned and I licked my lips as the hot spray of His semen landed on my cheeks, my tongue and in my hair.
I came then. It wasn't intense but for a few moments it hurt as my muscles contracted. I controlled my breathing and relaxed into it and it was nice. It soothed me. It calmed me and though I was even more exhausted, I felt a lot more peaceful for it. I went back to bed and slept deeper than I had for days.
I had to wonder what it was that caused my peacefulness. The endorphins? Sure, they would have played a part, but we all know that while a male's endorphins hit straight away, a female's endorphins take longer to set in and I am sure there are many theories about this out there. I personally like the one that surmises that the female needed time to escape from the male, therefore his endorphin rush would make him sluggish and put him to sleep, whereas she retained a clear mind and had time to get away from the awful brute that had just used her for his pleasure. (Sighs wistfully.)
But the calmness that I felt was immediate and was more than just a relaxing of my muscles. It was a relaxing of my mind. I have felt so out of control, almost like this isn't my body. I feel guilt at being sick. I feel weak and I feel a little useless and like I should be doing something other than sleep. I keep thinking that I should get up and shower, go downstairs and do some washing and make myself something to eat but instead I just lay there and wait for Mum to ask if I want anything and let her get it for me.
So I took back a little of the control by giving it away, even if it was to some imaginary Male. I served, I did my duty, I took pleasure in it and it soothed me. I was the 'good girl' I needed to be.
I know that Mac would never use me this way right now. He has had no inclination of using me at all except to smooth down my hair and kiss my eyes and tuck me back into bed. I guess seeing someone you love so sick is hardly a turn on. I am not exactly at my best. I think the saying 'death warmed up' is appropriate. And of course if He tried it, I might have to smack Him in the mouth. I am sick. I need pampering. He should be taking care of me. It's only in my fantasies that I want Him to be that mean.
I know I am lucky to be able to turn to the dark and brooding fantasy Him that is so much more controlling than I could handle and even luckier that I don't have to hide this mean Sir from Mac. He knows about it, encourages me to tell Him and perhaps when I am better, He will use what I tell Him against me to pleasure us both.
Hmmm, I think I need to start thinking up wickeder things.
I must be getting better, don't you think?