Its hard. Ordinarily I would be taking many naughty pictures and videos for him, teasing, and tormenting him with what he’s missing. Stoking the fire till he gets worked up enough that when he next seen me, he took his frustrations out on his favourite fuck toy.
But I’m just not feeling it. My body hurts. Its battered from the inside out and its not easy to feel sexy when you’re ill.
My escape place has always been the shower. Its where I go when I’m sad cause you can cry in peace, but recently it’s been where I go to sooth my aching body. Water as hot as I can stand on my lower back, trying to penetrate through to my core, as I wash off the frustration, the drugged-up feelings from the medication, and the occasional tear.
I know in my heart that the fires are still there. That when Daddy sees me next, he won’t treat me like a patient, he’ll treat me like his baby girl, his coveted possession. But it can’t hurt to throw a little accelerant on it.
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