I am empty, starving. I eat but the hunger inside me is not satisfied. My limbs shake with anxiety, but no amount of activity or meditation will relieve the tension. I am not sexually frustrated, just craving something that has been missing for the past few weeks.
I need to be hurt by Him so badly. My back aches for his belt and my cheeks burn in anticipation of his slap. Everything inside me is taut, coiled tight, ready to be snapped by his force. I need him to beat me until skin is raw and my will is obliterated.
I am waiting, impatient and waiting. I know that I cannot control what he has planned for me or the course of my training. I cannot choose his methods or decide whether this will be the week when he marks me with the knife and I bleed for him. So I wait, vibrating with an anxious hum. I do not cut myself. I am a good girl. I will wait.