I am sick. A little bug decided to make a home somewhere in my body and has taken quite the residency. I despise being ill. I fight with every strength I can muster to avoid all forms of illness whether it be a gurgling tummy to what I call the "itchy-burning-click-your-tongue-to-the-roof-of-your mouth-to-scratch-away-the-awful-stinging-sensation" sickness. Why might I mention that I am sick in a journal based on my slaveness? Because, what started with a slight sniffle has manifested into a full blown transformation from confident slave to helpless little girl.

Being sick makes me feel little. I feel child like as though I need to be taken care of and I am not comfortable with the idea of being cared for. I realise such a statement must come across as an oxymoron seeing as I am a slave and therefore always under my Masters watch. Still, when I am an active healthy slave I feel empowered and strong but when my head aches and my chest rises far too quickly with short exasperated gasps, I feel weak and somewhat of a burden.

My littleness is a trait I am still coming to terms with. Although I confess I become grossly aroused when I refer to Master as "Daddy" and my body responds with intense fluidity when Master addresses me as his little girl, I still question those desires and can not help but try to suffocate them as opposed to releasing them and relishing in what so obviously provides pleasure for us both. Master has worked with me, trained me to open myself to the child in me who wishes to be punished, loved, cared for but alas, in moments such as this, I can not help but feel slightly threatened by my own responses.

I feel selfish when I am sick as well, as though I am unable to tend to my Masters desires. For me, serving Master, providing him with pleasure supersedes all else and when I am having to pause for a simple breath of air, I feel no ability to give to Him the way he deserves. Master has never made such comments on my service, on the contrary. He loves and cherishes me and understands that when I am sick I need time to heal and recuperate. No, it is I who grumbles at my inabilities, who frowns upon my immune system, growling at the little infection that steals time from my slave expectations.

I know I must have patience for myself and to accept myself, little girl and all and perhaps being sick is just one way my body is telling to me stop fighting.

Something to think about.

~His congested little girl

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