Monday, February 7, 2011

He takes care of me

I've been silent.
I've been sick.
Again.
Damn it.

Another virus. Or a relapse of the last one, except with higher fever. I'm utterly disgusted. And I don't like the idea of being sick on my birthday (Wednesday). It seems like a bad omen.

There was a piece on public radio this morning about some people being more genetically prone to getting sick than others are. That's me. The germ magnet. Not only a magnet, but equipped with huge pores through which the germs enter and infect. Ugh.

I was supposed to get together with Evan. First it was postponed due to the snow and my power outage. Then I had a little cold after sleeping in an unheated house for 2 nights. And then I started getting sick again. Not only was I concerned about infecting him; I also just wasn't up for it. Sex with Evan is a glorious thing. And the focus is my pleasure. For many hours and many orgasms. And now I'm afraid he's going to want to give up trying to connect.

Luckily, I did get to serve the sadist last week shortly before I started getting sick again. But Tuesdays are now his most likely day for a visit, and there's no way he'll be here tomorrow. I don't have much energy at all, and he at least is properly cautious about staying away under such circumstances.

But he's my Daddy.
So he takes care of me.

He doesn't goo all over me.
No litany of "poor baby" from my Daddy.
Instead, there is a short list of instructions on how to take care of myself.
Always things I know.
Liquids.
Rest.
That sort of thing.

This time I told him all about the fever. It was quite high. And he reminded me of a magic technique. My mother would have called it a cold compress. He called it a damp, cool washcloth.

Daddy's girl is a very good girl.
Even when she's sick.

So I fetched a dark red washcloth from the linen closet, held it under the running cold water, wrung it out, and positioned it on the creepy, crawly, feverish skin of my pale belly and tits. The first shock of cold was like a torturing strike, making up for the twist to my nipple I'll have to forgo this week. Then I relaxed into it.

When I was done, my temperature was down by 4 points Fahrenheit.
I fell asleep, and awoke to a further drop of a full point.

Isn't my Daddy a wonderful doctor?!

2 comments:

sin said...

playing doctor with the sadist..

Paul said...

OG, if it works, yes he is, for you.
I hope that it continues to work, and you recover fully.
Love and warm hugs,
Paul.