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Enigma Sadeness Part 1
It had been nearly ten years since Matilda had partaken in sins of the flesh. In one month it would be a decade since she took her solemn vow in front of God to live a contemplative existence of medication and prayer, forsaking any urges and denying herself any kind of sexual pleasure whatsoever. For the most part it had been relatively easy, her faith was strong and she was able to resist her quim’s calling. However, every now and then, and more frequently of late, she had fantasized of touching herself intimately. She had become wracked with guilt over this yearning and hadn’t spoken of her desire to another soul other than the almighty himself. It seemed illicit, sinful, contradictory of everything that the good book taught. But she was a full-blooded woman after all, time may have blurred the lines somewhat, but the fact remained that she had needs like any other and these impulses had been renounced long ago.
Mainstream society had not suited her, life had not been kind. Her abusive stepfather had callously snatched away any confidence she had in herself from an early age. A long line of sexual abuse had left her scarred and her inability to share this with another meant that she internalized everything. While other kids her age in school were making friends, attending parties and going through the motions of teenage life, Matilda was hiding herself from plain sight and suffering in silence, the only way she knew how. When her mother tragically died from ovarian cancer at the age of 37, her whole life was thrown into disarray and she acted out accordingly. Her stepfather drank himself into a stupor and regularly lashed out in her direction, so it was left to her grandparents to pick up the pieces. She constantly defied them and fast became known as an easy lay about campus, sleeping with numerous frisky co-eds in an attempt at shutting out her considerable pain. It never worked.
She had always been something of an ugly duckling at school but that changed as she reached her late teens. Any persistent acne had cleared by the time she turned eighteen and she eventually began to fit her skin rather snugly. The sudden attention of boys her own age should have provided her with the confidence boost she craved but she knew, deep down, that they were only interested in one thing. Sex admittedly offered release for her but there was never any emotional investment from her various suitors which made for a rather hollow experience. They would get their kicks, but never concern themselves with returning the favor, leaving her frustrated and feeling used. Consequently she learned and perfected the art of self-gratification as this provided the intimacy other exploits lacked sorely and critically she felt in control. She ultimately learned how to love herself rather than giving herself a look of disdain each time she passed a full-length mirror.
Then she met William. He was different to any other male she had ever come into contact with and seemed genuinely interested in her happiness. They began to court and he acted with dignity and honor, calling her when he said he would and never pushing her into doing anything she wasn’t already comfortable with. It was two months into their relationship before things escalated sexually and, when they did, it was a shared experience and he proved a delicate and respectful lover. Her outlook began to change and she started to see a future with William, until fate intervened in the cruelest way imaginable. He was two weeks away from his twentieth birthday when his car blew a tire, careering off the freeway and into a signpost. He burned alive in the wreckage and Matilda was left utterly devastated by his death, refusing to leave her room for months afterwards and repeatedly listening to the numerous mix-tapes he had compiled for her before he was so harshly and swiftly taken.
Her grandparents became distraught over her spontaneous decline and felt powerless as there was little they could do to raise her flagging spirits. At one point they enlisted her on a course of therapy but this only served to reopen former wounds. Without an outlet, she ended up perpetually revisiting her past, becoming more disillusioned as the agony continued to augment. She was aware that she had to find a channel for her anguish and, when a neighbor suggested religion as a crutch, she figured there was nothing to lose in giving it a try. Her mother had been an atheist and she had never before considered this as being an answer but threw herself into it whole-heartedly as prayer became a most therapeutic manner in which to face up to what she was feeling inside. God became the one shoulder she could cry upon and never appeared to judge her for her past indiscretions. She considered being molested by her stepfather as one such gaffe on her part and found forgiveness in both the old and new testament.
Corinthians 10:13 – No temptation has overtaken you that is not common to man. God is faithful, and he will not let you be tempted beyond your ability, but with the temptation he will also provide the way of escape, that you may be able to endure it.
It had now been almost a decade since her last intimate encounter and it had started to become unbearable. She had questioned her faith on a number of occasions but this was all she knew now. Even her memories of William were fading, the nights they would lay naked and explore every inch of another as time appeared simply to stop. For years those recollections were burned into her mind, though she divulged to nobody else, and never once acted on the impulse to release her pent-up feelings. She had become overcome with self-condemnation for disobeying God so surreptitiously and knew that there were no secrets when all was said as done. If that meant ultimate judgement then she was prepared to take that chance as she knew the purity of their love, even though her bodily urges were anything but. If God really was as forgiving as the good book stated then he would turn a blind eye to such trivial indiscretions and see the larger picture.
Tonight was William’s birthday. Matilda dreaded this day more than any other as the feelings invariably came rushing back, and every time her heart broke, it felt the same as the very first time. Recently she had grown disparaged by the church after Grace, the sister that first took her in, passed away from the same affliction that took her mother. She adored Grace and it seemed cruel that she suffered for a period of three months before she was granted release and, for the first time since taking her vows, alarms were raised as to whether the master she served so obediently even cared. This was her day to remember, their day to cherish together, a potent reminder of how things could have turned out if death had not separated them. She placed her crucifix down on her dresser, sat in brief and quiet prayer, and asked for forgiveness for the sin she was about to commit.
Truly, Clearly, Really, Sincerely,
Keeper of the Crimson Quill
Copyright: Crimson Quill: Savage Vault Enterprises 2014