The Ache

My muscles ache. All the walking and squats have been paying off and I feel stronger, fitter, happier about my body. I love that dull ache that comes with sore stiff muscles. It reminds me that I have worked hard, that I pushed my body and made it do more. It feels a bit like when he has beaten me. Then too my body has been pushed, made to work hard and hopefully, often, I have the marks to show for it. That ache of a bruise and the ache of well worked muscles are very similar things not only in the way they feel but in how I feel about them. To me they are rewards and I welcome their constant reminder of what this body of mine can do. One of them a marker of using my body to move and the other a mark of him using my body.

In the shower I let the hot water soothe the ache. Where he has beaten me the skin is sore and sensitive and stings when the heat touches it. A shiver runs up my spine and my nipples tighten at the sensation and I push back into the flow of water welcoming this reminder of what he did to me. The muscles in my thighs and hips join the ones in my buttocks as the heat works it magic to help them relax just a little after I have used them so. It feels good to hurt like this and I wallow in the sensation of well used muscles. Some of them used by me and some of the used by him.

Afterward when I am dry I look in the mirror. Twisting and turn to try to see the marks he has left behind. I prod and poke at the bruises making them ache all over again and then I do the same to the muscles in my thighs. At the moment the ones just above my knees are sore and tender and I dig my fingers into them and savour the sensation of them complaining beneath my touch.

Tomorrow there will be more. I will walk through the stiffness until they are warm and supple and carry me forward with power and ease and maybe in the days to come there will be more from him and the two can merge and mingle into a dull ache that makes me want to touch myself.