Today has been an enormously hard day; my thoughts have pondered back to the events of last night, to the moments when I was exposed and unable to retract myself, withdrawing from the embarrassment of my predicament. The depth of erotic emotions that have plagued me this day are beyond my humble reckoning and I can not place why it is that this has so subdued my body and soul, enrapturing me and capturing my very essence; thus, dominating my every thought today, and even forcing my will against what I know to be right.
As I awoke in the bedchamber, I first penned you the letter, and sent by private currier to your chambers; but then I found that I could only lay prostrated in my bed, with the silken sheets beneath me, kissing my naked flesh, and without any covering over my naked self; and so, I remained resting, unconcealed. It was as if in that position, I expected to have that burning feeling on my flesh, or the cold rebounding sensations that were implied after. Yet it never came, though in my mind, it was so vividly real that my flesh heated, I began to sweat, and could not resist myself in the passion.
I bathed twice today, first when I got up, and then I washed again in the scented waters, allowing the hand servants to rub my skin till it was smoother than ever, and took the delicate time to scent my hair and flesh. I donned only the most elegant and intricate of my dresses, one with purple hues as undertones and subtle and dainty woven laces overtop; the top was lower cut, and in the back it was straight and clean. My ladies stated plainly that it was an elegant choice, and that it enhanced my fronts natural pleasure to the eyes. I even allowed a Lily to be placed within my hair, something that I had never allowed since I was but a child at my home.
It was often during the day that I would pause, for everything I looked at seemed to take on some form of an erotic sense, or some passionate connotations that I could not comprehend and still do not understand. How is it Lancelot that these things, wrack me so, when it was a mere third of an hour, with a man who bound me, beat me, and then released me; and still I know not who or what he is! I can not pass a moment without his thoughts permeating my flesh, or his will insisting itself upon my mind, or his touch caressing my flesh; and still he is not here before me or near to me.
The clouds of heaven seemed to mock my tortures today, as they displayed some of the most lustful passions, some of which I have never even dreamed of; the very heavens mock my tortured hearts lustful fervor. The trees smelled of his scent, and I nearly lolled my head, even in the presence of the mighty Arthur himself! Please Lancelot, I need your help. Arthur has requested my presence tonight at the table, and I know that I will be there; until the time that I must arrive at that precious juncture and enter that room. I do not know why I am so compelled to complete this promise, but the very thought of being in that room is intoxicating and I swoon at the notion on laying on that bed, and to even ponder the sting again on my flesh causes an unbearable heat to well within me, and I am exhausted in the deaths of my passions. I have taken myself today on two occasions and am surprised at the velocity at which I complete and then I remain there laying, heaving my breaths, wishing that it was not me, but him…
What is it that I shall do Lancelot?
With Pleading and Sincerity,
Guinevere
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