I want to kiss her lips. I want to feel her breasts and squeeze them. I want to suck her nipples. The throbbing begins. Dare I go through with this? I want to, but what if she wakes? The combination of fear and excitement is arousing. I masturbate faster. The throbbing intensifies, and my heart thumps harder. Dare I? Too late now, I’m cumming! At last! Several thick spurts splash across her breasts. I panic and look at her face. No reaction. I feel elated. I’ve done it! I’ve finally found the courage to do it, and I feel great! I take a few moments to admire my handy work as I enjoy the feeling, then I take the wet wipes and tissues from my pocket and begin to clean up my mess, ever so gently. Still, she doesn’t stir. The next morning, I’m on tenterhooks, alert for the slightest hint that she knows what I’ve done, but there’s nothing. The relief is immense, and I know I must do it again. It quickly becomes a nightly event, and after a couple of weeks I progress to. I didn't want them to be harmed. I wanted to prevail over that shadowy thing that attacked them.I couldn't be weak. I couldn't be pampered. I couldn't afford to flee from pain. I wasn't a spoiled princess any longer. I fled that life. I chose to be an outlaw. A bandit like Sven. I had to give it my all. I had to be strong. For myself. For those I loved.For Greta. I led her into this. She would pay for my mistakes if this didn't work out. If Sven...No, Sven wasn't dead. He would prevail. I just needed to reach my proxy. My teeth ground together.Sweat poured down my brow.The pressure on my skull increased, squeezing down on my brain. It felt on the verge of rupturing. My spiritual fingers brushed my proxy with Sven. I felt the shape of it. I almost could pour into it. I just needed to try harder.My horse neighed.My hands clenched on the saddle horn.“Come on,” I groaned, fighting off another wave of nausea. “Just...”Hot agony stabbed into my brain as I forced my soul towards my proxy. I.
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