Nova Blush

Thinking of You instagram | bluesky | patreon

Roses of Fire: The Purity That Burns Entire

The lives of certain women burn with an intensity that escapes moral judgement. They were called pure, but their purity was not absence of stain, nor the careful avoidance of desire. It was the fire of a total offering. In Rose of Lima, Thérèse of Lisieux, Mary Magdalene de Pazzi, and Catherine of Siena, the Divine seized the body without erasing its contradictions. They became vessels of paradox. Their holiness was an eruption of Heaven into clay. Their flesh trembled with wounds, fevers, tears, ecstasies; but, in this trembling, a new order was revealed. Their sanctity was the transformation of the banal into the luminous. This is why they remain as Roses of fire. They remind that the Mystery occurs in the friction of opposites, the paradox where the earthly and the heavenly meet.

More at The Mirror of Sienna.

no. not like that. properly. back straight. hands in your lap where i can see them.

there you go.

now spread your legs.

wider.

good girl.

i can see the outline of you from here. and i want a better look than that. pull your pants down for me.

go ahead. don't be shy about it now.

watching you hesitate. watching you do it anyway.

"good girl." cooed encouragingly at you. "now show me."

watching how flustered you get

"i said show me. pull them to the side. let me see."

watching you comply. slowly. hands shaking slightly.

staying quiet for a moment. looking. taking my time. letting you sit with being looked at.

"look at this." so soft. unbothered. "you're already soaked through…you've been like this for a while, haven't you? sitting there trying to hold it together while your body tells on you."

watching you try to close your legs slightly.

"don't." said certain. "keep them open. i'm not done looking."

watching you go still. watching something in you surrender to being seen.

"you wore those ones on purpose, didn't you? some part of you was hoping someone would look close enough to notice. hoping someone would finally just. see you."

i see you.

"so pretty." meaning it completely. still not touching. just looking. "you have no idea how pretty you look right now do you…?”

watching your face change at that. softening.

"okay..." finally. "go ahead. touch yourself. show me what you do when you're alone. show me what you've been doing all this time thinking it was enough."

watching you.

no. not like that.

slower. and lower. not there.

that's what i thought.

you don't actually know what you're doing.. do you? you've been guessing this whole time. trying things. hoping something lands. settling for whatever you could get because you didn't know it could feel different. didn't know you've been shortchanging yourself every single time you've tried to do this alone.

"i know what i'm doing—"

do you?

silence.

"it feels fine when i do it i just—"

fine..?

watching that land on your face.

"i mean it feels good i just—"

just what?

a longer pause. hands going still. face going warm.

"it doesn't feel like i think it should." stopping. "i don't think i'm doing it right."

say that again. properly.

swallowing hard. "i don't know what i'm doing." barely audible.

louder. i want to hear you say it.

"i don't know what i'm doing." voice cracking slightly. something in your expression shifting the second you admit it. that relief that comes from saying out loud the thing you've been carrying quietly for too long.

and?

"and i need help..." so quiet. "please. i've been trying and it never feels the way i think it should and i don't know what i'm missing please—"

good girl. that's all you had to do. just say so.

come here.

taking your hand in mine first. holding it for just a second. feeling you breathe.

then guiding it. slowly. deliberately. exactly where it needs to be.

feel the difference?

the sound you make is immediate. involuntary. hips shifting forward before your brain has caught up with what's happening.

"oh—" barely a word. "oh that's so much better why is that so much better—"

because you've been doing it wrong this whole time and your body has been waiting for someone to show you. you thought that was just how it felt. you didn't know there was more. you didn't know you deserved more.

keep going. nice and slow. don't rush.

watching you find it properly. watching your hips start to move in small barely there rolls. watching your breathing get shallow.

you're doing so well. look at you. already.

"it feels so good." almost surprised by your own voice. "please don't make me stop please i just need a little more please—"

two minutes.

"what—"

that's what you get. two minutes. make them count.

watching you decide to take it seriously. hips moving more deliberately. hand working steadier. chasing it properly for the first time. getting closer faster than you expected.

then my hand closing around your wrist.

stopping you.

"no—" immediate. desperate. "no please i was right there please please i need—"

that's all you get sweetheart.

"please." begging now. everything gone. all of it. "please i'll be so good please i was so close please daddy please just a little longer please—"

no.

watching your hips shift forward instinctively. looking for something. finding your own fingers still right there and starting to grind against them before you've even chosen to.

"it's not enough—" frustrated. tearful. "please it's not enough i can't get there like this please—"

you can. keep going. show me.

watching you work yourself against your own hand. grinding slow at first and then faster when you realize it might actually work. hips rolling. thighs pressing together. sounds unguarded now. nothing held back. nothing left to hold back.

"please can i cum— please i need to— please daddy please..?”

look at you. two minutes and my voice and you're right there completely falling apart. think about what that means. think about what that says.

"please—" not even processing anymore. too far gone. "please please please—"

yes. go ahead. you earned it.

falling apart completely. grinding hard against your fingers, thighs shaking, that moan you let out when you finally get there after being made to wait for it. riding every wave of it until there's nothing left.

staying quiet while you come back down.

waiting until when your breathing finds its way back. when you remember where you are and what you just did.

you're going to think about this every single time you touch yourself from now on. every single time. and it still won't feel the same as when i'm the one telling you exactly what to do.

and you know that now.