Saint Agatha (shallnotmove) wrote in nevermore_logs, @ 2013-04-03 18:36:00 |
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Entry tags: | saint agatha |
WHO: Agatha [narrative]
WHEN: 15th February
WHERE: Agatha's apartment
WHAT: The aftermath of a Lust attack
WARNINGS: talk of sexual assault, talk of self-imposed starvation
When Agatha got home to her apartment, she locked the door behind her and called out for Judas. When she was greeted with only silence she let out a sob of relief and sat down on the floor where she'd been standing. Her legs felt weak and her body and spirit felt violated. Lust had...
Agatha couldn't stand even think about it, but she couldn't stop thinking about it. Another wave of revulsion passed over her and she stumbled to her feet, running for the bathroom and dropping to her knees in front of the toilet so that she could throw up.
Lust had barely even touched her, but it turned out she hadn't needed to. She'd forced Agatha to feel things she wasn't supposed to feel. Agatha wasn't a complete stranger to the ideas of sex and attraction. She was a saint and a virgin martyr, but those were choices. She was still a human woman, with a human body and human drives. She felt these things, she just didn't act on them.
But Lust had forced her to act on them. With just a touch of her hand and a smirk, the Sin had brought Agatha to her knees with a wave of physical pleasure so intense that Agatha had thought it would rip her apart. And at the time she'd screamed no, stop as well as please more.
She'd begged for more. She'd arched and writhed on the floor of Lust's bedroom and whimpered with desire and horror.
Even now, as her stomach heaved, she could feel that orgasm lingering. She hadn't wanted it! God would understand that, wouldn't it? That it had been forced upon her?
But... she was inviolable. Agatha knew this much. Men had tried to force her before and they had failed, because God had made her a thing that couldn't be touched without her consent. For someone to take her virginity, Agatha knew she had to offer it.
But Lust had taken that purity, hadn't she? So... had God allowed it? The idea was too horrible and Agatha bowed her head against the toilet seat, crying. Had she failed in her piety? Or had God simply stopped caring what happened to her?
She wanted someone to look after her so badly then, but who would she ever tell about this? It was too shameful and no one would understand. Judas? He wouldn't see what the big deal was. David? No, David was too good and she couldn't let him know she'd failed herself like this. The others? They sinned all the time in a myriad of ways and didn't really care. She had been one of the only ones left in this city who still held strong to the old ways, to her original faith. She was still that same girl from Sicily. (That same made up story, she reminded herself angrily. You never were a real girl, just a parable of virtue and now you're not even that any more.)
If Judas came home that night, he wouldn't have seen Agatha. She locked herself in her room for the next two days in prayer and fasting, denying her body everything she could because she'd failed to keep it secure.
Eventually she would leave her room and go to her work at the hospital, but the only thing she could think of now was denial. The pleasures of the world in all forms had to be shunned because they all reminded her of Lust, because she had failed herself and everyone who believed in her.
For the next weeks she would remain in a state of semi-starvation and seclusion, seeing people only when she worked, and eating only when she became too weak to do that anymore.