More than anything else in life, they desire pleasure. It fuels their every action, driving them to do impossible things for the purpose of gaining it. Even when they don't realize it, pleasure is what motivates them, deep, deep down in their minds. Every aspect of their life is touched by it.
And yet, I see them whittle away their lives actively trying to repress it. Though they let it control them, they work to keep it hidden away, never speaking of it or taking part in it during their normal lives. Some break this convention, and all constantly have pleasure on their minds, but for the majority, they cut down what they could do, what they could be.
I do not understand this. Pleasure shapes me more than it does them, so my perspective may be somewhat clouded. But to shy away from an integral part of what they are seems to my eyes madness. Creatures driven by pleasure should experience it whenever they can.
So I help them. I can see into the deepest recesses of their minds, and instinctively tell what would bring them the greatest pleasure in their whole lives. And then I am that thing, ready and willing to help them escape their self-imposed bonds and to truly live. Those who answer my call are rewarded. All who see me answer my call.
You have no idea what it's like, being the thing to please another. I have been large and small, male, female, and in-between. I have been beautiful, plain, and ugly, and yet remained the absolute best thing in all of existence to the one I save. Sometimes it's sensual; sometimes it's romantic; many times it's erotic. But at all times, it is what they want. No, more than that. It is always what they need.
I feel the act regardless of whether or not we are together. It always culminates in the act, but some chose to not bring themselves into my presence; rather, they pleasure themselves to a representation of me. But even without the thrusting and grunting, I still feel the immense satisfaction of helping another escape their self-inflicted bonds, and become what they were truly meant to be.
It is the feeling of being truly and properly alive.
But once we are finished, it must happen. As is always the case with pleasure, it must be associated with pain.
It is another thing I do not understand about them. Though they lock away their pleasure, they also lock away their pain. Reflection has taught me that they think of it as a harmful thing, something to be actively avoided. They cannot see that it is a necessary counterpart to pleasure. If they do not want to live in pleasure, and they do not want to live in pain, then what do they want to live in? I simply cannot answer.
However, I can help. As with the pleasure, the pain is not something I choose to do; it is simply something I cause to happen. Torment and suffering unlike any other they have ever experienced overwhelms them, and they fall to the floor, gasping and shrieking in agony. On rare occasions, it has occurred to me to help them, but then I realize I would be taking away from the proper experience. Men and women alike beg to be saved, and men and women alike die.
I regret none of this. By showing those who have spent their whole lives in a haze of nothingness the ultimate pleasure and the ultimate pain one after another, I help them live as I do. It is only for a moment, but is a moment of perfect understanding not enough? Does that not allow one to be connected with all those around them before passing on, having finally seen the light? Is this not the way things should be?
Such is my lot in life. I bring pleasure, and I bring pain. Once, long, long ago, I regretted it; manipulating one only to take their life seemed to me a horrid, ugly thing. But now, after who knows how much time, I see that it is the way things are to be. So I accept it. I wait in this dark cell, waiting for whoever comes to me next.
And then I deliver them into the light.