"That you let me help you."

In what must've been a last futile act of resistance, she clenched her hands, balling them into fists. She clenched her eyes shut and clenched her teeth together. It was no use. Her hand outstreched itself and her eyes opened, tearing up in feelings she had tried to leave behind. Feelings that were consuming her in an act of **** for being abandoned.

But he offered help. The only thing to do was to take it. After all, no matter how much she didn't want to, it was the reasonable thing to do, right? So she took his hand. Jehnova saw as in spite of the tears starting to roll down Kaguya Fortuna's cheeks, she held his hand firmly, like she would never let go.

Journal 10/16/2061: This entry will have be a mental one, for the events that occurred today are simply too embarrassing for me to put into writing. I don't even believe it worth even considering the less shameful pieces of the day. As Jehnova holds me close and leads to the school infirmary, I can't help but be angry. Angry at myself, for being so weak as to nearly fall to my basal urges. Angry at myself for not leaving such savagary behind. Angry at whatever **** dug those primal needs up from within my subconcious. Angry at myself for the fact that no matter how much my blood boils with rage, it is nothing compared to the comfort and joy radiating from within my soul.

If I knew how this meeting with Jehnova was going to turn out, I never would have went through with the plan. The plan. It meant nothing, did it? I was so naively hoping for an exchange of wits, a battle of minds I've never truly experienced before. The only thing I exchanged was the sweat and heat from my palm to his. How did it even start? I was looking at the animation he had apparently designed, and then... then... something tells me the sensation that has washed over me will remain with me in some fashion for a very, very long time.

Both my body and mind shut down for a split-second, unable to proccess the spontaneous burst of need. And when I came to, every coherent thought I had felt like I was trying to converse with someone over a speaker blaring above. But instead of music, it was like my instincts were screaming at me. Screaming with a shrill voice I hadn't heard in years. The voice of Lust. Pure, carnal lust. The first and only other time I experienced such a thing was well over a decade ago, when I was going through puberty. And back then, I found it to be annoying moreso than tantilizing. A waste of my time to indulge. So I ignored it, continued with my studies, and it went away, never to return. Until now.

This was far stronger than any mere hormone inbalance. From what little I can still recollect from those times, that prior experience was but a diluted shadow of the pure, primitive, unstoppable torrent of desperation I was subjected to merely minutes ago. I could feel my temperature rise and my palms grow moist with sweat. I could feel my... private areas grow moist with what was definitely not sweat. It was like every nerve in my body got their own shot of adrenaline.

I could feel everything. The sound of my heart beating like it was trying to leave my chest. The sound of my breathing, which had gotten so heavy, I had to control it to not appear like an asthma attack. The feeling of the blood rushing up to my face, and down into my nethers. The ringing in my ears and blurring in my eyes as I lost any ability to percieve what that poor, unaware man wanted to show me. Every little twitch and convulsion in my burning body. I know beyond the slightest doubt that those sensations will forever engrave themselves within me. I will never forget the heightened awareness of every little thing I felt, and as much as I want to be disgusted by it, my body simply can't help itself but to crave for more.

Were I even the slightest bit less disiplined, I wouldn't have recovered nearly as quickly as I did. Still, it was futile, since apparently, those strange glasses do not cover vision like one would expect. Jehnova, despite my best efforts to appear unfazed, noticed my condition, unknowing of the true underlining issue. He mistook it for a mere fever. Oh, how I wish he was right. He turned off the glasses and gently placed his hand on my forehead. I must've not thought he cared so much about my health, or perhaps not known the proper protocol for such a scenario? I can't figure it out through this blinding storm of desire.

...So many years of being shoved deep into the recesses of my mind must've made those urges forget why they were there. Tis the only explanation for why, when that oblivious fool touched me with those calloused hands of his, I felt everything... click into place. Every muscle in my body, especially those near my now-damp panties, tensed and coiled like they were preparing for something I'd very much rather not envision. I could feel every symptom get so much worse than I thought was possible. The voice in my head went from incoherent screeching to a rallying cry that pointed in exactly one direction; to him. To Jehnova, the janitor. I'm certain, if he knew how much my very being was begging to jump on him and do... something, he would have been disgusted. He would not be taking me so gently and carefully in his arms to somewhere to rest.

It's odd isn't it? How much the simple act of checking my temperature made me... melt, for lack of a better word. I looked like a delirious fool, I'm sure. I assume the urges were satisfied by the gesture, if only for now. I could feel the composure leave my body, seeping out into my already wet enough panties. I knew it would be dangerous to let it continue for even a millisecond longer, but... it just... it felt so good. I know it's the lust talking, I know it's all just chemicals in my brain, but... I've never felt such euphoria before. Such satisfaction. It took so much out of me just to snap back to reality and take his hand off of me.

That was when I finally realized in full what was happening. That was when the fear set in. Fear of what was happening to me. Fear of what I would do if I stopped holding back. Fear of what would happen if he found out. If anyone found out. If Father found out. As I imagined how every aspect of my life would crumble, I also had some... fantasies. It sickens me how vividly I was able to imagine all the twisted things I might've done to cause such a fallout. When my hand moved itself towards my throbbing crotch, I knew I had to get out as soon as possible.

I tried. I tried my hardest to escape while I had the chance, but... my legs just wouldn't move. They just wouldn't listen to me. I tried to stop Jehnova from helping me. I guess the combination of immense desire and immense terror was showing itself. The symptoms overlap a bit, I suppose. I **** myself to stand, but even something so simple was so utterly draining. I should've known such a pathetic diplay wouldn't fool him. He got closer, too close, dangerously close. My mind wanted to back away, to run, to get out before something happened. My body wanted to lunge forward, to grab him and never let go. The result; I fell backwards, flat onto my behind.

I didn't even have to look up to see that Jehnova was standing above me, my weakness in full view. I felt tears welling up within my eyes. And yet, he didn't laugh, or scowl in disgust, or anything of the sort. Instead, he offered help. He offered his hand to me. I don't understand. Why? Why isn't he disappointed? Why isn't he disgusted? I hear how everyone talks of me. I hear the gossip, the rumors, the unending praise from every direction. They all see me like royalty, a being far above them in every way. Even this man, the janitor, knew my name, my face. The janitor insists that our meetings are only a waste of my time. And yet, he sees the Moon Princess in such a shameful position, and he doesn't give so much as a judgemental glare? Instead of revulsion, he offers concern and assistance?