Injecting object

[Submissive Sunday] “The needle, so needed. The fluid, water of life. Not stopping my illness progressing, but slowing down relapses. MS, as always having more than one meaning, one more way of living it.”

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Injection needle, fridge. Taking out another pre-filled syringe to ward of future multiple sclerosis relapses.

To others? A scary thing, a daily habit they could not fathom.

To me? Now, the fluid of my life. For my life.

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