Today has not been a good day. I spent all of the night awake, listening to the deep thunder of a summer storm, watching the lightning lash down and feeling the darkness of the rain as I stumbled around trying to find a torch.
Who would have thought a solar powered torch would work at night?
I have been doing lots of thinking. Sometimes it is a curse, but sometimes it is essential.
I did not write to Mistress this morning. Basically, I just failed to wake up in time. I am absolutely and utterly gutted. I write to her every morning. I need to tell her what a wonderful person she is because, get this, she doesn’t believe it. Even now, over a year later, she does not accept that she is the most intelligent and talented and special person I have ever known. I mean, can you believe it? I am no fool. I am not blinkered. You may disagree. I hear your howls of disapproval. But I am trained in logic, I am not just a random male who has been swamped with emotion and love for a female.
Mistress is a person, real in the world. She exists as you or I do. And yet she is so special. There is not room here to tell you how special she is, as a person, as a human being , as an individual. You just have to take my word. I know you won’t, but at least I made the offer.
So, week 7 of lockdown. I cannot tell you how special I feel. That Mistress allows me to do this, trusts me to do this. The world has shifted on a penny. I am chaste. I am locked. That is it. And I love it. I would not be any other way. How my world has changed, and long may it continue.