In a couple of days’ time, I will visit Mistress again.
I cannot tell you what this does to my mind. I adore Mistress, I adore beyond all reason and beyond all doubt.
But I also adore Mistress as a human being, with her own hopes and fears and desires and needs. I have absolute an utter respect for her.
I know at this stage that this weekend’s visit may not take place. Things happen. Real Life steps in. And yet I have such hope, such a vainglorious hope that I will have the opportunity to submit to Mistress physically and in person.
Please make no mistake, I know how lucky I am. There are myriads, I know, who both balk at it and crave it at the same time.
And yet I am one of the lucky lucky few who get to meet Mistress in person. It is, quite literally, mind blowing.
How many get to meet their Mistress? I do not know.
How many get to greet their Mistress in humility and with appropriate generosity>? I do not know.
How many only dream of such a moment, when Mistress appears and is more wonderful in reality than any fantasy can predict? I do not know.
And yet I do know.
If I were someone other, reading this, I would be in tears right now. I would be wondering how on earth this person writing got to be so lucky as to be able to meet the most wonderful Mistress in the world.
But I am not reading. I am writing. I cannot explain how things have come to pass. All can do is be so so grateful to Mistress. She is, in truth, the most wonderful person ever.
And so how can I make her happy? How can my submission, in whatever form, give her pleasure? The straight answer is that I do not know. There is so much I do not know. Yet it would seem as if my submission does give her some pleasure. I hope so oh so much.
And anything she wishes to dish out, anything she wishes to do, anything she wishes to visit upon me, I will do absolutely anything to try to make her happy.
That is all.