Saturday 31 December
I have many complex feelings. I love her as my Queen. I know she loves me, as her slave. I have received no punishments yet. She wants to whip me, stretch me with her ropes, tie me in horribly uncomfortable positions. Once I am fully well she will inflict much pain. I don’t know how much of this I can bear. I am committed to her for these six weeks. I have to accept everything. If it goes well, she will express her desire to keep me as her permanent slave. I don’t know if I will be able to agree to it. Can I give up my freedom, my whole life? Can I accept the life of a real slave? I don’t know yet, but I hope it will become clearer over time. One thing is certain: if we reach the point of decision, it will be the biggest decision of my whole life, barring none.
We go shopping in the evening. She is happy, strolling, smiling, and laughing from time to time. We buy some food supplies; she has said that she will cook tonight! And sparkling wine. It’s New Years Eve. Last year she was alone in a hotel. She is happy that we are together at this special time.
We have a happy time, eating, drinking, talking, laughing. A wonderful way to celebrate the coming year, which is probably going to be unimaginably different from all previous years.
Sunday 1 January
We spend the day in our room, doing very little. She sleeps, I rest. I am still far from well. It is good to relax.
Monday 2 January
She is quite busy today. She gives me some simple instructions about her schedule. I tidy the room then go outfor coffee and a walk around the neighbourhood. I will be away for a few hours. I have little energy so I come back to the hotel and stretch out on one of the couches near the pool. I doze. I get a message on the phone. I go to the room and see that she looks displeased. She points out that I didn’t follow her instructions exactly. She said“I told you that my private time is 10.00 till 11.00, and that I have a session 12.00 till 1.30.” “Yes my Queen.” “I expected you to come back just after 11.00.” “Oh. Sorry my Queen. I didn’t realize that I should come back for that short time.” I feel foolish and realize more that her orders are real orders. They are to be obeyed precisely. She tells me to strip and face the wall. She doesn’t move from the couch, just fires the whip at my back from where she sits. It hurts, but not severely. Ten strokes and she is finished. I go the the bathroom and see a couple of stripes. It was a light and brief whipping. My Queen has shown mercy because of my illness. However she has assured me that she will whip me long and hard when I am well again. I both dread it, and welcome it, because this is one of her greatest pleasures.
She has a session booked for 5.00. Beforehand she informs me that I am to go downstairs, meet the client in the lobby, and bring him up to the room. She describes his appearance. As usual I have my collar and restraints on, locked in place. I feel uncomfortable for two reasons. One, I am to meet a client face to face; slave meetssub. Two, I will again be in public. I am always embarrassed as I feel that my slave things attract attention. But I have no choice so at 4.50 I go down and wait. The client comes in at 5.05. I nod to him and beckon him to follow me. He says “How you going?” “Ok.” I take him up to the door, knock, and leave him there. I go to the pool to rest and relax on the couch. After an hour and a half my phone pings; I am to return. She says what we will do this evening: get some dinner then get her tongue pierced.
She had decided this a while ago. I don’t like the idea of my Queen experiencing pain for any reason, but she is lighthearted about it, and after doing some research I realize that it is one of the easiest piercings. We take a taxi to a place she knows, get some dinner, and eat and relax among the noisy crowd. Then to the piercing shop. She sits in the chair, smiling all the time, while the piercer prepares his equipment. He seems like a professional. The moment comes, he holds her tongue with some pincers, and the needle slides through. She doesn’t wince, doesn’t seem to notice it. He quickly finishes it off with a tiny barbell, and it’s done. We leave the shop, she smiling as usual. We get a taxi and head back to the hotel. She is happy and chatty. I and glad she’s happy with her piercing.
She is giving me real training. Everything I do is training. Serving her meals, cooking, making coffee, keeping the room tidy, accompanying her wherever she wants to go, wearing whatever she tells me to wear, day and night; all is training. Sometimes it is difficult, but that discomfort is balanced by the influence of her great beauty, by her care for me, and by her intelligence. I am privileged to be serving this great Queen.
Read some experiences here: