Training and connection
Wed 28 December
Excitement as I board the plane in China. In twelve hours I’ll again meet my Queen, in Bangkok, for a longer time. We will be together for six weeks.
She had invited me to accept her training, to take me further along the path towards total submission and slavery. It would be a trial period, for her and for me, to see if we were compatible. Towards the end of the period we would decide, individually. If all went well she would invite me to become her permanent slave, to give myself to her for the rest of my life, to serve her in every way from morning to night, to accept her punishments without reservation. She would accept me and care for me as her personal slave, her fully owned property.
I’ve had a heavy cold for the last few days. As we begin our descent to Guangzhou my ears start to hurt. I try to clear them in the usual way. They won’t clear. The pain becomes intense. It eases a little after landing. I transfer to my Bangkok flight. A short time later, even more pain as we descend. I pass through Immigration, pick up my bags, and head for the exit. My ears are totally blocked, they hurt, and I feel nauseous. I am a little dizzy. I find a taxi and soon after I’m knocking on the door of her apartment.
She appears, and, as before, I am stunned by her beauty. She is dressed simply, in shorts and t-shirt. I fall on my knees: “Hello my Queen”. “Hello David. Up; come in.”
We chat for a while. I am unwell but delighted to see her again. She also is happy and excited.
We go to a restaurant. I cannot eat more than a mouthful. We chat, have a beer. Even the beer doesn’t taste good. We return, I take a shower. She orders me to put my uniform on, the dress and stockings. She is pleased by the sight of me. Feminized. Soon after, she tells me it’s time for sleep. She directs me to the couch, she goes to the bed. I spend an uncomfortable night, but I’m very happy to be with her in the same room.
Thursday 29 December
In the morning she orders me to put my other dress on, the qipao. And a silk scarf for a collar. The day is spent in organizing arrangements, finances, food; everyday matters. Knowing that I’m unwell she refrains from punishments. She is frustrated but patient with me. She encourages me to get well quickly, reminding me that I must be strong and healthy to receive her training. We go shopping for food. I must wear my collar with my street clothes. I am embarrassed, but nobody seems to notice. Back in the apartment I bring her water, clean up after her, serve her in every way that I think of.
She has written a contract. It sets out the terms of this trial period. It is highly detailed, and informs me of my many responsibilities to her, and of her commitment to me. She tells me to edit it. Soon we will sign it. It is our commitment for these six weeks.
Tonight she invites me to share the bed. I am very grateful. I keep well to the edge of the bed, to give her as much space and privacy as possible.
Friday 30 December
I’m still unwell. After my shower, she puts the heavy collar on me. She pulls it very tight, and buckles it. It strangles me. I feel close to passing out. She sighs with pleasure. She releases, and buckles it so that it is close but not strangling me. She closes a padlock on it. “I can easily strangle you with this collar; it’s great!” “Yes, my Queen.” She puts the wrist restraints on, and locks them. There is no possibility of escape. She holds the keys. I don’t even know where they are.
We prepare to go out again. She tells me that she won’t unlock me. But she wraps small scarves around my wrists, and around my neck. The scarves cover my leather restraints. We leave. I am extremely self conscious. I want there to be no people on the streets. I don’t want to be seen. But I must deal with banking staff, taxi driver, hotel staff. I am exposed. Emotionally fraught. This is difficult, very confronting. But everyone is perfectly polite, and seem not to notice the strangeness of this foreigner. I am somewhat relieved.
We eventually return to the apartment. I am exhausted, still far from well. We order room service, and enjoy a good meal. My appetite is returning. We drink some sparkling wine that she bought earlier. She works on her computer, I check emails and news.
She goes to her bed, working on her phone. After a while I notice that she is nearly asleep. “My Queen, can I sleep with my collar off?” “No.” She sleeps. So I must bear this heavy collar the whole night. It hurts my throat. I toss and turn, and get little sleep.