It’s funny how as the visit gets closer I miss you more. It’s that feeling of being on a long line and you’re finally next.
Seems like the weather is always against us yet we manage to get through it.
I’m mushy and I have no energy. The cunt brain of last weekend is gone, replaced by a silly slave girl that just wants to sit in her Sirs lap and cry. Not sad tears, but tears of relief.
The relief coming from the fact I made it through all the things that happened since your last visit without falling too far backwards. I did that because of you. Not because of my fear of dissapointing you as much as my need to show you that your support makes a difference.
Office stuff to do.
Slave Stories for My Sir 