I was ready. Ready to face my submissive feelings, ready to meet a Mistress for the very fist time. But how should I greet Her? I couldn’t say: hello darling, what’s up, could I? Drooling all over Her cheeks also didn’t feel right. I mean, She was a Lady, not a stamp. Pumping Her arm up and down in a meaningless handshake? I just didn’t know and I worried a lot about it. But as She opened the door my instincts set in and I kissed Her hand. Like a gentleman would do. It was that simple. Now, archaeologists have discovered inscriptions on the walls of Pompeii (smothered in lava in 79 AD). One of them says: He who has never been in love can be no gentleman. If we take that as an inspiration for this post, then I would say: He who’s not a gentleman can be no slave. Because you’ll never reach the summit of submission without being considerate, courteous, respectful and well-mannered. Kiss the hand that guides you and take it from there. That’s all there is to it.
I sat outside the airport for several hours, waiting for the Mistress to pick me up. Just before noun a text message came in, telling me to take a cab to the park nearby Her house and wait for Her there. I’d been there before so I went straight to the small building on the edge of the park to seek shelter from the rain. It didn’t take long for the cold to set in, so I started walking up and down the park instead, in a useless attempt to stay warm. It was 02:30 by now, I was soaking wet, hungry and cold, and yet I was in the very best of moods. Because a slave has to be patient, patient and even more patient. Patience is essential to be able to enjoy your life in servitude to its fullest. Only Mistress decides when it’s time to work, to suffer, to come and to go. Just as She decides when it’s time to wait. On that particular day the Mistress arrived in beams of sunlight at half past five in the afternoon. It was all worth waiting for.