The anxiety I felt in the run-up to Sunday's meeting with Master was phenomenal. It was a nervous, positive energy, focused on my Master; and in the week running up to it, at every idle moment my thoughts had been feverishly directed themselves towards what I would have to do for him. I had totally misinterpreted the hints about hard labour, not helped by CPHslaveboi throwing in his own fantasy-tinged suggestions. I was facing having to earn back my collared status, and Master certainly made me feel to my core what it is like to . . .
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