The days are ticking away until I can depart for Scotland to join Mistress Jules. There is work on my end that needs wrapping up before the trip, which has stretched my hours and pushed start times earlier than normal. Lately, though, I’ve been dealing with some minor issues from the JB—mostly sleep disturbances—and I’m not entirely certain of the cause; it might need to be sent back for repair. That can wait until after I return.
Last night, I asked Mistress Jules if she would mind me unlocking for a bit. As soon as my question was processed, her reply came through: “Yes, you may unlock yourself until morning.”
I wouldn’t claim to fully grasp what’s going on in Mistress Jules’ head or predict her next move with certainty. But one thing is clear: that request went by far too smoothly. Now that I have my wish, regret has already set in.
I just know she’ll make me pay for this little night of comfort; the only question is how much and when.
With only a few days left before I see her again, I’m facing an extra layer of torture from within—my own mind. We are often our greatest enemies. I fear I’ll drive myself mad overanalyzing what might happen versus what won’t.
They say the anticipation is often sharper than the reality itself. And these two have not yet met Mistress Jules.