On my way to the home of Mr. X, feeling nervous and somewhat indecisive. My encounters with Mr. X have always been pleasurable and exciting, but there was something now that seemed to change that idyllic relationship I had imagined so much. Perhaps it was the tone of his voice, perhaps it was the last phrase "it seems fun...it will be very fun ha ha ha"... And besides, even though he didn't say it, it wouldn't be a simple meeting; he would be accompanied and of course, that modified the dynamic I had become accustomed to. Following his instructions, I approached Commune 26, in the intermediate areas of that great city, full of small houses and two-story townhouses, with small gardens at the entrances, low walls, and very clean sidewalks, with cypress and palm trees. The street was almost empty at that early hour of the morning. I was supposed to call when I was near, and so I did as instructed, because I didn't have the exact address, just the street, which, besides being very long and steep, seemed monotonous with buildings painted in a pristine white. They had parking spaces inside each garden at the entrance of each house for one or two cars, and except for the decoration, all the townhouses were identical…which one was I supposed to go to? I was afraid of being late, so I moved halfway up the steep slope, and when I was halfway there, I decided to call. That way, I could quickly move in one direction or another in the least amount of time possible, and I waited until 8 to make the call.

After several rings, the desired clip came, initiating the communication…Happy day Master X, your slave reports to serve you…and my heart began to pound loudly at his response:

- Slave, get to number 17, and once in front say you come to serve as a dog, you will be dressed in nothing else, what you bring you will throw beforehand in the trash can on the sidewalk before calling, and upon the door opening, you will enter crawling or you will be on your knees, understood?

That order confused me; I could barely undress and remain only with the leather shackles around my neck, wrists, and ankles, and the leather chastity belt covering my sex and leaving all my buttocks and anus exposed; I wasn't too worried because the street looked very lonely; but what was I going to do with my clothes…should I throw them away? And worse, my identity documents, money, and wallet? And the backpack?.. I felt like I couldn't part with them, so I stammered

- "But Master, what am I supposed to do with my documents and..." I didn't finish the sentence because Sir X answered me, in an angry tone

- Slave, I gave you an order, just obey or go back and never come again

I responded immediately, trying to soften the rigid character of Master X, who did not accept any opposition to his decisions, “I'm sorry Master, I will do as you dictate”

- Good slave, you know what to do; you will beg for punishment for that.