Back from Heaven

Okay, so it wasn’t exactly heaven but 7 days in Cancun with Daddy was pretty amazing.  I had him to touch and hold and talk with for a whole week.  That part was divine. 

We were there to be witnesses to Goddess and El Jefe’s ten year vow renewal.  They had family and friends along for the event. Some of the guests were fun, some were crazy, some were kink-friendly and some were downright weird.  All-in-all it was an eventful week.  

The wedding was lovely.  Goddess was beautiful, El Jefe was handsome, my Sweetie was their well-spoken and touching minister.  Our friend Painted Lady was the maid of honor and I was a bridesmaid.  

Daddy and I were responsible for the bachelor and bachelorette parties.  I’ll have to tell you all about them.  They both had a little crazy aspect to them, as it should be.  We had a fun time of it. 

More to come soon.  I just wanted to stop by and say hello! 

Vacation…soon

Hey lovelies.  I’ve wanted to write all week but what to write about?  Daddy is in another state not sleeping much.  I’m here with a teen going through major emotional upheaval.  Not exactly a hotbed of BDSM. 

We are going on vacation next week, yay.  Our best friends El Jefe and Goddess are getting married again. They have been hitched for 10 years but never did all the fun and fancy until now.  So off we all go to Cancun.  Whoop! 

They have their families along so I don’t think it’ll be all naked fun all the time but we’ll squeeze some fun in I’m sure.  Mr. D and I will have 7 blessedly sinful days together.  Ahhhh.  I will keep you posted. 

Cry if You Must

“Kneel for me by the bed. Take the vibrator and put it on your clit,” he said. I did as told.

Already I was defeated. I knew this would be fruitless. I had no delusions that I’d be able to give him an orgasm this way. My body was decidedly not ready to be turned on. Have you ever had those days?  One where you knew it was going to take a lot to get your motor running?

I told myself to push those defeatist thoughts out of my mind and damned well do what Daddy wanted. I got on my knees near to the bed.  He laid on the bed so our faces were close together.  I was naked and put the vibrator on my clit on low speed.  As Daddy talked in my ear, my body warmed to the idea. The vibration awakened my clit and it began to feel good. 

All the while, Daddy talked in my ear.  “You’re my good little slut, my whore and you’re going to give me what I want aren’t you?”

I cringed. I was certain my knees would give out far faster than my mind would submit and allow me an orgasm. I whimpered in agreement and kept going. 

The more he talked the more my body responded.  His filthy talk and the names he called me spun into a sinful cyclone of pleasure.  I ached to obey. I longed for him to keep going, to debase me further. 

“You’re my dirty cum whore.  You will cum for me.” Damn, I wanted to so badly.  My knees were shooting pain but my body was finally kicking into high gear. 

I whimpered again.  I was getting frustrated with myself.  There seemed no passing a certain point, no thrusting myself over the edge.  The pain in my knees was interfering with my progress.  I looked up to him as my body slumped on the side of the bed. “Cry if you must but you will cum for me.”  He turned the vibrator to high.

Damn! I swear if I had any hope of cumming in this position that would have sent me over the edge.  That was fucking hot! All the times I ached for Harsh Daddy flooded into my mind…every last fantasy that he now fulfilled.  

It occurred to me that my feet were now completely asleep.  I cried and kept that cursed vibrator where he wanted it though.  I’d be damned if I was going to let my Fantasy Dom Incarnate down after he gave me what I always craved. Fuck. 

Finally, I looked up to him with tears in my eyes.  I was so dejected that my body had no hope of rising above the pain to achieve the goal he demanded. “What is it, slut?” He asked.

I paused and agonized but finally said, “My knees are in pain and my feet are asleep Daddy.  May I please stop?”  He gave me permission. 

Later he asked why on earth I didn’t call my safe word earlier, but really how could I?  This is what I’ve always wanted. 

Facial Touch

Have you ever noticed there are levels of intimacy within the whole scope of touching?  Clearly sexual touch is intimate, you only do it with people you want to share that experience with usually.  The best sexual touch happens with someone you are emotionally intimate with.

I was thinking today that other touching also carries differing levels of intimacy.  You hold hands with people you are close to like your children and also your husband or wife.  That one isn’t sexual at all.  

Face touching also falls in the category of intimate touch. I touch my child’s face and also my lover’s.  There is something so intimate about it.  I feel such a closeness being allowed to stroke Daddy’s face.  I feel like the most inner of his inner circles.  I love the sensation and the intimacy, it fulfills something deep inside me.

I’m the same way with my child.  He loves when I touch him, it eases his angst to have his arm touched or to get a hug.  If we’re all piled on the couch I notice I randomly touch whichever of my guys I can reach. I love that.  It calms me too.  It puts me in a cocoon of warm, intimate calm.

I learned too late to allow my mom to do this.  My dad has always been the parent I had the closest connection with.  Dad always had tickle fights and all us kids would pile onto his bed for stories or wrestling or just to talk. He was at ease and comfortable around us.  Mom was very loving but she didn’t really extend that love to touch while we were growing up. She wanted massages from me all the time but she wasn’t a ‘warm fuzzy’ kind of person.  

In my later years she began reaching over to me at parties to cup my face in her hand.  It felt invasive and out of place.  I allowed it because I loved her and didn’t want to hurt her feelings.  I look back now and wish I had welcomed that touch more. 

I love to give and receive touch but I really have an addiction to touching Daddy. He is so touchable.  I can close my eyes and feel him now.  It brings the warmth and calmness to me even though he’s not here. 

Starting Again

It has been ages since I’ve written.  So long now that this is well and truly a starting again.  Sigh. 

But I do want to start again so I will.  I left Daddy at the airport again today.  This living in two states and being a baby girl is turning me into a wilting flower.  I just think of leaving his side and I start weeping.  I’ve turned into one of those crazy  ladies who cry at airports.  A friend of mine’s mother would fall to pieces saying goodbye at airports. I thought it was terribly quaint and just a bit funny every time she did it.

But now, at some point during our drive or getting packed or saying goodbye I feel the tears. Daddy says, “No tears now,” and I feel quite vulnerable and well…baby girl.  I want to run into Daddy’s arms and have him tell me it’s okay.  But I put on a strong face and I act like my normal self to get through it. 

I feel unhinged but then I retreat into myself again to be the strong single mom.  He has uncovered my soft, utterly vulnerable, inner girl and I have to lock her away again each time. 

Sometimes it seems harder to find her again. This time Daddy was here for a week and I felt more my pragmatic shell of a self than usual. Financial concerns, work and parenting were hard to put aside. We didn’t have any alone time together.  Either my son was with us or we were caring for friends who needed our love and attention.  All good and necessary things but god I miss him.  

I miss being his baby girl. I miss being his submissive.  I want to be selfish and greedy but I try never to be that.  He is all I ever dreamed.  He is dirty and kinky.  He is so incredibly intelligent and caring.  He is my two sides in one person. My pragmatic mind finds a match in him. My business mind has a partner. My little girl has a protective Daddy. My dirty little slut has someone to make her debase herself for his pleasure. 

I had him all to myself for a while and I fear this new place we’re in. I fear at some point he’ll give me up. I fear this is too hard on him. I fear for his health, which is not good. I fear every little setback thinking it will be what breaks us. If there is a Divine plan at work please let us work, please let us find a way. I try everyday to believe we are okay and we will succeed.

Lastly, if I’m completely honest, I fear to write.  I’m afraid of saying something that will cause the protective Daddy in him to do something I don’t want because it’s for my own good.  I can’t stop that fear but I can force myself past it.  For good or ill, I will be brave and write. 

The Beatings will Continue until Morale Improves

Mr. D and I had a couples massage for a treat.  I had a woman who gave an incredibly deep massage.  My shoulders and upper back were quite sore when she was done.  She told me to let her know if she was hurting me, but when you’re supposed to be a masochist and your Dominant is lying next to you it feels pretty ridiculous to tell a short round woman, “Oh please stop, that hurts.”  She said I was a mess, I took her word for it and let her do her job.  

We stopped at Daddy’s favorite cigar bar and I met some friends of his. We enjoyed a few drinks and later arrived home.   We laid on the bed for a bit, we were nicely toasty by then. He told me to stay as he left the room so I took off my clothes and knelt in obeisance waiting for him.  When he returned he took my hand and led me to the spanking bench. 

I was so happy that he wanted impact play.  I love every expression of what he does to me.  I mount the bench and I am his. I am his willing plaything.  My hair falls over my face and I’m cocooned in the sensations he provides.  His voice caresses me while his instruments play across my body.

Many times it is impact play and other things as well.  He has tied me to the bench, he has facefucked me on the bench.  He has made me wear plugs and other inserted things.  This time though it was pure impact play.  

He used a feather duster to awaken my skin and tease my nerve endings. Then he used a long leather flogger to prime me.  I so love that flogger.  It is heavy yet he wields it in such a way that it can provide thuddy pleasure.  After he warmed me up with soft strokes he used this flogger to give me its bite and sting. I squirmed on the bench when he did this.  The bite of it makes me whimper and move away from it. But this warms my skin and makes me feel completely alive.   

He knows when I have reached my limit on one area of my body so he switches to another.  He used several different crops on my back.  With the soreness lingering from the massage I felt every biting smack of those crops.  It wasn’t a respite from the pain it just moved the playing field.  

“I want you to slip away and fly but I don’t think you will today.”  I wondered how he knew.  I felt languid and fully under his spell but he was right, I didn’t feel like I would go into subspace.  He switched to the heavy buffalo flogger.  This flogger is fairly new to us.  When he wields it the impact packs an intense wallop.  The sensation is very like being punched. Every strike to my ass jolts me forward on the bench and forces my voice and breath from me.  I hear myself grunting as the hit ricochets through me. I absolutely love it.  I feel every ounce of his power in those strikes.  I am putty under his punishing blows.   I want more, ever more.

Again he switched to something new.  He never rests from the onslaught but he is in my head.  He knows when to change rhythm, when to move from back to thighs to ass.  We are a matched pair dancing the timeless steps of the sadist and masochist.  He comes around to my face and holds a piece of leather to my lips.  “The one I made especially for you, slut.” It was the slapper he had fashioned himself.  I ran my lips over it, bit it lightly to feel it in my teeth. God, how I love this man. 

When he was done he told me, “Rise when you are ready.  Hold the sides and step down, one foot at a time.” I rose and was relieved I had listened to him and held on.  I was so limp I would have fallen.  I wasn’t in subspace all the way but I was certainly very deep into the sensations and experience. It took me time to come back together. 

“Look what you do to me.  I’ve been dripping the whole time.” I held his hand to steady myself and saw that his cock was hard and he was indeed dripping. I can’t tell you how much that thrills me.  To know that he clearly is very turned on by what we do gives me such a rush of joy. 

“Run your fingers up the base.” He’s teaching me how to milk him.  I put my fingers around the base of his cock and run them up the vein on the underside of him.  As they reach the tip, his come floods out if I’ve done it right. I took my prize and licked my fingers as he watched. 

The Real Deal

We had drinks then he had me close my eyes and undress in the living room.  He had packages and rustled through them.  Soon he was putting something on me. “Lift your arms, tuck through, there.  Turn around.” He perused his handy work, his hands smoothing the garment on my body.  “Yes, that will do. Damn you are hot. Go look.”

I went to the bathroom and looked in the mirror.  I was in a red mesh dress.  Nothing was left to the imagination.  I was a red siren with all my femaleness on display for him.  I returned to him and he took the red off me.  Next came something smaller.  A black body suit.  It was crotchless and backless.  The sides rose high on the hip.  The sheer black material hugged my waist, covering my belly and framed my breasts which were exposed to the touch. 

“I bought these for you but they are most decidedly a gift for me.  Yes, yes they are.  Sometime this weekend you will pose for me in these.  Now, into the bedroom.”

At his direction, I laid on the bed.  He knelt between my spread legs. “Open.” He said.  I held my pussy open for him.  His tongue slid down my clit teasing me, awakening me.  His tongue flicked my clit with feathery strokes setting me on fire.  The fluttery flicks he does with his tongue drive me insane with pleasure.  He latched on and sucked hard. It was so intense, too intense.  It had been a month of no contact and now he was thrumming on my sex hard and fast.  My traitorous body responded.  

First it begins as far too much.  He sucks and works my pussy with an intensity my body rejects.  Too much, too fast.  Then she turns, she bends to his will, ultimately she betrays me.  My clit swells and my hips thrust to meet his assault.  I want it all.  I want the intensity and the heat then I lose all control. 

Rolling and bucking on the bed under him, I am on the bitter edge of orgasm.  His tongue has opened me, his power has drawn me out.  I am a willing prisoner in full abandonment to his will. 

He pulls up from my crotch and asks, “What are you to do when I give you an order, when I give you homework slut?” Oh shit. 

“I am to obey. I must obey Daddy.”

“That’s right. And if it’s hard?”

“I still must obey.” He was right and I knew this.  I felt horrible all over again for letting him down.

“Yes slut, because you still must obey when it’s hard.  Especially when it’s hard. That’s why it’s service.”  He had me utterly exposed and vulnerable. “Hold open your pussy.” That was when I saw the crop in his hand.  I whimpered, knowing he had played me. He had suckled my clit until it was swollen and raw with need so that this would really hurt.

The crop came down right on my clit and the pain exploded throughout my entire body.  “No Daddy, no please!” I knew I had to take the punishment, wanted to even, but I had not expected this pain.  It is the absolute center of me and he was inflicting precision blows with the crop. It was all I could do to stay open for him. 

I cried and he continued with the crop.  “You understand that I must punish you?”

“Yes Daddy, y..ye..esss.” I tried to catch my breath, it was useless.  

The crop came down again.  The pain shot through my crotch into my stomach.  I desperately wanted to curl up and protect myself. I put my hands over my pussy.  I couldn’t help myself. 

“Move your hands slut.” I whimpered and shook my head but obeyed nonetheless. “Good, you’re learning.” Oh that was insult on top of injury.  I had let him down.  That hurt so much more than the pain. 

“Now you’re going to count for me.” Oh god no, not the counting.  That means these were just the warm up strikes.

I held open my pussy and he let loose the crop.  The pain blossomed from my pussy outward and I counted, “One, Daddy.” Whimpering all the while with my eyes screwed shut. 

“What are you going to do the next time I give you homework baby girl?” He struck again.

“Obey Daddy, two!” I may have rolled over. I tried not to but damn if I wanted to protect myself. I got back into position.

“Good girl.” I opened back up and he struck again. 

“Three Daddy.” I said.  I whimpered and cried shamelessly. He hit again.

“Four Daddy!” Fuck it hurt.  My poor pussy was raw and on fire.  He hit me one final time. 

“Five Daddy.” I cried out and before I let out my breath from the final hit he thrust his cock fully to the hilt inside me.  I screamed as I felt him rip me in two. Daddy’s cock is very, very thick and it had been a solid month since any penetration. It burned all the way inside.  

Once he was buried balls deep in me, I felt his weight on me and it dawned on me that the punishment was over and Daddy was fucking me.  My body responded and I moaned.  Finally, we were together again and he was inside me.  

He fucked me with such intensity.  My pussy was so raw and sore but I didn’t care.  I was home and I was forgiven.