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. 

Sex, what’s that?

So, I have been remiss.  I languished in my time with Daddy.  He was here a blissful 9 days, I think.  I wallowed in the touch of him, the nearness of him. I had family and him around me and it was bliss. 

I should have given you all a play-by-play of our days together and then the pain of the inevitable separation but I didn’t.  I felt possessive of my time with him.  I couldn’t waste it writing of it.  Then he was gone and I didn’t have the heart to face it.  

I buried myself in work and parenting and that’s where I’ve been. It’s good really.  The lonely, missing him, feelings get pushed down and my focus narrows.  I have been cranking at work and not sad.  

Like clockwork though, I must write and here I am to face it.  The minute I began writing so came the tears.  Time to find his baby girl and dig her out of her cocoon.  


Daddy’s Home

I’m at the airport waiting for his plane.  I’m so excited to have Daddy home!  I get him for a full week and then some.  Pure heaven.  

I’m aching to touch him. I’m aching for lots of things but mainly I desperately want to feel him and be near him. 



I saw him walking towards me at the airport.  In a sea of people, I saw him.  Mine.  I kissed him.  I missed him so much.  

I wasn’t dressed for him as I’d wanted to be.  My plane was an hour late and arrived only minutes before his.  I had planned to change and get dolled up for him.  Here I was, in jeans and a sweater, looking rather unsexy and feeling bashful for it. 

We took a long walk to his car and caught up along the way.  We stopped for dinner on the way home. Then I finally got to see our home away from home, a two bedroom apartment.  It is nice and set up with his office in the living room, bedroom, bathrooms and kitchen.  The basics.  The extra bedroom has nothing in it but the spanking bench. More on that later. 

He told me to get comfortable and stay warm so I changed into pajamas.  He returned from the bathroom naked.  “Get up.” He said.  I rose from the bed and stood  before him.  “Kneel.” I knelt at his feet, my breath catching in my throat. It had been so long, I felt so happy finally.  My hands behind my back, my eyes lowered as he clasped me to his body.  My chin on his chest, his arms around me.  I was home, I was safe, I was his. 

My breath caught in my throat as I let out a long sigh.  Homecoming. “That’s right.” He said, “You’re here now. You’re mine. Say it.”

“I’m yours Daddy.”  He kissed me hard and with passion. His iron grip around my neck.  I was possessed, I was claimed. 

“That’s right. Now suck.” He pulled back from me and his hard cock pushed towards my mouth. 

I opened and took his cock gently into my mouth.  I tasted him, I savored the taste and feel of his silken sheethed hardness.  He was so thick, filling my mouth fully.  I opened more and sucked him into the back of my throat.  He held the back of my head and thrust deep.  I love when he does that. 

“On the bed.” I rose and climbed on the bed laying on my back. “That’s right.” He pulled me close to him at the edge of the bed and plunged his face between my legs. His tongue invaded my sex.  His lips sucked in my clit so his tongue could assault it.  It was so fast, so shocking after so long away.  I convulsed on the bed, the intensity was startling. He strummed my clit with his tongue until it was throbbing and I was bucking against him.  

He mounted me finally.  I was hungry for his cock.  I wanted it in me already!  He pushed in with aching slowness.  Just the tip, savoring the feeling.  “Ooo that’s nice.” He said.  He pushed in again  deeper.  “Yes, nice.” Inch by inch he pushed in until he was buried to the hilt.  So good.   He filled me, he pumped me, he gave it all to me.  

So, so good. I’m home. 

Being a Little

I really have no experience with this part of being a baby girl.  The concept of being a Little is understandable but I became an adult very young and it is ingrained in me now.  

I had to care for my mother and brother very early in life.  She was overly sensitive and emotional.  She just wasn’t up to being a single parent.  She was strong but simply too vulnerable. She relied on me from very early in life.  From 12 years old on, I cooked the meals, did a lot of the shopping and cared for my brother most of the time.  I was also her shoulder to cry on.

After spending my life caring for a mother and then a husband who needed my care, I am in a new place.  I still have the serving and caring genes well cemented in my psyche but now I have a different outlet as well.  Daddy came along and began to care for me.  His desire to be Daddy and care for his girl is changing me, allowing me to be vulnerable myself.

For the first time in a very long time, it is okay to feel, to let go and experience my emotions. It is okay to be his little girl.  I have dressed as his little girl a couple times and I loved it.  Pigtails and lace for my Daddy, it was so hot and also freeing.  I could be another me who is more pouty, more vocal and oh so eager to please Big Daddy.


Today I am looking forward.  I’m still moving through sluggish waters but each day is better and less filled with the slowness from before.

Christmas was a beautiful time.  The imminence of guests and family arriving kicked my ass in gear.  I cooked the entirety of our Christmas dinner on Christmas Eve.  It made me happy to have family to feed and to care for.  Daddy was here every day and we got to sleep together Christmas Eve.  It felt right and relaxed.  I was so tired after marathon cooking and entertaining but still we laid down and after a couple minutes of snuggling I wanted him.

Something about being in contact with him makes me awaken even if I was falling asleep right before. I touch him and my body responds.  He said no.  Damn it.  Daddy knows best but damn it anyway.  Being taken care of is a beautiful thing even if I don’t always get what I want. Daddy is better at planning and at being regimented than I am.  I try to follow his lead and do as he says.  In those moments my little girl wants to pout and get her way.  

As recently happens, I have much to write and am slow to start.  I am stopping in today to start my pen flowing again. I hope you all had a lovely holiday, whichever one you celebrate.


Little Submissive Bird puts the need and the feeling of belonging and oneness so well.

I love that feeling too.



The weekend is so close I can almost taste it.

I can almost feel his hands on me, his strike on my ass, his breath in my ear.  The anticipation is making me crazy.  The need to submit again is forceful.  This isn’t a game to me, this isn’t something I play at.  This is me.  I need this.  I understand these desires better than I did years ago when I first began to explore, but even if I didn’t it wouldn’t diminish the need.  It is when I submit that I feel I truly belong. Even if just for a few hours.  I belong.  I am understood.  That is one of the true beauties of D/s for me.  That total understanding and respect and admiration of each others desires.  There is no “wait you want to do what to me?”  “I’m sorry but you like that?”  “why would…

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