Lifestyle Characters

As we move around in this lifestyle Mr. D and I have taken on many personae. Purists would shun our behavior, I have no doubt.  

In exploring our interests and one another we’ve each tried on a few different characters. They all fall on our own distinct side of the slash but they each relate to the others differently. Mr. D is and always will be dominant. There is no changing that immutable fact. No matter what persona he dons it is decidedly in the lead.  

I am always and primarily submissive. There is no changing that part of who I am. It is a permanent part of me.  

As we began to explore, Mr. D loved the Daddy/baby girl dynamic. I had never experienced it before. I understood it and was willing to try. I knew a baby girl was submissive so felt I could take this on. Fast forward a few years and I truly enjoy being a baby girl. 

The Daddy role suits Mr. D perfectly. He is always watchful and taking care of me. Even when he’s the one to hurt me he’s the first to make sure I’m okay. Even when we have plain vanilla sex he makes sure I’m ok afterwards.  I love being his baby girl.  I love how he considers me in all he does, how he plans ahead, and how me protects me. It took putting me into a vulnerable baby girl mindset to open me as deeply as he has. I trust him more than I’ve trusted anyone with my heart and my body. 

As we have grown in our dynamic Mr. D has asked me about the desires in my submissive heart. I’ve told him of my secret dream of being slave or kajira. I crave the intensity and the full immersion of that role. Something about me wants the ultimate test. I want to be his prized possession, his greatest asset. I want to be owned by him. I ache to serve and relinquish all of myself to him. It is not easy. In fact it can be very hard and for some reason I crave that. The more stern he is and the more demanding, the faster I slip into subspace. Why? We’ve explored that too. No matter the why, the reason it works is because it is a release and a challenge for me. In those moments of deep service all else disappears, all that remains is his desire. That pinpoint of darkness, that razor’s edge of focus is my happy place. In those moments I feel like we merge into one whole.

Before I left home on Friday to come see him, Mr. D texted me that Stern Master would be taking control this visit. He told me to be ready. He said he had been too lenient for far too long. “Be ready,” his text said. I knew what that meant. Daddy would be put away and a more rigid and controlling personality would take his place. Stern Master doesn’t let me get away with anything. He wants and he takes. He does not protect as Daddy does, he expects service and expects it with no excuses. 

Is this Mr. D’s natural personality? Yes and no. It is not the primary one. His primary is Daddy. In his most relaxed and most comfortable, he is Daddy. When his darkness takes over, he is Master. Does this mean Master is any less him? No. Less comfortable perhaps but no less him. 

My baby girl, submissive, slave, slut and whore all serve him. No matter the name, no matter the inflection of voice, when he calls, I answer. When he commands, I obey. 

Exposed

The first night in Cancun, Mr. D greeted me at the door of the hotel.  I came in on a later flight and took a shuttle to the hotel.  

As we sat with the Concierge to get my key to our room, Mr. D told me, “I am a little drunk.  I got El Jefe drunk at the swim-up pool bar today.  I am sunburnt and we made ALL the friends.” That’s my man.  One day in Cancun and he made friends with everyone and trashed himself and his best friend.  Love him!  He is all out sometimes and I love that about him. 


He walked me to our room showing me the hotel and then opening the door to our perfect oasis for the week.  The room was a vision in tropical white. White linens, white leather couches, white bar and white curtains.  The room had a patio out to the pool, a sauna tub and the shower I already mentioned.  The bar was a full bar.  


It was magical and we had it all to ourselves for a full week.  Life was good! It was late but I was hungry from a long day of travel. We ordered room service for me then relaxed on the bed. One thing led to another and Daddy soon had his face buried in my crotch.  We hadn’t seen each other in a month. He had me so turned on.  At about the point I was writhing on the bed he crawled up to whisper in my ear, his hand taking over where his mouth had been. 

“I want to fuck my slut but room service is coming soon. Maybe I’ll have my little whore answer the door naked.” I moaned as he made me hotter and wetter with his hands and his taunts. 

“Yes, I think I will have you answer the door just like this.  Or maybe,” He pulled his shorts down then and took out his cock. “I’ll make you walk to the door with my cum dripping out of you like a dirty whore should.”  With that he fucked me hard and fast all the while my mind is reeling from the thought of exposing myself to the room service guy soon to arrive on our doorstep. Daddy knows how to twist me up so tightly.

I shuddered with the pleasure of his cock pounding me. I looked into his slightly drunken eyes and thought he might be drunk enough to make me do it.  Would I answer the door naked and used? The unanswered question plunked around in my head as he fucked me.

Then, the knock came at the door. I’m sure my eyes widened as round as saucers.  Daddy pulled his cock out of me and pulled up his shorts. “Don’t move.” He said. His voice hard as nails.  I thought, he’s going to bring the guy into the room while I’m naked on the bed. I knew I couldn’t move but at the last second threw the sheet over my bare ass so I was partially covered. 

Daddy walked back into the room alone with a tray of food. I breathed a sigh of relief until, “I didn’t say you could cover yourself.” Damn, caught.

Soon, I was on the ottoman at the end of the bed and he finished fucking me in that position.  We love ottomans. So, that was my welcome to Mexico.

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. 

😊😊😊😊😊

Edging

I took a bath, I wanted to be a clean slut to perform the acts you commanded of me. We are a dichotomy of light and dark, clean and dirty, pure and sinful. This felt right. 

I shaved in preparation.  I wanted to be most pleasing.  Naked and glistening, I knelt at my bedside with lube and a new toy on the bed in front of me.  The plug we use is with you so I found another.  Black as sin, six inches long and made for pleasuring the prostate…it would do. 

I placed it at the tight entrance to my ass, all the tighter for not having been used for a month.  The bulbous head was larger than expected.  I gasped as it stretched me uncomfortably.  I added more lube and finally succeeded.  

The phallus filled my ass.  All the length of it was now buried inside me for you. I knelt at my bed and turned on the vibration.  Yessss, that’s good, I thought.  I wondered if this would push me too far.  I was going to find out.

You told me to think of you, of your cock stretching me, filling me.  I did Daddy and of your hand on my throat, your fingers crowding my mouth as you forced me to look at you, to give you every  possible scrap of my attention. You had it, I am your slave, all of me including my attention is yours. 

I moved to lay on the bed naked, the plug rumbling in my ass.  I touched myself.  I caressed my breasts.  I rolled my nipples and pinched them until they were tight pearls of neediness. I pushed the plug in further until it was to the hilt.  I pulled on it, fucked myself with it for you.  I knew you’d want to Daddy.  

I touched my pussy for you. Smooth, plump and open, the pussy you own responded.  Liquid music flowed from my fingertips to the vibrating plug.  As my fingers danced upon these strings of pleasure, your slut’s body answered the chords you plucked with notes of its own. 

The more your cock invaded my mind the more the notes of my need followed your tune.  The wildness of our fucking was the rhythm to which my body moved.  So hot, so needy, I begged you to pound me with percussive force.  I arched to meet your thrusts and too soon, so soon a crescendo.  

Rippling vibrations flowed over my trembling body.  My fingers stopped, precursing staccato jolts rocked me.  Breathe slave breathe. One refrain played, two more must follow. The tune in my mind shifted.  It was a simple song, one of dark intent.  I felt your heat and your malice flow. I wanted your hidden power…the danger.

You had me on my face, a vice grip in my hair.  My ass raised for you, your words invading my mind.  This stanza would be the devil’s play.  You fill my mind with fear and lay me bare.  Your words dance upon my soul and lift me from the foulest places.  In my depravity, I match yours.  This duet of darkness is all that my soul desires.  Every sinful song I can sing is no match to this, to your power over me.  I am your instrument, a sonnet of sin to be played upon body and soul. 

Again, I reach the edge and a shuddering shaking preamble lays me bare.  I should fear the third and final verse but I don’t.  Far from it.  I am taken away by this piece now, your concerto.  I am your wanton slut, I have taken your drug in full now and like any addict I want more and more and more. 

Eagerly I touch myself, I don’t savor the sounds anymore.  I wallow in the cacophony like a pig in slop.  I have sinned and there is no penance that will bring me back. My fingers slide in the slick smear of juices that have flowed as you played. I want more, I want it all.  I want to bath in your ecstasy, I want it to continue endlessly.  But no!  All too soon, I’m shuddering.  Such a betrayer, my body.  Why so soon?  I wanted this song to play forever.  I stopped touching, I had to or else I’d go over into the abyss. 

Stop and Start

That’s me, the queen of stopping and starting again.   I suppose (so, I tell myself) that dedication does not always come in a long unbroken chain.  We all have fits of downtime, hard time, or breaks in our stride.  Clearly many more are better than I am but I pride myself on (at the very least) my dedication to beginning again. 

So, here I am for the long haul.  I’m dedicated to writing.  I’m dedicated to my Dominant.  I’m dedicated to my son and my family.  Now, what am I going to do?

What I’m going to do has been the paramount question on my mind for months now.  My son’s life is here, my Sweetheart is now in Texas.  What do I do?  When I ask for others opinions, I get them.  But really I get that person’s point of view.  They don’t quite  understand how I am so the help doesn’t seem useful.  I dearly love them all for trying.  But bottom line, I will have to make a decision and no matter which way I go, it will break someone’s heart. 

My Daddy wants me with him and I want to be with him to have our amazing life together.  But to do that I must take my son away from all he’s known and his father.  How can I choose?

Several people say, just take your son, your Ex will just have to deal with it.  That feels so crass and heartless.  The words make me recoil.  Just because he’s an Ex and he did some pretty crappy things while being an active drunk doesn’t mean it’s ok to take his son away.  He got sober.  He’s been sober for years now.  He’s a completely dedicated father.  He is selfish and lacks insight when dealing with his son but is that just cause to lose his son’s proximity?

My Daddy is in Texas now.  He chose a position that will free him from his financial bonds.  It has allowed him to make up a huge chunk of ground he lost during the recession.  He wants financial stability for our future instead of a long struggle.  I totally understand that.  We can buy a house there, a nice house for all of us.

I want to be with him always.  I can’t think of missing him too much or I start crying and I can’t lose myself to that.  I’ve never loved someone like this before.  In all honesty, I loved my Ex but nothing like this.  Daddy and I have a connection unlike any I’ve ever felt.  He compliments me, the real me, like no other.  He is so intelligent he puts me to shame sometimes.  I love our banter.  I love that he picks up on things others do not.  He is funny and lighthearted then dark and intensely sexual. All the facets of him feed the facets in my heart and soul.  He loves my son for who he is.  My son has challenges and is deeply into his puberty at the moment but Daddy sees his goodness and overlooks his growing pains.  

When Daddy moved in we were able to grow in the direction of a nuclear family.  We achieved a routine of sorts in the short time we had together.  Family dinners most nights, playing games, the little things of a complete life. My son was so enamored of it.  So was I.  We were a complete family together.  Our D/s suffered in the transition but I knew we’d eventually figure that out.  We are both focused on not letting that ever slip away. 

Now I must choose.  How do I choose?  Either way my son suffers.  If I stay, he loses out on a nuclear family.  If I go, he will be distanced from his father and will most likely have to go through a legal battle which (knowing his father’s slowness to forgive) could stain their relationship forever. 

Daddy says he will wait for me no matter what it takes.  His level of selflessness and willingness to sacrifice rival any submissive act I could ever offer him.  How can I ask this beautiful man to wait years for me?  

So, there is my torture with all my angst and anxiety.  I have laid myself bare.  Any thoughts you have for us would be welcome.  

Obey

Daddy and I went on a romantic weekend trip recently.  While we were in town we saw a long time friend of his.  This was the first time I had met his friend and I think it had been many years since Daddy had seen him.

Daddy had told me that they had played sexually before.  Him, his friend (also male) and their wives/girlfriends had all played sexually together. So theirs had been an intimate friendship.  I had never met this friend before but I knew of Daddy’s poly past.  This was one of the reasons we had chosen an open relationship after all. 

Daddy told me that his friend was a breast man and to dress for the occasion.  I chose a low cut dress to honor Daddy and be his arm candy.  I knew Daddy would be pleased to show me off. 

When his friend arrived we talked for a few minutes in the hotel.  Daddy made some direct comments about my body to his friend.  I can’t now remember the exact comments.  I do remember feeling embarrassed by one comment and when I looked at his friend he had the same pained look on his face that I felt on mine. What was Daddy doing? I wondered to myself. 

We left the hotel and went to dinner.  During the long drive they caught up on things with each other. While we were at the restaurant Daddy again made a lewd comment about me to his friend.  I felt rather like a piece of meat.  I tried to understand what he was doing but I didn’t know his friend and I could only sense discomfort from the man.  

Though we all talked about the lifestyle and his friend having been in the local scene in the past, there was no talk or interest from him in playing with us.  As we arrived back at our hotel, I wondered if Daddy was going to make me play with this man.  He had never ordered me to play with anyone before that I didn’t know. 

We had drinks in the hotel bar.  I felt distant from the conversation.  I was perplexed.  What do I do?  Do as Daddy commands with someone I only just met?  I felt very uncomfortable.  Aside from Daddy making off color comments, there was no chemistry here.  There was nothing at all that made me want to play.  Would I obey if commanded?

After drinks we walked back to the room and his friend took his leave.  Daddy thought my goodnight to the man was a brush off.  Honestly, I couldn’t tell you if it was.  It’s very possible because I’d had enough of the uncertainty.  When his friend made noises to leave I happily let him.

I asked Daddy afterwards what he was trying to do.  He said he liked putting people off balance on purpose.  He asked me about my reactions.  He asked if I would have taken an impromptu order to play if it had been given.  He wondered if the unexpected nature of it was more than I could handle and why was this so.

All good questions.  I’ve only been with a few men.  I’m timid by nature and only like to do things that make people happy not uncomfortable. If that friend had been all over the prospects of playing with us would my response have been different? Probably.  

Did I act like the slave I want to be?  No, I didn’t.  Daddy felt disconnected from me.  I didn’t trust the situation but I should have trusted him.  That is my place, to trust and obey.  I did not. 

Lock, Stock and Barrel

It was the day after Thanksgiving and we were just home from shopping together for my son’s Christmas present.  Afterwards, we picked him up from our friend’s place and came home together. 

We were lying in bed because we’re both sick and doing much of anything was tiring.  It was midday.  My son had been talking with Mr. D from separate rooms, bantering as they do.  My man and my teenager both have ribault senses of humor so the verbal jousts were entertaining.  My son does his best to keep up and he loves the game. 

After a few minutes, he came in and crawled on the bed between us to snuggle up to us.  His arms were around me getting his snuggles and his back was cozied up to Mr. D.  I was so content lying there with my men. 

At one point in the conversation I could see that Daddy wanted to say something.  “I have something I want to ask you both.” My son kept talking away, oblivious. Daddy started again but got interrupted by the boy chatter again.  He then pushed my son’s face down into the covers of the bed playfully. “Hush, I’m talking now.” He said. 

My son looked up to him then and quieted down.  Daddy spoke directly to him but his eyes held mine.  “We both know I love Mom very much and I love you too. I want us to be together for always. We all know it’s just a matter of time before I marry mom.”  My son smiled at that, so did I. 

“So, Baby Girl, will you marry me?”  I looked up into his eyes trying to comprehend the question.  We’re sick in bed with the boy, Daddy is a planner by default and this feels so spontaneous.  Is he really asking me now?

“Will I marry you?  Wait…you’re really asking me?” I asked.  I needed clarification. He had recently told me he had a plan to ask me at our friends’ vow renewal in Cancun. (He doesn’t keep secrets long) This was definitely not Cancun. 

“Yes, my Love, sick and in bed with the boy, I’m asking you to marry me.” 

“Yes, I’ll marry you.  I love you so much.”  We kissed and I was so very, very happy.  Still stunned but completely happy.

Before my son could interject, Daddy said, “And do you approve? I’m asking you too because you’re part of this.  Do you want me to marry your Mom?”

“Yes! Definitely! You’ll really be my Step Dad now.” My son was beside himself with glee.  He’d been asking me forever when Mr. D would make it happen.

Afterwards, we got up and went to the jewelry store just as we were.  Sick, frumpy, no makeup or a nice dress with my hyper son in tow I followed my Master, Daddy, my Husband-to-be in to pick out a ring.  

As I sat there waiting for the sales ladies to do their thing and Daddy was on the other side of the store with my boy picking out a ring for the little guy too, my heart swelled so much it felt like it would fly away.  How perfect a day, how well he knows me.  

I wouldn’t trade this special day for any fancy production.  No need for glitzy clothes and expensive dinners.  We joined our lives in the place I love the most.  Together snuggling in bed.