I was responding to a comment and something came up that I thought I’d bring to a more public place for discussion. Those of us that write a blog all have certain things we do as part of this blogging way of life. It’s not just write, publish and reap millions of readers’ love and adoration. Is it? I mean, if it is for you that’s insanely good. Move along, there’s nothing for you here.

Like I said in my last post, this is a blogging platform not specifically a social one. If you want it to become a social one you have to work at it. Most followers at the beginning to middle stages of a blog are other blog writers. We’re interested and we’re here a lot more than general readers. It just stands to reason that we are each other’s audience to a great extent. What that means is that there is reciprocation needed. You can’t just write and move on with your day if you want to build a community.

I can’t tell you how many times I’ve read a blog post about someone’s guilt related to not reading all their followers’ posts. I feel that guilt all the time. I’m sure many of you do too…I’ve read it. I’ve gone back and forth with this guilt. I’ve tried to read through and comment on every subscription email I receive on your posts. I’ve tried to have a laissez-faire attitude of “I’ll read the ones that really interest me,” because I can’t read them all. Then I’ve fallen completely off the wagon and deleted them all in one swift fire sale of frustration. I haven’t found the sweet spot of following.

My question is what do you do? How do you handle the flow? How do you build community? I see some folks who have succeeded. They have a nice group of consistent commenters and they are having a grand time. I post a comment in the midst of their conversation and it makes me smile. I feel the glow coming from their light.

I know not everyone has the same goal. People blog for many different reasons. My own reasons vacillate back and forth. I write because I love to write. I write for my Dominant. He loves to read and it thrills me to thrill him. This is a way I can serve him and show my love. He likes to use my writing to assess how I did with his choice of scenes. He is a process thinker, an engineer. He needs input and I don’t always want to talk it all through. I love talking to him but I don’t always volunteer information, so I write and it’s

another way to communicate.

I am a social person and a service person. My submission to Daddy has a big service element. My work and parenting also have a service element. This means that I don’t do anything in a vacuum or just for myself. Which leads me to realize that I need to give weight to that in my writing endeavors too. I thrive on feedback. I thrive in a community. When the community or service aspect of my writing dwindles, I stop wanting to write as much.

I’d love to hear your thoughts on building a blogging community, how you are a good follower or why you write. Thank you to all who read and follow me. You are truly my lifeblood here.

The Shower

In Cancun, our room had the most fabulous shower.  It was an entire room worth of space.  It had shelves of towels, a bench seat, a handheld shower head and one of those rainforest showers that rain down on you from the ceiling.  

The first day we were at the resort together I had a great time in the pool with all the ladies.  We had drinks and fun in the sun.  Daddy and El Jefe sat on our swim-up patio and watched the girls while smoking cigars.  

Ending the day in the pool, we all made plans for the evening dinner.  I gave Daddy a kiss and went to wash off.  As I stripped off my bikini and turned on the water I felt a presence behind me. It was Daddy.  “I realized where you were going and wanted to be here for your first experience of the shower.”

I turned and smiled as he shucked off his shorts and joined me.  He pulled me into his arms under the water. It was pure heaven.  He held me as he kissed me while the gentle rain of water fell over us. It was incredible. 

He began to kiss me more fervantly.  Along with several rummy drinks, his kisses served to kindle my ardor.  One wall of the shower was marble up to the waist and glass from there to the ceiling.  The window looked out on the room with our friends in clear view on the patio.  If El Jefe had turned around he would have seen me pushed up against that glass as Daddy plumbed my depths with his fingers. 

Knowing we would have folks in the room readying to leave soon, Daddy pulled back and said we should finish getting clean. I wanted to keep getting dirty but I heard him and followed his command. 

Sudsing up a bar of hotel soap I got to wash Daddy from head to toe.  Mmm, my slick and slippery hands touched every part of his body.  I was careful on his sunburnt shoulders but I loved feeling the expanse of his masculine back.  His very wide shoulders taper down to his rock hard ass…mmm.  I kept going further down and washed his toned, tight calves, his feet, then came back up to slide my fingers around his cock and balls.  I could have done that all day.  

We found every opportunity that week to shower together. I recall one particularly hot session where I ended up sitting on the floor sucking his cock. (Marble floors do not lend well to kneeling.)

Anyhow, I just had to share our fabulous shower in Mexico.

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. 

Implements of Torture

To christen our new home in a new state I wanted to get Daddy something special, something to enhance our D/s lifestyle. We had seen a beautiful Bison flogger together when we chose my collar.  I had thought about it many times since then and he had mentioned it too. So, that is what I chose for him.  

While I was on the Stockroom website I looked around at other things too.  I found a beautifully made tawse.  I was so excited to find it.  Tawses are old school implements that teachers in England and Scotland used to discipline children.  They are usually made from one single piece of leather with a handle.  The long slapper is split down the middle and looks something like a tuning fork in shape. The split is supposed to give it a distinctive sting.  This one has a handsome pattern stamped on the handle.  It is very nice, very quality-made.  

Tawse from Stockroom

Daddy asked me to look around in Scotland when I was there for a tawse.  I never found one.  I researched them and found out that they stopped using them in schools decades ago.  So, I was doubly excited to be able to fulfill this desire.  

The Bison leather made the new flogger quite a bit heavier than his cowhide floggers.  It also has a smooth and shapely Granadillo wood handle. I loved the feel of it and really hoped he liked using it.  When we got to the house and unpacked I tucked both toys under my side of the bed for the right time to give them to him.  

Bison Flogger from Stockroom

Monday came and after our errands and lunch Daddy said he wanted to beat me.  “Is that alright with you?” He asked.

“That sounds perfect to me Daddy.”  He knows I will never turn down play time.  It is my absolute favorite pastime. 

I knelt on the floor on my side of the bed at his feet.  “I have a surprise for you Daddy.  I wanted to give you something to celebrate the beginning of our life here in this new place.”  I brought out the flogger first and then the tawse.  

He was very pleased with both of his gifts. “Thank you very much baby girl.  If you want to play now, go present yourself.”  I rose from his feet and went into the spanking room.

(I have no affiliation to the Stockroom.  I’m just a happy customer.  I hope by linking to their site that they will be okay with me showing you their pictures.)

Yes Please

Yes Please”On the bed, face down.” I gingerly crawled on the bed, doing my best not to lose the plug in my ass. As tight as it was going in, I had the hardest time holding onto the thing. It was lubed and as I moved my muscles worked against me, pushing the thing out at the most inopportune moments. 
I laid on my stomach waiting. Daddy sat on the bed near me. The first thing I felt was the plug being pushed inside me deeper. I moaned, feeling the pressure of it inside me.  
He caressed my ass cheeks and I knew what came next. A crop to each cheek. He was not gentle, there was not a warm up this time.  
There were crop strikes again then the plug was pushed deeper. Each round of strikes was followed by the plug being pushed again. Essentially, he was fucking me with the plug. 

I had no further fear of losing the plug that night. When he fucked me later, I could still feel the muscle memory of the plug…pushing in. 

Poly Play – Part Two

I’m told I’m a tease to leave Poly Play just sitting out there without wrapping up the story.  What can I say, I’m a cock tease, but I always come through with the goods. 😜

There wasn’t much left to the story but it seemed more than could be told in one telling.  I never saw it but Coupe and Lady got hot and heavy on the chaise lounge after we vacated it.  Damn, I miss all the good stuff.  I’d have paid good money to see that.  

After kissing El Jefe and coming over to Daddy to see if he approved of all I had done, I didn’t see much else.  I was still wondering how Coupe was taking all this.  Even though I’m quite timid myself sometimes, I worried about how he was taking this initial foray into Poly life.  

Daddy pointed in front of him and put a pillow down for me to kneel. He pulled his shorts down and commanded me to suck.  I was at once thankful to be given this duty and relieved that I would be occupied with something that kept me from view.  I was feeling overwhelmed by it all and suddenly shy.  I took his cock in my mouth and wrapped my arms around his legs.  My face was completely hidden by his thighs and my hair. Blessed anonymity, I love you so.

Apparently, while I was going down on Daddy, Coupe was also getting a blowjob right behind me on the chaise. I saw and heard nothing. Goddess and El Jefe were on the couch next to us basking in the glow of their experience. 

Goddess leaned over and gave Daddy a kiss.  After a while of me going down on him, he chose for me to stop.  I came up for air and joined the conversation with El Jefe and Goddess. Coupe and Lady and disappeared to their room.  Later, Lady told us she had taken Coupe to the room for a proper fucking.  

As the four of us were talking, Coupe and Lady came to the sliding glass door naked and made faces at us through the glass. Coupe pressed his naked ass to the steamy glass and what a cute, tight, young ass it was too.  I had never seen him naked before.  Seems I missed quite a lot while I was face down in Daddy’s lap. 

Daddy took me into our room and fucked me hard. His hand on my neck, his voice whispering to me that I was his.  I was his slut, his slave, his whore.  Damn that gets me twisted up in such an incredible fervor.

Later in the afternoon, I was on the couch with Lady.  I think everyone was having snacks at that point.  After all the sex and alcohol, everyone was hungry.  I had my head on Lady’s lap.  She was whispering things to me as the others talked and ate. I was still in a bit of a stupor from the day. 

“You love being watched.  You love being the center of attention.  You little tease, you love us watching you and seeing you on display. You perform for us and we want to see what you do.” As she whispered such provocative things in my ear I wondered about them.  Do I? Do I love being watched? Am I hungry for that kind of attention? I honestly didn’t know if she was reading me or talking about her desire to watch. I had only been a helper in the events of that particular day.  I was not at all the center of things.  Goddess and El Jefe were the birthday pair and we treated them thusly.  In my drunken musings as I listened to Lady’s words I wondered about what I was and what I wanted to be.  Food for thought, anyway.

Dungeon Flogging Class

We arrived at our flogging class.  It was at a local dungeon with about 20 other people attending.  The instructor was very good, I thought. He showed us a slow motion technique to learn Florentine flogging.  This is a two-handed flogging technique.  There are patterns that you can learn.  The first was a four step pattern and the second was a six step pattern.  Mr. D and I both felt the six step pattern was actually a little easier to pick up.

We practiced the patterns while the instructor came around and watched each of us and gave us pointers.  Even though this was Mr. D’s first time with Florentine he was well practiced at flogging already.  The instructor said to him, “I doubt I’m teaching you anything at all.” 

It was really fun. I hate to admit it but I haven’t practiced at all since then.  I would love to get to the point where I’m really good at it.  I would love to flog people and give them that release and that experience.  I don’t think there is anything wrong with a submissive topping someone to give them pleasure.  It seems to me this would be one more service I can offer.

There was a play party after the class so we stayed at the dungeon for that as well.  It started very slowly because it was pretty early.  We sat and watched the crowd grow and listened to some nearby conversations between our classmates.  One woman from the class entertained us by being an attention seeking person. I had noticed her in class.  She was overly eager for anyone to notice her.  It’s fun to people watch but even more so at a dungeon. The personalities are more pronounced.

After a bit, one couple began rope play in the middle of the great room. It was mesmerizing to watch the detail and concise movements of the guy tying the ropes.  His girlfriend was a petite thing and he tied her quickly and well.  He ended up suspending her from a wire placed above the room for that purpose.  It was an interesting scene to watch.

After they were done, Mr. D and I walked about the dungeon looking into all the rooms. We saw a woman from the class with her Dominant.  She was absolutely gorgeous and we had both remarked on her looks during the class.  Her Dominant had her stretched over a pummel horse and was doing different things to her.  Things like flogging and spanking but the interesting part to me was that we watched him punch her repeatedly in the back.  It wasn’t like he was angry at all.  It was a part of their sensation play.  I commented to Mr. D and he knew about that type of play.  He said it was impact play and gives a release similar to massage.  

Mr. D asked the DM (Dungeon Master – a person in charge of monitoring the play in the dungeon) how we could use a room. At this dungeon, they had white boards at each door so you simply wrote your name on the board and then you had an hour.  We took the last open room.  It had dark painted walls, a couch and a large massage table. 

“Take off your skirt and your top baby girl.  You can leave on whatever else you like.” I stripped off my skirt, my top, and my bra.  I stood before him in a black thong and strappy black shoes with silver studs.  I’m not sure why I left the shoes on.  I suppose for effect but I later regretted it.  It was a challenge being bent over in the shoes.

“Bend over the table.” His hands caressed me and prepped my skin for the flogger.  Even though I’m a chunky girl, I felt completely fine stripping down in the dungeon. Mr. D puts me at such ease.  His clearly apparent desire for me and his admiration of my curves puts any hesitation I would normally have right out of my mind. If he wants me naked, I get naked.  I’m his to do with as he pleases and to show off as he wishes.

He flogged me for a good amount of time.  There were a few times where he hit me with the flogger and the falls rapped around my body and it stung across my waist and my stomach.  This is very unusual.  Mr. D is very skilled with one handed flogging.  He told me later that all the practice we had done in class has worn out his arm.  He tried a couple left handed strikes to test out his non-dominant arm but clearly did not have the same control.

He had all his implements laid upon the bed next to my head.  I knew what was there, the floggers, the little silicon whip and the stingy hand paddle. He used the little whip and I felt the stinginess more deeply than during the flogging.  The flogging he gave me was hard but there is a different level of sting with the whip.  Then he rubbed the smooth paddle on my ass.  I moaned.

“Yes, you know what that is, don’t you? Beg me for the paddle.”

“Please Daddy, please give me the paddle.” 

He paddled me with it then.  I squirmed and tried to get away from the stingy thing at first.  It has such a concentrated sting and he knows my aversion to it.  Then something happened.  I told myself not to squirm away.  I tried to stay still no matter how much I wanted to flee it.  The more I did that the more I began to like it and want more.

Mr. D stopped and ran his hands over my red ass.  He whispered in my ear and pressed his body into mine.  “I want you baby girl.” His fingers pushed into my sex.  “Mmm, you’re wet.”

“I want you too Daddy.  Please fuck me.” I moaned and pushed my ass into him as proof.

“I want to, but where baby girl?” 

“Right here Daddy, oh please.”

“No baby girl, not here.” 

I sighed.  I ached for him.  I needed him inside me right then.  I could care less who was watching through the doorway.  It probably helped that I was bent over, couldn’t see them and Daddy’s scent and dominance filled my head.

Mr. D was stopping.  We weren’t going to have sex and he was stopping.  I wanted him and I wanted more.  My odd change of heart with the stingy paddle still had my attention.

“Please Daddy may I have more of the paddle?” My voice was soft so he made me ask again.  I really wanted it.  He agreed and took the paddle to my ass fiercely. It was incredible.  The heat, the pain and the sting were palpable.  I was beyond the fear and I wanted every hit he gave me.  I loved it all, took it all.

Afterwards, he gave me aftercare and we said our goodbyes. On the way home Mr. D said, “I was really surprised you asked for the paddle again.”

“So was I.”

Instigator – Part II

I met Mr. D and the rest of the group back in the living room. I was horny for him yet mollified that he wouldn’t fuck me right then. I felt hot and flushed. I felt teased and tormented. I’m pretty sure I was right where he wanted me to be. We sat in the living room as a group around the table where Mr. D had dropped all of our play toys the night before. His flogger was there. The slapper he made was also there and the little silicon whip. He also placed the plug that he uses to gag me with on the table. It is a butt plug that has attachments that vibrate and also blow it up to anchor it. I love it and hate it. It received many cringed exclamations from the ladies the night before. Clearly, Mr. D meant to raise the level of interest of everyone by leaving everything out on the table. He thrives on being an instigator. He has played with some of this group before and their level of play had gone down quite a bit since he moved away. He was excited to be the motivating force again. 
While we were eating breakfast that morning, I had pointed out a small round end table in the room. It seemed the perfect size to use as a spanking bench. It received many spicy comments during the day. So, it felt natural when Mr. D set the table in the middle of the room. He took his implements and set them nearby on the kitchen table. The room had gotten much quieter by then. Each person’s eyes were on him and their thoughts were their own. Mine were rising in the level of excitement I was feeling. I knew he would be using me to perform for them. I felt a deep buzzing in my belly. Not nervousness exactly just the anticipation of what was to come.
He approached me and took my hand. I held his as he pulled me up from the couch. He faced me and asked, “Are you okay with this?” his lips kissing me and then waiting for my nod. I wanted this very much. He pushed my dress down my body until I stood naked before him. He led me to the table where I bent over and put my elbows on the surface to brace myself. My head fell forward and my hair fell around my face. It was a meager protection from the realization that my body was exposed to all in the room. Mr. D’s hand trailed across my back and pushed the rest of my hair out of his way. His strong hands caressed my back and my buttocks. I felt his touch over every inch of my exposed skin. His ministrations were meant to calm me but also to awaken the blood flow.
I heard him lift the flogger and knew what was coming. He trailed the falls across my back. I sighed because I love this very much and couldn’t wait for him to begin. The first thud felt amazing. He layered the hits across my back and my butt and my thighs. His free hand would touch and sooth and cover my neck for protection all while he continued to flog me. I heard only silence in the room. Nothing but the sounds of the flogger hitting my body and the occasional release of my breath filled the space. I was sure the others were intent on watching us even though I couldn’t see them. My mind would wander from the flogging to Daddy back to the room full of friends. I wondered what Coupe thought of all this? He was the only one who had never seen a flogging before. I wondered how they were looking at my body. I knew all three girls had experienced flogging before and El Jefe was experienced in wielding a flogger himself.
Then Mr. D switched to using the little whip. It is really stingy and it made me jump under his strikes. I moaned and exhaled my exclamations at the stinging hits. I couldn’t resist moving. I arched my back and rose up on my toes at different times. I didn’t want to distract him and tried not to move too much but something about being his victim this way made me want to writhe for him. I couldn’t help it. Following the whip, he used his hand. I love the feel of his hand on me. When he spanks with his hand it is warm and the connection is so intense. I love that we both feel it and that there’s give to the impact. Also, there’s a harder impact from his hand. The full weight of his swing thuds into my body and there is a visceral connection to him in that. It’s the epitome of being manhandled. 
During this exhibition, I know he was talking to the room. He was telling them about each implement. He was describing the different sensations. I remember hearing him say that spanking with your hand is always a good choice and builds the connection. I was mainly focused on the sensations though and after a while his voice only registered to me if he was talking directly to me. During the pain, my mind tends to become very narrow in its focus, like I’m in a tunnel and can only see the light at the end.
Finally, Mr. D used the spanker that he made. It is a long piece of buffalo leather folded in two and sewn together with an added handle. The strikes from the spanker are stingy over a larger surface so it delivers quite a punch. He laid the full length of the flogger on my back while he used the spanker. The heaviness of the flogger on me was an implied anchor. It fixed me in place and kept me immobile. As he spanked me with his new toy, I let my voice have freedom. I had no choice. I needed to moan and cry out. I felt myself slipping into sub space and I felt my body begin to want the pain, to crave the next strike instead of flinch from it. I pushed out my ass towards him and took all that he gave me. Too soon, it was over and his hand was caressing my hot, welted skin and removing the flogger from my back.
“Take your time and when you’re ready, you can rise from the table.” He was right there beside me as I rose. His arm steadied me as he led me back to the couch. I was smiling and sated. My body was hot and my mind drifted. He sat with me on the couch so I could cleave to him and come back down. I only wanted to hold him and close my eyes but I was curious about the others and so I looked around.
Painted Lady said, “That was amazing, thank you Mr. D.” There were many nods and sounds of approval from the room. “You are really much more of a pain slut than I’ve ever been.” She said. The others also said very nice things and thanked Mr. D for giving them a show and teaching them about his technique. I felt so happy that I had pleased him and given everyone something to enjoy. I loved being publicly nude for him. I felt amazing serving as his baby girl in this way. It was a new level of service and I felt so proud of myself for how I did. The more he asks me to serve in different ways the more I want to do that for him.

Instigator – Part One

Mr. D and I had a perfect long weekend with our friends in Mexico.  We were with El Jefe, Goddess and another couple.  Daddy asked me, while we were planning for the weekend, what toys I wanted him to bring.  I said, “All of them.” 🙂 Well, he did ask.  Can’t hurt to have options, right?  We drove down to a resort on the inland sea and had a penthouse suite with a room for each couple, a kitchen and two balconies.  It was a big slice of heaven. The first night, after dinner, we were all sitting together and talking.  Mr. D told the others that I asked him to bring all the toys.  It was a good opener.  He proceeded to lay out all the toys on the coffee table one-by-one.  Three of the four others are into the lifestyle occasionally and have played with Mr. D at one time.  The fourth, Coupe, was our unknown.  He knows the group is kinky but we didn’t really know his level of interest.

Everyone was interested in the toys, especially the violet wand.  The one we have is not the high powered kind.  It is more for sensory play.  Painted Lady was quite interested.  She made noises and Mr. D pushed her to try it.  It was fun watching him educate the group and watch them play with the wand on Painted Lady.  We wrapped up the evening and went to sleep.

The next day, we went down to the pool.  The pool had a swim up bar and the three girls and Coupe went down first.  I had met Painted Lady once before but I learned much more about her this trip.  She has beautiful, flawless skin and is a little standoffish in the way of an elegant lady.  It gives Mr. D endless entertainment to continually push her buttons.  Goddess wasn’t feeling perfectly well so we were watching out for her.  She hadn’t felt good the night before but the frilly drinks at the bar were helping us all feel good.  Coupe is a younger man.  Younger than most of our group by 15 years.  He’s new to the lifestyle but not new to being a young man in a very adult world.  He has the aura of the Rat Pack, classy and quick with a comeback.  On the flipside, he seems so innocent and we all want to protect him and corrupt him at the same time.

So, the four of us drank and played in the pool.  The drunker we got the more fun we had.  We talked about the play from the night before and that heightened the sexual atmosphere.  I knew Goddess was bisexual but I didn’t know how Painted Lady leaned.  Not until we started talking and floating in the pool.  After a while, we got silly and all three ladies ended up kissing and fondling and talking about sex.  At one point, Painted Lady was rubbing Coupe’s back so nicely that his face naturally slipped under the water.  Goddess was feeling no pain and said, “He can hold his breath so well, he must be really good at eating pussy.” Painted Lady tried to warn her but just then Coupe pulled his face from the water, his ears hadn’t been below the surface.  He heard that just fine!  They both turned eight shades of red while we all had a good laugh.

After that, Mr. D and El Jefe joined us in the pool.   I was having so much dirty, flirty fun and was so happy to see my Daddy and wrap myself around him in the pool.  I wanted to molest him right there. After a bit, the men decided to go back up and start dinner.  The girls eventually stumbled back up to the room.  We all ate a great dinner Mr. D made and were relaxing. Then Mr. D caught my attention and said, “Baby girl, go get the rope.” I was excited.  He was going to tie someone up.  Goddess and I both are addicted to being tied up.  We had talked about it at the pool.  Mr. D and her husband, El Jefe, had both tied her up before.  I went to the bathroom first. I didn’t want to be tied up and have to go.  So, I stopped there and then went into the bedroom to get his rope.  Mr. D was waiting in the bedroom for me.  He surprised me.  I didn’t expect him there because he had sent me after the rope for him.  “Close the door.” The tone in his voice sent shivers up my spine.  He makes me so wet when he talks like that.  I closed the door. “On your back.”  He pushed up my dress and sank his face into my pussy.  I was drunk, I was horny and I wanted him.  I forgot everything else.  He licked me for a couple minutes then he started to leave.

“No, Daddy, don’t go!!” I grabbed him with both hands and legs.  I needed him and needed to be fucked.  I would do anything in that moment.  “Please Daddy, I need you.  Please, please fuck me.”

“No, baby girl, we have to go back.  They’re waiting for us.” He was pulling away.  This was killing me.  I wanted him, I had to have him.

“Come back Daddy, please fuck me Daddy.  I need you in me.” I pulled and he finally gave in and climbed up on me.  I kept pulling on him until I felt his cock slide into me.  “Yes, Daddy, yes”.

“Baby girl is horny and begging.  Mmm, now this is how you’re supposed to beg.  I’ll have to thank Goddess for this.” He thrust deep, once, twice, then pulled out to leave.

“No!  Daddy, no! Come back!” I was beyond desperate.  The torment and teasing in my minute of aching need was beyond a tease.  I grabbed him hard and pulled his body to me.  I took his hands and put them around my throat.  I would have done damned near anything right at the moment to keep him there.

“Mmm, baby girl is pulling out all the stops.  I like this a lot but it’s time to go back out. Straighten yourself and join the others.” He got up and pulled his shorts back on and left.  I laid there on the bed bereft.  He was a bad, evil Daddy.  My rum soaked mind pouted and sulked.  I was the epitome of a spoiled baby girl in the bedroom all alone.

I went back out and joined the others completely forgetting about the rope.

Exhibitionism – He Missed Me

I was gone on vacation for a week. I didn’t get to see or talk to Mr. D during that time because I was out at sea. We emailed but that was it. He felt distant from me. I spent a great deal of the time I was gone sleeping. I’m sure I needed the downtime after all the hospital time and funeral planning, etc.

I knew I’d be able to see Mr. D on Friday night once I got back. I dropped my luggage at home and got on the road to him. I didn’t shave, I didn’t dress from him. I didn’t want to take any time away from seeing him. I was too eager to be with him to wait any longer.

Mr. D’s home has a front yard that is surrounded by walls. You walk in a bamboo swing gate next to the garage. Each side of the courtyard is walled. The house is in the back and the garage in the front. The sides are five foot tall brick walls. On one side is another home and the other has a walkway that leads to a park. The gate has no latch and is private enough until you’re in the driveway then you can see right through the bamboo. Mr. D mentioned that we’d have the house to ourselves as his roommates would be gone. As I pushed through the gate, Mr. D was sitting in the courtyard smoking a cigar. He smiled as I stepped close and leaned down to kiss him in greeting. Aromatic smoke wafted from his cigar and the flavor of tobacco was on his lips. I love a man who smells of masculine things. As I pulled away from our kiss, he put his hand on the back of my neck and pulled my head down close so that his lips grazed my ear. “Go freshen up, put on a skirt with no panties and return to me.”

I felt my legs weaken as I said, “Yes Daddy” and took myself into the house. Quickly, I did as I was told. I knew then that he had plans and it made me weak to think about what they were. I put on a tight stretchy pink skirt with no panties and went back out to stand before him. He smoked his cigar in a leisurely fashion and nodded. “Nice choice.” He reached his hand down to a duffel bag on the ground next to his chair. Oh, I was in for it. He had it filled with many unknown things. He pulled out a leather blindfold and handed it to me. The order was implicit. I put on the blindfold and made sure I couldn’t see. I was relieved for it actually. He loves sex in public and it makes me incredibly nervous. We were fairly protected in his courtyard but anyone could walk down the pathway and look over the wall or come in the gate at any time. It brought butterflies alive in my belly. But I’m a good girl and I agreed to the terms of being his submissive so here I was, blindfolded in the front yard.

Next I felt something encircle my neck. Wait a minute, what is this? A collar? He has never put one on me before. He loves to torment the fiercely vulnerable areas on my neck and has said he may never put a collar on me because it would interfere. I felt the leather on my neck and I slipped deeply into a submissive state. I’ve only had a collar put on me one other time. A Dom friend was showing me a posture collar he bought for his wife. When he buckled it on my neck, the same thing happened. I was putty. It’s the strangest reaction. I don’t know if it’s the vulnerability of my neck, all the inherent meanings of a collar or a combination of the two but it drops me into another place. It’s powerful to me and elicits a powerful reaction. He tugged on the back of the collar after it was buckled. “Mmm, I like that. Do you?” Yes, yes, yes, I nodded. Yes, liked it very much.

“Pull up your skirt, turn around and sit down.” I felt behind me and there was a chair for me. I pulled my skirt up until he could see my sex and sat down on the edge of the chair. “Spread your legs and lean back.” I did as told all the while thinking about that fact that it was broad daylight and anyone could see me if they looked over the wall. I heard him rummage in his bag and felt him lay something across my thighs. He pulled up my blouse and saw that I was wearing a basic, latch in the front bra. “Nice choice.” He said as he unhooked my bra and pushed it back on each side to expose my breasts. I reclined before him, blindfolded, collared and exposed. My sex, my thighs and my breasts were presented to him. I heard him take another drag on his cigar and smelled the smoke waft over me as he took in the sight of his handy work.

“My slut finally came home to Daddy. I missed you lady. There was something about you being gone where I couldn’t get at you at all.” His fingers tweaked my nipples and made them hard. He caressed them and teased them while his voice filled my mind. Then his hands were on my thighs bringing my nerve endings alive. His hands caressed up from my knees all the way to my exposed sex. His fingers pushed into me, dry and harsh. It made me moan and roll my hips so that he had a smoother pathway inside me. Wetness rushed to meet his touch. His thumb rubbed my hard little nub further rousing me.

“You like that don’t you slut?” I moaned my approval.

“Yes, Daddy.”

He slapped my thighs one after the other. The sting was shocking. It had been over a week and my body was not in the same mode. It was in vanilla mode. I hadn’t mentally prepared for this at all. I winced and whimpered. “Give me your hand.” I raised my hand from the chair where I gripped it and held it out in front of me. He grabbed my wrist and pushed my hand into my sex. “Rub your clit for me.” I did as asked. I moved my fingers around until my clit was positioned and I could rub it back and forth as he wanted. He took another drag on his cigar. Then I heard the sound of camera clicks. Oh shit, he’s taking pictures of me like this exposed in the front yard.

Again my thighs were slapped, and then I felt the stings of the tiny whip. It is an implement similar to a silicon basting brush. It is a tiny whip with long silicon falls. It looks like an innocent toy but stings like a motherfucker when wielded right. The whip teased my nipples and thighs intermittently. I gasped and moaned and every so often he’d stop and take more pictures. The picture taking added more to the level of exhibitionism he was demanding of me. It felt invasive and hot at the same time. I didn’t think I looked my best, such a female thought, but I knew he loved me in this position and under his control. Also, that I was completely exposed and he could do as he wanted without me having a choice.

“Your pussy is stubbly. You never come over like that. That’s cute.” He said. I cringed. I had rushed to get to him. I hadn’t prepared myself. And now there were stubbly pictures as proof. Oh well, I thought. I always end up paying for your mistakes.

“I asked you to masturbate and cum for me at least once while you were gone, did you?” I cringed again, caught. I had been completely immersed in mom-mode. He knows me too well. He knew I’d probably not made any time for myself. I was caught red-handed. I swear he reads me like a prized dog-eared book. I should know what’s coming but I only see the chain of events in hindsight.

“Stand and face the chair.” I stood and turned around. “Bend over, hands on the chair.” He rummaged in his bag again. His hand caressed my ass then spanked me. It stung a little but I love the feel of his hand on my ass. I could ‘endure’ that all day. Of course, he knows that simply by my reactions. Then I felt an earnest sting. No! Not the hand paddle! It is a polished disc of wood with a strap around the back. It fits snuggly to the palm of his hand and I hate it. He gripped the back of the collar and pulled hard so that my back arched and my ass was presented. “Mmm, I like this collar idea. I may need to rethink that.” He peppered both ass cheeks with stingy biting spanks from the paddle. I held onto the chair and squirmed away from the torture as best I could. As long as the hits didn’t fall on the same spot it was endurable but he knows how to punish. Many times the paddle fell on the same hurting, stinging places.

“Turn around.” I rose from the chair and turned to face him legs like Jello. I had pulled my shirt down to straighten myself up.

“I didn’t say you could do that.” My inner little girl winced at the tone.

“No Daddy. I’m sorry Daddy.”

“When you write about this, because you will write about this, you will post one of these pictures with the post.  Understand?”  I nodded.

He took off the blindfold and I blinked up at him. My eyes growing accustomed to the sun again. “I missed you slut. I’m happy you’re home.” He pulled me close by the collar kissing me gently with passion and pulled me into his embrace. I felt tears and happiness streaming inside me. I was home.