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 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. 

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.  

Come Slut

I’m not sure how the mood turned but it did.  The smell of sex permeated in minutes.  

I sucked his cock after permission was given.  My tongue, my throat, his silky hard cock.  I was entranced.  I savored every lick, the stretch of my throat, my restricted breathing.

“On your belly, baby girl.” I felt languid from touching him.  I rolled over presenting him my ass, thighs, back.  His hands caressed, his eyes ravished.  I breathed in his pheromones.

The vibe materialized under me.  Pushed up between my thighs. It coaxed and cajoled my sex.  But his words, oh his words, those seduced my mind. “Are you my whore?  Yes, you are.  That’s a good whore.  You’re going to be my good little cum whore and give me what I want.”

His fingers curled into the close hairs at the nape of my neck and pulled my head up.  His teeth grazing the side of my neck as venom dripped from his lips.  “My good slut, feel it, take it.  Give me what I want.  You want to, I know.” 

His hand released the adder’s grip from my neck and pushed my face into the sheets.  His face pushed between my ass cheeks, his tongue assaulted my asshole.  My back arched on its own, opening me to him while vibrations continued their relentless affair under me.

“I should just fuck your ass right now, no warm up, and listen to you whimper.” His finger slid into my tight hole.  He knew how that threat would scare me, excite me. I feared him tearing me, but I ached for him stretching me wide.  Oh, the dichotomy.  My pussy spasmed with every threat. 

His finger fucked my ass.  The intense sensations from ass to clit were turning my soul. Rolling her like swine in slop.  “Dirty girl, you’d like me to take your ass.  You want to be my dirty whore.  Such a good little dirty whore you are.”

He pushed the vibrator up high and tight on my throbbing clit.  I would not take long, I was gone.  Only a dirty slut remained pinned under him. I responded to him now, the frenzy was upon me. “Yes Daddy, I’m your dirty girl, dirty girl. Wicked dirty girl.” I spoke in tongues to my Devil, my captor.

“Yes, my little cum whore, you want to give me your come don’t you?” He spanked me hard, once, twice, thrice, in staccato succession.  “Give it to me.”

My body convulsed, I continued to spew filth as the orgasm tore through my body and mind.  Hot sticky glorious waves of pleasure.  He pushed me down on the vibe knowing I’d want it gone now.  “No, take it, ride it.”  Fuck! Please let it stop, I can’t take it.

I kept coming with his hand pressing me down.  I rode the storm.  My mental ship and all her crew tossed on the churning, roiling tide.  The vibe stopped, it must have.  Breathing became my world.  His warmth and caress my heaven. 

“That’s right.  Good girl.  You did very well.  Such a good girl.” I wrapped myself in him.  His love, his approval.  My bliss.

A Prayer For Submission

Disturb me, my Master, when I am too well pleased with myself; when my dreams have come true because I have dreamed too little; when I have arrived safely because I have only sailed along the shore.

Disturb me, my Master, when with the abundance of the stresses I endure, I have lost my thirst for the dark passions of life.

Stir me, my Master, to dare more boldly, to venture on wider seas, where storms will show your mastery; where losing sight of land, I shall find the stars.

I beg you to push back the horizons of my hopes and to push me into the future in strength, courage, and love. 

Open my heart to the love instilled there. My Master loves me tenderly. What he owns is to be kept under lock and key or to be shared as is his wish.

The more I hold back the less I will experience. The more I share, the more I will know service. Let me ask Him, when it comes to asking for something, to help me to be willing.

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. 

Beginning

My goal for today is to post each day.  Even if it’s just a few words.

Seasoned writers say, just get it on the page.  It may not be pretty or polished but that’s not the point.  The point is to be consistent. That is my lesson here.  Consistent dedication to my goals is my challenge.  So, this is today’s beginning. 

Writing a blog about a Dominant submissive relationship when it is going to become a long distance relationship is going to stretch my skills…as well as stretching my emotions and everything else that goes along with this. 

As long as I keep writing, I can get through this.  We can get through this.  I will continue to be as open as possible.  Writing will help us stay connected, stay bonded.  I will do whatever it takes to keep us together.  This is the beginning.