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. 

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. 


Ever start writing with the intention of saying one thing only to end up writing about an entirely different thing? Yeah, me too. That’s what happened in my last post.  I fully had the intention of writing something that fit with the title I gave it. But that’s not what came out.

I think when I haven’t written in a long time all the thoughts and feelings I would have written about are still bottled up inside.  I begin writing after a dry spell and once the first jammed up words are out all the other words come spurting out in all directions.  Yes, the visual there was intentional.  It IS a sex blog after all.

My title Sex, what’s that? was a lame segue from a long hiatus to writing about Daddy’s task for me tonight. But my emotions dragged me off elsewhere. It happens.  

We were family Facetiming and the sneaky man was able to give me direction in code to masturbate tonight for him.  It occurred to me after we disconnected that (1) the man is talented in running multiple layer conversations and (2) it has been a holy hell of a long time since I masturbated well.  

How does that happen?  I think I’m a fairly sex-driven individual.  How does that just turn off when he’s not around?  I know I was work and family focused but sheesh…sad. It’s been several weeks of blah.  I had a couple random vibrator/porn moments but I think I also fell asleep more than once thinking about masturbating without actually having bothered.  Lame. 

So, I have a task to do and I must find my mojo because I was directed to do it well. 

On a Plane

I’m on a plane to see my Daddy!! Woo! Stay tuned! 

I can’t wait to see him!

It’s been a hell of a week.  So glad to be on my way to him, yay.

I’m full of nervous energy.  It’s been three weeks.  I don’t think we’ve ever been apart this long.  

I talked yesterday to Goddess about the four of us living together.  They may move too.  Wouldn’t that be so amazing!?! We’d have a home full of kinky people.  How awesome would that be?

To have a true leather family would be a dream come true.  What an amazing possibility.  

I love where my life is heading. I love having Mr. D so we can grow old together. 

Life is so full of possibility.  


Mr. D and I arrived to our hotel on Wednesday.  We are attending a Vegas Bash having to do with body acceptance for bigger people.  He’s been part of this community many years and I’m only being introduced to it this year.  In his past, he’s enjoyed many trysts at the bashes with many people.  He is the life of the party and many know him and his crew here. I had heard about the bashes for a long time and this would be my first one. 

We got to our room and were unpacking our luggage.  Mr. D sat in a sofa chair and beckoned me over.  “Kneel,” he said.  I knelt in between his legs. “This week is about us.  We are going to have fun and relax and enjoy our family.  This week is about you and about me. No one else.”  I smiled and nodded and put my arms around him.  I have so much love for this man.  He makes me feel so loved and protected and cared for in so many ways.

From what Daddy has told me, bashes can end up being a lot of partying and sex.  Many hook-ups happen and since we are an open couple and he’s been promiscuous at bashes in the past, he was setting the tone for how we would behave at this event.  I felt my heart swell with joy that he wanted just me for this bash.  That won’t always be the case, he is desired by many.  I felt so cradled within his affection and care through his words and choice.

“You may rise,” he said.  As soon as I kissed him and returned to unpacking he called me back. “Wait, I wasn’t done with you.”  He pointed to the floor and I knelt before him again.  “Close your eyes.” I obeyed and knelt waiting.  “Ok, open them.”

When I looked up he had a white jewelry box on his chest.  He had a smile on his face.  “Open it.” Inside were the most beautiful diamond and emerald earrings.  They have a floating emerald that moves and sparkles in the light with a swath of diamonds curling around it.  The sides are filigreed in a delicate pattern of swoops and curls.  They are the most beautiful earrings I’ve ever seen. I didn’t know what to say, they were so beautiful.  He had gotten me a charm for my charm bracelet to commemorate our trip already.

I fumbled my words. “Oh Daddy, they are beautiful. You already got me the charm.”  How could he be so wonderful?  How do I deserve such a man and such gifts?

“I can spoil you.  You’d better get used to it because you’re mine.”  I beamed and my heart did a little happy dance in my chest.  I put them on.  As luck would have it, I brought three green dresses for the occasions of the bash.  It didn’t really matter what I wore though because I knew I wasn’t taking those earrings off. 

I love him so.  He doesn’t need to shower me with jewels just having him is the best gift I could hope for.  


He lights a candle and holds it close.  The light is soft and lures me.  I bask in the glow.  Once he feels me respond to his subtle little flame, he adds more fuel.  

The brightness shines a light over my soul.  He looks ever so closely and sees all of me.  He sees what I want to show, he sees what I hide.  He finds my fears and notices the barriers of my walls. 

A flame thus ignites within me. I respond in kind to his beacon.  I quake in fear that he sees me, that he knows my every secret.  But his light continues to shine bright as day even though my sins are now exposed. 

I see now that he will not turn away.  He wants my sin, he wants my hidden terrors.  He wants my dirty, rotten imperfections.  I roll like a swine in mud.  He grants me freedom to be the basest of pitiful things.

His high beam of stark honesty and vision ignites.  He takes the clay before him and carves out the pure beast within.  His talons grip me, his voracious fire consumes me.  I burn, oh how I burn in his realm.

From the fire emerges a passion that seeks its match and finds it in him.  Red and tumultuous, hot and painful it engulfs us.  The flames lick and eat and take their fill.  The eager coals smolder and deprive me of all my air.

I pant and rut.  His fire turns me on a spit.  Every basted bit is lashed by his words and his tongue.  No reason allows me succor. My thoughts, my being,  the primordial spark of me bends to him.

He fears losing control.  I can’t help him with that.  All my heart and morbid desires want him to lose himself and break me.  Each speck of glorious light I sense in him is answered with a raging wildfire.  

Heaven help me, he called me an angel.  But all I want is to grovel at his feet, to debase myself completely.  The fiber of my mind crackles in the viscous lava of my subservience to him.

Please, I beg of you, destroy all meaning.  Tear my walls and protections from me.  His voice stirs wicked desires.  His dirty words bind me to him for all eternity.  I fall deeper into the abyss gladly. 

Orgasm Training

Daddy put me in his big chair legs spread wide. He took the Hitachi out.  That damned torture device that he bought to work on my orgasms.  It is so very intense.  The vibration is so very intense.  Did I say it was intense? Damn, well it is.  He made me put my arms above my head.  I wasn’t allowed to touch him.  He knows how much that gets to me.  There is some visceral drugged feeling I get from touching him.  I need to feel his body under my hands.  I need to feel the soft fur and the hard muscle.  I need to feel his unique maleness.  I love that I can touch him in whatever way he allows…until he doesn’t allow me.  Then it drives me insane just the way he wants.

With my fingers laced together on top of my head, I leaned back in his chair with my legs over the arm rests. His fingers pushed inside me while he had the Hitachi turned on low placed on my clit.  The intense vibrations began to do their work.  His fingers began to fuck me slowly.  I moaned as my eyes met his.  Mine begged him silently to let me touch him.  He chuckled and shook his head.

“Poor little tortured girl. Daddy isn’t nice to you, is he?”

“No, Daddy, you aren’t.” I smiled beside myself…in spite of myself. He brings out the pouty little girl in me something fierce.  God, how I love to be that girl with him.  It ramps up the fervor of our play to a different pitch.  Mmm, I love that.

The vibrations were lifting the passion from me, making my body respond quickly. I had no control.  My usual hesitation or my mind’s reticence to let go were thrown out the window.  My control was relinquished to him.  His fingers fucked me harder and just when I felt my body responding and a rhythm coursing through me, he turned up the speed on the Hitachi.

“No! Oh please no Daddy.  No…no more, not that.” Why do I beg?  I beg for it to stop but my body is responding.  My orgasm is imminent.  He is ripping it right out of me.  I want it.  I want to give it to him but still I beg.  “Oh God, no Daddy…I’m cumming, I’m cumming!” I pant and pant and the orgasm is ripped from me by him and by that tormenting machine.

“That’s good baby girl. You did very well. I could feel your muscles grab my fingers inside you.  That was really nice.” He turns off the machine and holds me for a moment.  This is the second or third time he’s gotten me to orgasm this way.  The Hitachi is a horribly effective machine for this training he is doing.  He’s slowly retraining me and my body to respond to him. “Get on your back on the bed.”

With my body still vibrating on its own, I got on the bed on my back. My ass was on the edge of the bed, my legs hanging off as he wanted.  He lifted them and held my thighs while he leaned down and tasted my juices.  I heard happy noises as he licked me.  I was so hyper-sensitive that when his tongue touched my clit I nearly jumped off the bed.  I had no idea he’d go there again so soon.  I squirmed and tried to stay still but it was so, so sensitive.  So, I held my breath and did everything I could not to fight it.  Soon my body began to respond again.  His tongue was flicking back and forth on my clit bringing me close to the edge again.

He rose up and pushed his cock inside me. As he fucked me he reached around and grabbed the Hitachi again.  My eyes were completely round orbs at the sight of it.  No, no, no my mind railed but I said nothing.  I knew it was hopeless to complain or beg at that point.  He was going to have what he wanted.  He fit the machine between us and turned it on.  He resumed fucking me while the evil machine worked its relentless magic.

My body responded faster this time. He had me primed, he was fucking me which I love so much and the vibrations kept on coming.  Ever so quickly I felt my body rise, the sensations peak.  I felt the orgasm come on and finally crash upon me.  “I’m cumming Daddy! I’m cumming.”

“Mmm, I know baby doll. I know.”

That was the first time I’ve ever cum with someone inside me. I’m so fortunate to have such an imaginative and persistent lover.  He told me we’d figure it out and he was relentless in finding different ways work the problem.  He made it part of our play and tormented me with it and in the end he found a way to begin to break down my barriers.  I’m incredibly blessed to be His.

The Drive

On the drive home from Mexico something happened.  Mr. D told me to play with myself.  I leaned back in the car seat next to him with one foot up on the dash and my skirt hiked up. My fingers buried in my sex.  

The music played.  The cars went drifting past on either side.  My fingers rubbed my clit and Mr. D’s voice filled my head. “Rub your clit and pinch your nipple.  You’re going to cum for me.  Do you understand?” I nodded and watched as his eyes met mine then went back to the road. My fingers moved faster on my clit.  I had been practicing playing with myself so I could cum for him.  I desperately wanted to please him.  My body was slow to start and became even more sluggish under the pressure to perform.  God I hope I can do this for him.  Tune out everything and cum for Daddy.  You can do this, you have practiced for this!

His fingers joined mine in my crotch, his pushing inside me.  It felt provocative and erotic to have him finger fucking me in the car traveling down the highway. “Keep those fingers moving slut,  you’re going to cum for me.” This was intense and still my body was not reacting nearly enough to cum.  I was hot and flustered, wet and gushing on his fingers but I was starting to worry more than enjoy this. 

He took his hand from my pussy and sucked on his fingers, tasting me.  That was hot.  It thrills me to see him do that. Every time. He picked up his phone. I lifted my head and watched him, trying to understand.  He never picks up his phone while driving.  “Keep going slut.”  I went back to playing with myself as commanded.

I heard the radio change from music to someone talking. I realized after a few words that it was the audio of our favorite porn scene.  I had found a scene where an Immigration Agent coerces a young hot woman to have sex with him so he won’t deport her.  It’s the perfect predicament scenario, the kind Mr. D  and I both love.  The male actor in it is an especially mean SOB and treats her to some intense dominance and rough sex.  It is so hot and raw.  I didn’t have to see it, just hearing it was exactly what I needed.

“Now, my little slut.  You are going to cum for me or you are going to beg me to stop.  Do you understand?  One or the other. Got it?”  I nodded vigorously.

“Yes Daddy.” My fingers flew over my clit.  I ached to please him and now the sounds of that sadistic agent fucking the girl’s throat filled the car.  I moaned along with her.

“Listen to that Motherfucker feed her his cock. I want to do that to you right now.” His fingers pumped me while I continued to rub my aching clit.  The raw sounds of throat fucking and Daddy’s voice in my ear were winding me up like a top. We sped through the desert at top speed passing dozens and dozens of trucks.  I’m sure many truckers that day got a fine show. My body arched, my foot pushing into the dash, my ass lifting off the seat.  I was on the edge of cumming.

“Get it baby girl, my little slut. Listen to him.  Listen to what he’s doing to her. He is not a nice man. I’m not a nice man either.  You are going to cum or beg me.  Better start begging me now.” His fingers pumped me hard.  My body was convulsing, my mind was completely soaked with the horrendous need to cum and still my body would not plunge over the edge.  This insanity was going to push me over some edge but to where I had no idea.

His hand moved to my breasts.  He pulled up my shirt and grabbed the closest nipple hard.  I cried out but oh how I needed that pain.  His hand slapped my nipple and grabbed it again.  The pain and pleasure of it together were so provocative.

“Please Daddy, please.” The sounds of wild fucking filled the car.  I wanted him, I couldn’t see straight, my body was buckling under the pressure and still I didn’t cum.  I trembled and begged him. “Please Daddy, please let me stop.” I sobbed with sadness and need and desperation.  “Please fuck me Daddy.  I need you inside me.” My fingers kept moving, I had to keep going until he said I could stop.

As I heard the sounds of the woman on the stereo crying and cumming, I opened my eyes and saw Mr. D pull off a freeway exit.  Thank God, yesssss. He was getting off the freeway, I was wild to have him.  My sex addled brain rejoiced.

“Baby girl, you can stop.” I felt relief and disappointment and heat and damn I wanted him.  He pulled into a turn around off a dirt road and parked.  He pulled back his seat and unzipped his pants.  He looked at me and I knew the command.  I leaned over and took his cock in my mouth.  Still the porn wailed in our ears, my lips sliding up and down his shaft.  I was ecstatic to have him in my mouth.

After a few minutes he pushed me off of him. His eyes were as passion glazed as mine. “Stay there.” I wondered what he was doing until he got out of the car and opened my door. “Turn on your side and face the inside of the car.” I rolled on my hips as he asked, my ass sticking out of the car door.  He stepped in the car with one foot and lifted me onto his cock.  His pants slipped down and he fucked me hard and fast until he came deep inside me.

He pulled up his pants and returned to his seat.  We had just finished and we’re both still panting and out of breath.  He pulled me to him and said, “You are such a good girl!”  I felt my whole body, mind and heart burst with love and happiness at those words.

And still in the background the moans of porn girl and the rush of the nearby freeway played on.

Instigator – Part III

Mr. D knew that Painted Lady wanted to be flogged, but she was shy and declined.  He was still giving pointers to Coupe and so he said, “Come on up here man, I’ll show you how it feels. Baby girl, will you help?” This was exciting.  I would be able to help please the others.

Coupe took off his shirt and bent over the table.  I stood at his head and ran my hands over his body.  I caressed him and warmed his skin so he would be primed for the flogger.  As I felt him relax I pulled back out of Mr. D’s way.  He flogged Coupe easily and gave him pointers during the flogging. The main point, I think, was to give him a taste so that he could decide if he wanted to be a giver or a receiver in the future. Afterwards, I rubbed him down and stood by in case he needed assistance standing up.

By then, Painted Lady was ready to be flogged.  She took off her dress and left on her panties.  Mr. D had told me that she had been in the lifestyle but wasn’t now.  I caressed her for him as well. He did not go lightly on her. From what I could tell while watching, he gave her quite a bit of what he had given me.  Perhaps the intensity wasn’t as much but I could tell they were both very into it.  As he switched from the flogger to the little whip to the slapper, she grew more and more aroused.  Her hips moved in circles and she was hypnotized by it.  

With both Coupe and Painted Lady I had the opportunity to watch my Love at work.  I got to see him, to watch him wield his weapons and understand more how he gives me the pain and pleasure he does.  He laid the heavy flogger across her back while he used another implement.  I felt its weight just as she did.  I saw his singular focus on her and the task at hand.  I heard his voice talking to the others and watched him hold court.  I was entranced by him. I wanted him and admired him all the more.  It is such a gift that I am his.

After allowing Painted Lady to return to her chair, he asked Goddess if she wished a turn.  I knew she did.  She and I have talked about how much we love this.  When she came up, Mr. D handed the flogger to her husband El Jefe. He rose and Mr. D snuggled next to me.  It was like coming home.  I hadn’t realized how much I missed him beside me until I felt his touch. It was more than my normal need for him.  I’m sure it was the whole evening’s feelings lending to my deeper ache to touch him. We watched the beautiful couple together.  El Jefe is very masculine with broad shoulders and dark hair peppered across his body.  Goddess is tall, taller than me and I’m 5’8″. She has firey dark red hair and gorgeous light blue eyes.  She has long tapering legs and has an erotic aura about her. Watching them dance the dance of the flogger together was quite stirring.

Afterwards, we all talked and shared our thoughts and reflections on the activities of the night.  I am a bit chagrined to mention that I was a little sharp in one comment to Painted Lady.  She made a comment about learning both sides of Dominance and submission, as a way to become a better Dominant. an innocent comment.  I spoke out of turn in response.  I used to think a similar way.  As a submissive, I began my exploration of the lifestyle saying I was a Domme.  But truly I am 100% submissive.  There was no hiding it, I was afraid to admit it and felt very vulnerable until I understood myself more. And Mr. D could never be a submissive.  Could he bottom for someone if needed? Perhaps, but he is a strong Dominant and would not ever change roles.  It is who he is.  I don’t believe one has to try both sides to understand and be skilled in dominating someone.

When we went to our room, we got into bed and Mr. D was on me. He held me passionately and said, “After flogging you, I didn’t want to flog them.  I didn’t want to do anything but take you in here and ravage you.” My heart sang.  I had wanted him to take me from the moment I came back from the pool.  The whole evening had been an agonizing exercise in foreplay.  Our coupling that night was hot and fervent.  I crave the heights of ecstasy we achieve together with a constancy that is ever present.


Mr. D has had the idea of collaring me on his mind since the night he put a makeshift collar on me and loved how I reacted to it. He had me measure my neck a few days ago and yesterday he showed me the materials he bought to make me a collar.  Mr. D is studying leather craft and has devoted so much time to developing his skill that he has gotten amazingly good in a very short period of time.  The collar material is an unfinished belt leather and a red suede kid goat skin.  I love how he thinks of me and my needs and desires.

I have several posts to write about the activity over the past two weeks.  We went to Mexico, we played there and on the way back.  But I started writing those posts and can’t get my mind off this. Yesterday, we played and both times it was beyond intense.  Almost too intense for me.  I came away both times crying and unsure of myself and wondering if I had done what he wanted, or if my reactions were too far over the edge.  After our second time playing, he admitted that he was purposefully harsh and testing me.  He is very concerned about the idea of collaring me and how it will change us.

Yesterday, while we were running errands, he mentioned the last time I reacted negatively to our play.  It was when I felt off about him calling me slut.  When he said, “my slut,” it felt right but just being asked to be a slut felt like it was against my normal level of societal standards. He told me that he’d been very careful since then to always say ‘my’ first. Later when we came home, we were lying together on the bed.  He said, “I don’t know about us living together someday. The way we are together, we’ll never get anything done.” We are both very driven individuals in our own ways.  When we are together, we get lost in each other and the drive seems to be on hold.  It’s really nice but we spend a lot of time in bed!

I wrapped my body around his and whispered, “But I’LL get done,” and laughed.  He pinned me to the bed and began teasing me for that remark.  At some point, in the middle of him pinning me down things got much more serious. He began asking me what I am, telling me what I am. “You’re my slut, aren’t you?” I nodded.  “You’re my cunt, aren’t you?” I nodded again.  He was aroused now and the darkness was on him. “You’re my little bitch in heat. That’s what you are. Aren’t you? Beg me for my little cock, if you want it.” He knows words don’t come to me immediately.  I have to dig myself out and respond as if from the bottom of a well.

“Yes, Daddy, please fuck me.” Weak words barely dribbled out of the sides of my mouth, they were weighted down by my shame and trepidation.

“Not good enough slut. Do you think you deserve my cock with that? Not even close.  You’re going to have to do much better than that.” His hand pushed my head back and his fingers curled around my throat.  I could barely see him out of the corner of my eye but I knew he wasn’t joking now.

“Please Daddy, please fuck me.  Please put your cock in me.” The words gasped out as they had to push against his grip on my throat.  Their struggle to be free of my lips instilled them with more force than I had given them. Still, it was not enough.

“I don’t think I should fuck you, little cunt, you don’t want it.” His fingers were invading my soft folds without mercy. I was dry from running errands and not having my mind on sex at all until this. I whimpered against the pain and the desperation to please him.  I was failing.

“Please Daddy! Please fuck your little slut! Please, I want your cock inside me. Please Daddy!” This time the desperate need pulled the words like tiny rockets from my lips.  They shot past him and filled my ears with the sounds of my aching wantonness.

“That’s better. You’d better be wet.” My heart crushed, I knew I probably wasn’t wet enough. How could I do anything about that now?  He pushed his hard cock into my dry opening and I felt it ripping.  He pulled back and I prayed my body wouldn’t be a traitor.  Pushing into me again, he was in far enough that the quickening of my wetness took hold.  Thank God, I thought. Once the slickness covered his length, I arched my back and felt my body rush to meet his.  I’m ever his slut, all that is needed is his body on mine.  The response is always there, my body is ever his toy and his playground.  I moaned and grabbed ahold of him as he fucked me.

“What are you?” His eyes lanced me to the bed.

“I’m your slut, your whore, your bitch.” I knew my place, I knew the answers, I had my voice.

“Good.” He growled as he thrust repeatedly into me.  He held my feet together, my legs on his chest, my feet to the side of his face.  He looked at me and fucked me through the tight opening he created between my thighs.  I moaned my approval.  He sucked on my toes and it felt incredible.  Never has that been a desire of mine but right then it was so hot.

He let my legs down and put his hands behind my knees.  He pushed them up to my shoulders and thrust deeply into my pelvis.  It feels like he’s splitting me in two when he does that.  His cock goes really far inside me in this position.  It is at once intensely erotic and slightly uncomfortable.  I looked up at him and his eyes were shaded.  He looked at me with a pure intensity.

“Who am I?” The fucking continued unabated.


“Yes.” Deeper thrusting.

“Who am I?” My immediate thought, the one that came rushing in without hesitation, was that he was my Master.  He was in full virile control of me and us.  But, I wasn’t to call him that.  He didn’t want that.  It wasn’t our agreement.  I couldn’t say it.  The words cluttered and bumped around in my throat as I clamped my mouth shut.  But he was still asking.

“Who am I?” His voice was deep and harsh, forceful under tight control. I had no other answer and he was commanding me to respond. He slapped me across the face and it  shocked me deeply.

“Answer me.” He barked.

“Master.” I sobbed out the words. “My Master.” I want this.  He knows I do.  To me he is my Master. Has been for a long time now.  We don’t put it in those terms, though.  But I am his completely.

“Yessss.” He groaned and came hard inside me. After recovering and while still inside me, he said, “I want your mouth on Daddy’s cock. Clean me up everywhere from my balls to the creases of my legs.”  I got between his legs and licked him clean, every inch of him.  While I did this I was shaking.  It was harder than I thought to admit that I wanted him to be my Master.  The thought of us in this new dynamic fills me with joy and with fear.

“Did you like calling me that?” I nodded as I cleaned him.  I couldn’t talk.  It had been so shockingly hard.  He had given me no quarter.  And he had slapped me. His level of dominance had been different.  He told me that was on purpose.  That we would have to talk seriously about what the changes would be if we did this.  We talked a little and then I went to the store because we were having guests over.  My vanilla friends were coming over for the first time.  They were coming and I could barely hold myself together.  I sat in the car at the store shaking.  Why was I so affected?  What had he done differently?  I felt like something happened and it was over my head.  I sensed a change I just couldn’t grasp it entirely yet.