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. 

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. 

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. 

Hold Strong

For the thousandth time in my life I wish I were stronger.  Sure, I am strong.  I can bear pain reasonably well.  Emotional pain, physical pain, yes they hurt me but I don’t make a big fuss.  

The most fuss I’ve ever made has been with Daddy as he whips me. It is such a catharsis to be allowed to voice some whimpers of expression in those moments.  I’m so used to being the stoic, but I found a way to allow myself those expressions.  Still, I don’t let go much because those whimpers eventually worm their way under Daddy’s blanket of darkness and find the protective Daddy response. 

I’ve been doing my best in our current situation to be strong.  I haven’t succeeded.  I am an adult woman and at the moment I feel every bit the baby girl.  I want Daddy to be here and hold me and make it all okay.  

I talk to our wifey, Goddess, and I’m so impressed with her.  She says, “Just pack up and move.  Go to court.  Get your child and go.” If I had half of her dominance or moxey or whatever that is, I’d be in a whole different place in life.  But here I am, timid me. 

Will I ever have the life I want?  Will I ever speak up for me? Why when I do speak up I can’t handle the backlash that comes from speaking my truth?  Is there any way to train yourself to know how to deal with manipulative, pushy, toxic people like my ex? 

Again, I have no answers just questions.  

Intermission

Sorry folks, I have so much to write about but stress is not a great mistress when it comes to writing.  All I want to do right now is crawl into a deep hole with a tub of ice cream. 

Daddy is away in Texas and I can’t sleep.  I’m up all evening eating random weird things.  Last night it was a whole package of beets then later it was gluten-free toaster waffles.  It sucks to only have healthy food in the house when you want to binge on crap. 

Daddy and I are going to be living apart for a while. I have no idea how long.  We started looking at houses, lovely houses that dreams are made of.  Now Daddy has an apartment that is only his and I’m stuck here with 4 more years to parent my child, the other love of my life. 

I’m doing my damnedest to be upbeat, to work the problem like I usually would.  Find a way.  But I’m stuck.  Every direction I turn something awful will happen.  

I’ve been so emotional since Saturday.  We played, it was intense and absolutely needed, I’ll tell you about it.  After we played Daddy left for Texas the next day.  I’ve been distraught and trying to keep it together, trying to be my normal positive self.  Not easy. 

At first I thought it was a bad sub drop.  It would have been the first time that happened for me.  But I don’t think that was it.  It is just the reality of our situation settling in.

Fuck, fuck, fuck.  

Altered States

He gave me time.  We were full from breakfast.  We sat and read email, blogs, etc.  I didn’t think anything of it.  Life as usual. 

He got up to do some laundry and then he was by my side in the living room. “Strip.” He said with no emotion, no explanation.  I unzipped my jeans vest and pulled off my shorts.  I stood naked before him. “Nice.  Follow me.”

Into the bedroom we went.  There were ropes everywhere.  He had been busy while he was doing the laundry.  “Get into the center of the bed,” he said as he adjusted the ropes at the headboard.  A large O ring was centered at the top of the large wooden headboard. I recognized it as a piece of equipment that is usually used under the mattress so that you can tie a person spread eagle to a bed withiut a frame.  This was going to be different. 

I laid on the bed in the center.  I was nude and felt the air from the  fan play across my skin.  He took one of my wrists and looped black rope around it several times tying a knot below my palm.  Then he tied the other wrist in similar fashion.  Each wrist was then secured to a ring an each side of the headboard.  Now I was unable to move my hands.  When I pulled on one the other would become secured closer to the wooden frame.  Oh, they are linked behind the bed.  I thought. The more I move the tighter I’ll be pulled on one side or the other. Devious.

Then he looped more black rope around my thighs.  Each thigh had many loops of rope, then each was tied off around the loops at my inner thigh.  The rope would secure me but not pull on my skin. Finally he pulled each leg up by ropes through the O ring in the center of the headboard right above my head.   As I looked up I saw a network of ropes strung from the upper corners of the bed and from my thighs.  I was trapped with my knees at my breasts, my hands bound and my sex wide open to him. 

He stood over me and surveyed his work. He smiled with approval.  “I can smell your sex.  I think you like this.” Then he took out the implements he had hidden by the bed.  A crop, a feather duster, and other items I couldn’t see.  Oh, I was in for it.  He mounted the bed and settled himself between my legs.  He blew air on my pussy.

I felt his nose first.  He ran his nose over my sex and up around the clit.  Then his tongue flicked over my labia, caressed my sensitive skin.  My senses were already heightened from being tied and now his tongue lit me up. Soft fluttering caresses that set me on fire. I was whimpering and pulling on my bonds to get to him. 

He pulled back, I hoped to mount me, but he picked up a crop instead.  He smacked the top of my pussy with it.  I jumped with every strike.  I tried to calm myself and bear the impacts but I was slipping away from my control. The binding ropes trapped me yet set my mind to flight. 

As the stinging sensations accelerated so did my need to beg for mercy. Before I reached my limit he knelt again to lick my pussy.  I was out of my mind.  First gentle flicks of the tongue, then hard sucking, then back to gentleness.  I was moaning loudly, unable to stop myself. 

He picked up the crop again.  My sex was wide open, my thighs tied back, my toes barely touching the bed.  The sting of contact shot through my pelvis jolting me. “Daddy!”

“What baby girl? Don’t you like it?” He said with a devilish smile.  He knew I liked it. The stings were harder and deeper now.  The first round was to bring the blood to the surface. This was the main event. It seemed that crop strikes followed by the more subtle torment of licking were the order of the day.  Each round pushed me closer to climax.

His finger hovered around the entrance to my pussy.  Caressing the pouty lips on each side.  I arched forward.  Finally!  Some kind of fucking! As sexual play ramps up, I have a one track mind.  Fuck me! Put it in, fill my hole, fuck me! My pelvis pounded forward propelling towards surcease.  His finger lazily dropped down to my asshole.  No! Not there! He rubbed little circles getting it wet then he pushed it in my ass.  

“Daddy! Fuucckk….” I’m not sure if that was a request or an expletive.  Either way, he wasn’t listening. His tongue bathed my pulsating clit.  His finger kept prodding my ass.  My throbbing, aching, hungry pussy sat forgotten on the edge of the dance floor waiting with her cocktail glass dripping sweat down her dress.

“Daddy please.” Pitiful. He ignored it.  “Daddy please fuck your slut.”  His eyes rose to look at his trussed up prize then went back to his work. “Please fuck your dirty whore.” He finally took notice. 

“You want to be fucked, do you?” His voice dripped with his Cheshire smile. “Hmm.” Noncommittal though he feigned, he finally he rose.  Yes, yes, yes! 

“Yes Daddy, please!” I was gone.  I looked up to him through atmospheres of dreamy landscapes.  

“You are mine.  I own you. Do you understand?” 

“Yes Daddy. Yours.”  I was laid bare to him.  Raw and exposed. 

“You are my dirty little whore.” He was poised at my clutching hole. He thrust forward cleaving me with his meaty cock.

“Yes Daddy, god yes!” The feeling was indescribable. Shivers of pleasure covered my body.  My mind sang.  I gripped the rope that bound my wrists to the bed. I wanted to wrap myself around him but was denied.  Thrust after thrust filled my needy pussy with the cock I so desperately wanted. 

“Take it!” His face above me, his hands on me.  His intensity broke free. 

“Fuck your little slut, your whore, fuck my cunt.  Please Daddy, fuck me, fuck me.” On and on I rutted in a hypnotized frenzy.

“Take it, take my seed!” He thrust to the hilt and pumped hot come deep inside me.  I felt it spurting out between us as his cries and grunts played across the room. 

Afterwards, he untied me in sections.  I cleaned us up while still in a stupor, ropes dangling from my wrists.  I came back down sometime after that. 

I Want

He tweaks my nipple and I want him.  

He left to play golf many many miles away.

I want a facefucking in the worst way.

I want to be used, abused and taken.

I want his cock deep inside me.  

I want his fingers down my throat as he fucks me sore.

I want to be on my knees for him.

I want…