My Daddy makes me so proud to be his.  I love his words and his pride in me.  I always want to make him proud of me and happy that I’m in his life. 


My Baby Girl is beauty Her physical being is superbly feminine Her soul is caring and pure She is open and honest Her love of life comes through brilliantly She exudes confidence She helped me this weekend On a golf course as an ambassador She openly and with heartfelt joy Teased and tormented golfers with […]



I am dedicated to Daddy.  I want with all my heart to be all that he wants and needs in a submissive, a wife, a slave and a woman.  I hope that with everything I do that I honor my dedication to him, that I honor him in thought, word and deed.

This week I failed him.  I promised to write and I failed to do so.  He was away in Berlin and it would have been the best time to write for him.  To give him a taste of his home and his girl while he was so far away.  I failed him in that.  Why do I fail? My focus drifted to other things.  I was hyper-focused on cleaning out my closet.  I’m worried that we’ll not have enough room for all his things and mine when we move in together.  So, I took everything out of the one closet bit by bit and went through it.  I’m not nearly done.  I want to scan old photos so they will no longer take up space.  I want to make some photo albums of special photos.  I took out two years of filing I had avoided for too long.  I bought a filing cabinet and shredded and filed until there was nothing left but one organized cabinet. I did my taxes.

I was distracted from my main desire, to please Daddy. I know I get distracted.  I get tunnel vision on one task and other equally important tasks fall by the wayside. When Daddy asked for me to write, I wanted to write.  I knew I wanted to please him and I promised.  Still I didn’t write.  My muse felt so silent and cold. Daddy arrived home from Berlin and I was so happy I’d be able to see him.  He texted that he’d arrive and I was to wear a skirt and no panties.  He told me that I would feel his passion and his displeasure.  That I would be punished and asked if I knew why.  Oh, yes, I knew.  I knew very well.  He said, even though we would be having family time that he would find time during the evening to make me feel his heat and I would be punished. Even as I felt the guilt from my actions, my heart sang that he cared so much for me and for my writing.  I felt a wave of need for him so white hot.  Maybe I should be afraid of punishment but it feels like home, it feels like caring, it lets me know his desires and that our dynamic is important to him.

Silhouette is in the public domain


Do you ever get stuck in your writing?  I do.  I’ve taken long breaks from writing simply because I run out of what I feel are original thoughts.  Sometimes, I see the repetitive nature of my language choices and that makes me sad.  The way of our best writers is not paved with boring adjectives and the same stilted word usage.  There are over 170,000 words in the latest Oxford Dictionary.  I would expect them to come to mind more easily than they do, especially when I have a Muse who fills my waking thoughts.  But, that is not the current reason for my lack of flow.  I have too much on my mind.  I need to purge…mentally.  So, I thought I’d write some stream of consciousness writing and see what happens.

Down a slippery slope
Sliding in and out of time
Sinking into an abyss
Falling in love
Rambling words
Stream of Consciousness
Your touch
My need
Today, I worry
Tomorrow, I hold you
Ever in cycle
Ever in desperation
Mine to have
Yours to command
Falling again
Swimming at the bottom
Life so hard
No straight path
Ever hidden and secluded
Around the next corner
My thoughts waver
You take the next curve
I pant, following behind
The vortex awaits
Offer your hand
Save me from the dark
Find the path
Pull me close
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