Vacation

Hello all! Well, Daddy and I are taking care of final preparations for our upcoming vacation…woohoo! Considering the fact that we’ve been planning this trip for over seven months and the fact that we’ll be gone for nearly two whole weeks, I am (at times, quite literally) bouncing with excitement!

Of course, the reason for this post isn’t to brag (ok, maybe that’s part of the reason!), but rather to let you all know that I may be out of touch for the next couple of weeks…and this time, there will be a good reason! ;)

Although, you never know… Sometimes vacations lend themselves to some sexcapades that even submissive little horny perverts like me could only dream of! And in that case, I’ll be sure to keep you informed!!!

Take care, all!

Little Slut

“You like it when Daddy uses you this way. You need to be forced open every day by your Master’s cock. Take it…take it…”

Almost every time that Daddy pushes his way into me at the start of a sex session, he talks/whispers/growls to me… He always lets me know who and what I am to him at that moment – my use value according to him, a list of precious assets (pussy, mouth, ass, tits), my status as slave. But every once in a while, he’ll use a specific term that catches my attention more than usual and puts me in a place that I never see coming…

“You little slut.”

God, I love being called that… Part of my affinity for the term is that “slut” is such a wicked, debasing word and having it directed at me doesn’t form part of my normal, daily existence. The other part is the fact that when Daddy calls me that, there couldn’t be a more pure distillation of my essence at that moment. I’m pure slut, a nasty whore who craves a hard fucking more than anything in the world. I don’t want to be a slut, but it’s in my nature and I cannot and must not deny it. Daddy wouldn’t allow that.

And Daddy loves his little slut. He loves controlling her orgasms and making her cum while he hurts her with his cock, rapes her into submission, and degrades her with his epithets. He loves picking the precise moment when the pain has reached a boiling point and then commanding an orgasm from his baby girl’s ravaged body… “You see what a little slut you are? Cumming so hard while Daddy hurts you? God, that’s so wonderfully degrading, little one…”

Yes, it is degrading. And yes, I love it. I’m such a little slut…

On Being Submissive - Interview

Hello all! My blogosphere friend turiya recently posted an interview with me on one of her blogs entitled “On Being Submissive” (nee “On Being Slave”). The interview can be found here. Please visit to learn a bit more about the relationship that Daddy and I have, and also to let turiya know how much you appreciate her dedication to our collective lifestyles! :) Thank you!

Penetration

Since Daddy has been traveling quite a bit lately, we’ve been spending a significant amount of our limited alone time when he’s home, um, “reconnecting” (“reconnecting” = thinly veiled euphemism for fucking…a lot!). We find ourselves falling into our familiar patterns of dominance and submission while we’re at our most intimate and there is much comfort in this… We’re both aware and in tune with each other’s needs and we have wasted no time in making sure that those needs are met!

That being said, there is a particular aspect of our love-making/fucking/sex sessions that has really caught my attention as of late – penetration. Yes, I know, most sexual acts involve some degree of penetration, but how often do we slow down enough to focus on the penetrative act in and of itself? Penetration is usually the means to the end and lends itself to a myriad of sexual delights...especially when the act of penetration is repeated over and over…and over again! Woohoo!

What I’m referring to as noteworthy is the initial entry into the body, and in this case, the initial entry into my pussy. Daddy is rather well-endowed and I’ve never had a child, so I’m nice and tight for him. Of course, this combination proves to be excruciatingly delightful time and time again. When Daddy climbs on top of me and rests the tip of his thick cock against my not-too-slick, waiting and wanting hole, the suspense is more than palpable. He forces, thrusts, and grinds his way into me, both hurting and pleasuring me, all the time reminding me of who I am and why I exist…

“You like this, baby girl. You like feeling your Daddy fight his way into you. You need me to hurt you with my cock. You can’t be complete without this…” And he’s right.

In a way, this penetrative ritual is our sexual mantra, reaffirming our respective domination and submission. Of course, it doesn’t hurt that said mantra also serves to make me crave his cock more than ever! ;)

So, all I’m saying is that the next time you’re with your partner, if you have the opportunity, take a moment to slow down and really focus on and savor that first penetration.

You won’t regret it!

Communication

As a disclaimer, for some reason, I thought that I had posted this entry months ago...but I can't seem to find it in our archive! If, by chance, this is a repeat, I sincerely apologize and promise to follow up with a new post very soon! :) Thanks for reading...

In a world plagued by Dr. Phil-istines, there is quite an abundance of advocacy in favor of “open, honest communication”. Yes, I think there is something to be said for solid communication, but “communication” has now become a trite, annoying buzzword for solving any and all relationship troubles. What strikes me most is that a majority of couples who follow a vanilla lifestyle don’t seem to be able to broach sensitive topics and yes, communicate, with the ease that D/s couples do. This holds even truer for any discussions about sex. For example, I have never been able to talk about sex as freely as I would have liked…up until now, that is. In my relatively vanilla past, partners have come and gone (yes, I hope you caught the double entendre…), but none were willing to discuss our sexual exploits in any sort of detail. It’s as if, once the act was completed (and even if said act constituted previously unexplored territory for us), it was over, buried, and never to be spoken of again. This always struck me as odd. Granted, I had no desire to get into the minutiae (ins-and-outs? blow-by-blow? Nah, too easy…) of our sex, but rather wished to know how our sex, love-making, fucking, or any of the shades in between made them react. Did they want more of that particular act? Were they revolted by it? Would they like to try it again, but with our respective roles reversed? How did that sex fit into their sex echelon (sexchelon?)? Somewhere between a quickie and a finger up the butt? How was I to know? Needless to say, this sex secrecy pact did not bode well for any of my former partners and I was left questioning and unfulfilled.

Now, knowing what I know now as I bask in the first budding of my submission to Daddy, I should have seen that what I really wanted was a sort of feedback system with which I could tailor-make sex to fit my partners. I wasn’t aware of how deep my submission ran back then and it never occurred to me that my desire to talk about sex sessions had nothing to do with any insecurity on my part but rather a thirst for personalized sex education. Of course, as anyone even remotely interested in D/s can tell you, submitting to someone who is unable or unwilling to dom, or vice versa, is an exercise in futility and frustration. If he is not interested in crafting her to fit his deepest desires, no matter how submissive she is or how much she wishes it to be, there can be no true domination, no mastery, no ownership. And, for people like me, no fulfillment.

Which brings me back to Daddy… From the very beginning, even before we met, Daddy has been very generous with his detailed descriptions of what he enjoys, what he would like to do to me, and how I can improve sexually in order to better serve him. Nirvana. Valhalla. Bingo. While he’s fucking me, after fucking me, while my mouth is wrapped around his thick cock, during the morning and afternoon as we go about our day-to-day work and tasks, before curling up in bed and falling asleep together – he never fails to let me know how much he cherishes and adores me as his slave or to remind me of why I exist. I exist to give him pleasure. And what’s more, he encourages, no, commands me to tell him how it feels to be fucked, to be used, to be enslaved, to be his property for the rest of my life, to be loved, to be adored, to be denied orgasm, to be allowed to suck his cock, and to be the little one that, deep down, I’ve always longed to be.

I tell Daddy everything. I tell him how wonderful it feels when he uses me and hurts me with his big cock as he rams it into my pussy. How much I love…need…our daily cock-sucking sessions. How I look forward to the day when I can feel his cum dripping out of my mouth, my pussy, and my ass after a long day of being used like the slut I can be. How the thought of being gagged, blindfolded, and tied down while my nipples are clamped and a plug is pushed into my tight little ass makes me so wet I can hardly stand it. How hard it is, and yet how necessary, for Daddy to control my orgasms. How much I want to endure his beatings and whippings because I know how much it pleases him to have a good little obedient girl…

I could go on, but the point is this: Despite those who may view the act of talking about scenes such as those that I’ve described as a way of committing that seemingly unforgiveable sin of topping from the bottom, I beg to differ. In no way am I telling Daddy how to dominate me, how to control me, how to make me submit. He is extremely adept in all of these fields and thankfully does not need or require any assistance from me. By voicing my desires and verbalizing my submission to him, I am allowing Daddy to penetrate ever deeper into my psyche in order to further dominate me and push my limits. We navigate the strong and powerful, yet delicate balance of D/s, the crux of which is, in its essence, communication.

So yes, I now find myself trafficking in the clichéd parlance of our times, yet I hope that as you read these lines you’ll find that I’ve entered a sort of meta-rhetorical gray area that helps to further explain the nature and fulfillment found in D/s relationships. Or maybe you just like reading about sex… Either way, I hope you’ve enjoyed!

Measurements

As we go through life, it becomes increasingly apparent that we are always being measured…and that the results of said measurements are generally pretty displeasing. Are you tall enough to get on that ride at the fair? Are you too old to jump in the ball pit at Chuck E. Cheese’s? Are you sure that that bra size will offer you enough support? Are you too fat to get on the new Harry Potter ride at Universal Studios?? Does your cock stack up against that porn star’s ridiculously huge crank?

And even when we’re not being measured by others, we seem to insist upon measuring ourselves in every conceivable fashion. How many pounds did I put on after that cruise? Could that moron at work actually be smarter than me?? Is she prettier than me?

Evidently, to measure is to be human…and there is one measurement that I’ve been looking forward to for some time now. One measurement that will further bind me to my Daddy and Master (as if it were possible). One measurement that won’t displease me in the least. Just one little measurement.

Daddy is going to measure me for my collar.

Yes, I am his wife, his partner, his baby girl, his best friend, and his slave, but we just never got around to getting me a collar. And Daddy has decided that it is time.

Time for him to collar his little one. Time to put me on my knees before him, naked except for the collar and the taut leash that he’ll use to guide me to his throbbing cock. Time to bind me to the bed for hours on end, forcing me to contemplate my life as his slave, as the snug collar reminds me of my eternal subservience. Time to give his wonderful little whore a tangible reminder of her status as property to be used.

So, at the very moment that Daddy wraps the tape measure around my soft neck, I’ll know that we’re taking yet another step together on our path through life and through D/s. And I guarantee that I’ll be positively beaming when Daddy’s takes this measurement… :)

New Routines

Hello all! Please forgive my extended absence – I feel like I bailed on you without any forewarning, and for that I apologize! There is, however, a reasonable explanation for this recent dearth of postings from yours truly…and it begins with a riddle! :) What do Dolly Parton, Sheena Easton, and I have in common? No, it’s not vocal talent or disproportionate breast size…it’s that I am officially a part of the “9-to-5” gang! Baby Girl got herself a job (and I’m really enjoying it so far…woohoo!) Friendly, helpful coworkers, easy public transportation to and from work, a fun, challenging job…and the paycheck isn’t too shabby either! And I repeat…woohoo!

Unfortunately, though, getting into the routine of a full-time work schedule has left me exhausted and somewhat out of sorts. Over the past few weeks, it seems as though my workout habits, my eating habits, and my blogging habits have been on hiatus…and I’m thinking that it’s about time for me to get back on track! Now, I’m not promising a post every day, but I’m definitely going to try and post as often as possible, considering that the one routine that hasn’t suffered is our sex schedule! (Currently over the course of this long weekend, we’ve already hit 9 times…and counting!)

Although, truth be told, the daily sex schedule has had to shift somewhat…no more random afternoon blow jobs or wild sex…no more Daddy waking me up in the morning by mercilessly pounding into my tight little pussy…I suppose that’s what weekends and vacations are for! But we’ve come to the conclusion that we need to make time for ourselves, time for Baby Girl to meet all of her Daddy’s needs, time to consciously reflect upon the power dynamic that we have, and time to remember that no matter what my role is outside of the house, I am always owned…I am always a slave…I am always His.

It’s nice to be back…and I think I’m going to enjoy getting into this routine! ;)