Calling All Dommes!

We have an absolutely lovely community of Dominants and submissives out there and I couldn’t be happier to call you my Blogosphere friends! ☺ And while I enjoy our exchange of advice, admiration, and repartee, I often wonder if I am unknowingly disenfranchising two segments of readers – submissive men and Dominant women.

Looking at my history of posts referring to the nature of D/s and the generalities of TTWD, I have always used Dom as opposed to Domme. Along these same lines, my Dom is always Him, He, or Sir, never Her, She, or Ma’am. I have noticed this trend in others’ blogs as well. From my own perspective, part of this has to do with the fact that my frame of reference in regards to D/s is strictly Dom/(female) sub. However, I think the overarching reason for this tendency is that Domme/(male) sub relationships are much less common in our community.

Is my inherent gender bias (within the context of D/s and BDSM) simply a reflection of the norms in our community or are there deeper, more chauvinist motives at play? Should I be concerned about my terminology usage?

Is my lack of inclusiveness a slight to the Dommes and male subs out there?

What is your experience with this socio-linguistic phenomenon? I’d love to hear from you!

On Being the Man Who Chokes Baby Girl

God do I love wrapping my hand around baby girl's throat.

After much thought about D/s and my attitudes over it during the past few years, I think I've come to realize that what I love about being a Dom isn't as much power as it is trust. When I wrap my hand around baby girl's throat and squeeze, I think -- if I'm as reflective as I can be -- that what turns me on is the fact that she trusts me to do whatever I choose, whatever I think to be right for her, for myself, for both of us. She trusts me enough to have willingly surrendered her right to a safe word, willingly surrendered her right to ever leave, or to ever even request to be released. She trusts me enough to have given me the right to do whatever I choose with her. On a regular basis, that includes strapping her wrists to the bed, rendering her helpless, and then choking her until, as she notes above, the last bit of air in her lungs is going out. She literally puts her life in my hands.

Yes, there's tremendous power in that. But interestingly enough, I'm not a power addict. I've never sought power in my work, though I've certainly had it given to me (on at least one occasion specifically because I didn't seek it). I've never been the type to want to be in charge of the PTA, want to be in charge of the homeowners association. I just have no interest in it.

I respect all forms of D/s relationships, but I honestly find the idea of a relationship in which I micro-managed every aspect of baby girl's life to be tiresome -- I have little or no interest in telling her what to wear, how to style her hair, how to clean the house, how to do her job, or the like. Not only do I not want that power, I'd find it annoyingly time-consuming.

Baby girl understands that my control over her is absolute. She has a wonderful job, but she knows that if I ordered her to give it up in order to focus all her attention on me, she would have no choice. She likes where we live now, and we have completely compatible goals about where we want to live in the future, but she knows that if I made a different decision, ordered her to pack up and move, she would have no choice. And yet it's rare that I exercise this control outside of the bedroom, or outside of a context at least related to our sexual relationship. When I do, it's usually because I'm overriding baby girl in what I believe to be her own interest -- you have to work out now, you have to go to the doctor now, you have to get to urgent care now, that sort of thing. Again, power exercised for its own sake holds no appeal to me.

But the trust? That's insanely erotic. Just writing about it has made me rock-hard.

And ready for baby girl.

On Choking Baby Girl

Before I met Daddy, I had never been choked by any of my previous partners. When Daddy first suggested the idea to me, I was a little nervous, but excited to try it. I had no preconceived limits associated with choking and looked forward to exploring with Daddy…

It occurred to me, though, that some of you may have never been choked during D/s play and may be curious about what it feels like. With this in mind, I’d like to share with you my own experience so that you have a little more information with which to work. And for those of you who have been choked before, I hope that this description resonates with you!

So, what does it feel like to be choked by my Daddy? Let’s see if I’m able to adequately put it into words…

Daddy is on top of me and he has me bent in half, with my ankles on his shoulders and his large frame pressing down on me. I’m trapped, I’m vulnerable, I’m stuffed with his thick cock, and I’m dripping wet as he saws in and out of me. My hands are pinned above my head with his left hand as his right hand slowly wraps around my throat. He commands me to look at him as he starts to squeeze…

The first sensation that I notice is pressure in my eyes, as if they’re straining in their sockets. I start to lose some focus, but concentrate on meeting Daddy’s gaze. Next, the ringing starts in my ears. It’s somewhat uncomfortable, but not too severe. I am still able to get small gasps of air into my lungs, despite his hand slowly contracting around my windpipe.

Daddy continues to thrust into me, pounding my pussy into submission. I start to notice that the last bit of air in my lungs is running out.

We’re getting close…close to the time when I won’t be able to breath at all and when Daddy will command a big orgasm from me. With my pussy clenched around his cock, I can feel my clit start to pulse with the beating of my heart. When I don’t think I can take it much longer and I’m seeing black and white spots in my field of vision, I hear Daddy yell, “CUM!!” His hand loosens a little and I scream as the orgasm courses through my entire body.

It’s hard to imagine a more intense moment of passion, pleasure, or, most important of all, trust. For if I didn’t implicitly trust my Daddy, none of this would be possible and I wouldn’t be able to experience most of what he and I share.

As he soothes me after the session, we both understand that he knows what is best for me and he would never do anything that would be detrimental to the faith I’ve placed in him. Will he push me? Yes. Will he hurt me? Yes. Will he be in control and measured at all times? Yes. And this is why choking can be a thing of beauty.

I hope this was as good for you as it was for me… ☺

Safewords

It was a pretty close race to the finish with this week’s poll, but in the end (so to speak!), those who were wholeheartedly in favor of figging came out on top with 41% of the vote. The curious lot was close behind (again, so to speak…man, these puns are just writing themselves!) with 37% of the vote. Thank you to all 24 of you who participated and shared your ginger-infused opinions with us! ☺

For this week’s poll, we have something new…Daddy came up with the theme and we now have two polls running instead of one! We would like to discover more about safewords in our community, both from the submissive perspective and the Dominant perspective. Please take a moment to identify the poll that applies to you (sub or Dom) and vote for the response that most resembles your experience.

Thanks and have fun! ☺

The Hardest Itch to Scratch?

After taking a look at this week’s poll (by the way, you still have a whole day left to register your opinion about figging! →), I began thinking about fetishes, lifestyles, sexuality, TTWD, and a host of other delightfully salacious topics. And as I mulled over my own proclivities and kinkiness, I realized that, to some degree and within our wonderful community, my desires are pretty pedestrian! Although this is hardly an exhaustive list, I’d have to say that my “non-vanilla” appetites run toward D/s, BDSM, anal play, caning/belting, age play, and sensory deprivation/gagging. When it comes to Kinksville, USA, these inclinations don’t even raise an eyebrow, let alone cause a scandal. Hell, you could probably see most if not all of my interests on a two-part episode of Law & Order SVU!

And here I thought I was edgy…. Damn. ;-)

So what would raise an eyebrow in our community? What fetishes/kinks/alternative lifestyles are the most difficult to indulge? In other words, what is the hardest itch to scratch?

I mean, there are entire pornography sub-genres dedicated to amputees, people of size, Japanese anime, little people, and dozens more… By means of the Internet, we have nearly instant access to myriads of material about all sorts of non-normative (and I mean that with all due respect) subject matter.*

What, in your opinion or experience, would be the most difficult fetish/kink/lifestyle to engage in? What makes it so difficult? Is it the idea of the practice itself? Is it finding a willing partner to participate? Is it admitting your true feelings to yourself or another?

I put it to you, gang, what is the hardest itch to scratch?

* I should add that although I do NOT support exploitation of any sort, there are (as I’m sure you well know) pornography sub-genres dedicated to children and to animals. These two “itches” are, unfortunately, far too easy to scratch.

D/s Goes to the Movies!

So I’m assuming (perhaps erroneously) that many of us have seen the film Secretary (2002), in which a quirky attorney with a penchant for dominating, spanking, and tending to his orchids hires a slightly unbalanced secretary who is slowly but surely discovering her true submissive self. It’s any D/s lover’s dream!!! If you haven’t seen it yet, I highly recommend this film. Both James Spader and Maggie Gyllenhaal turn in inspired performances and give the subject matter the gravity it deserves, avoiding the overly camp, while still keeping the film light.

While thinking about this overtly D/s-themed movie, it made me think of “vanilla” movies I’ve seen that have D/s or BDSM themes. Truth be told, when I was a teenager, any movie that showed somebody – man or woman - tied up and ready to be tortured would be enough to throw my clit into a tizzy!

Here are just a few of the vanilla movies I can think of that got my blood a-boilin’ when I was young and had no way of getting my hands on legitimate D/s smut. It was before the age of Internet porn and before I knew that there was a word for what I was feeling…

• The Princess Bride
• Indiana Jones and the Temple of Doom
• Flash Gordon
• Goldfinger and Thunderball (Way to go, Connery! You made it on the list twice!)
• American Ninja 3 (No, I’m not joking.)

I would love to hear what some of your favorite “vanilla” movies are…those special flicks that are hiding little D/s or BDSM gems! ☺

Move It, Mother Nature!

Before I get started with this post, I’d like to point out that there is a new poll this week. Please take a moment to leave your response! This week’s poll is about figging, and, as a quick aside, if you vote for the fourth option, I would suggest that you start a Google search as soon as possible! ☺ Thanks for your participation!


Well, it’s that dastardly time of the month when really intense fucking sessions can prove to be a big nuisance (and yes, “nuisance” is a thinly-veiled euphemism for “rowdy mess”). Normally I’m not too sexually charged during this week each month, but the collaring and the promise of using our new glass dildo have me all riled up! I find myself yearning for the collar, the spankings, and the cervix-bruising pounding that Daddy gives me… But most of all, I crave the peaceful submission that I find in an extreme sex session with Daddy.

Can we speed up this process, Mother Nature??? Daddy and his Baby Girl have some business to attend to!

Poll Results...and a Confession

Thank you all for participating in this week’s poll regarding the age during which you experienced your first D/s or BDSM urges! I’m going to give you a breakdown of the results and, if you’re patient enough to make it through to the end, you may get a little reward apropos of this week’s theme (courtesy of yours truly).

26 people responded to the question and, interestingly enough, the results weren’t as lopsided as I expected them to be. I had assumed that the two age groups of 6-10 and 11-14 would garner a significant majority of the responses on account of childhood explorations of sexuality and puberty/hormone fluctuations. As it turns out, though, 30% of the respondents identified themselves in the 6-10 age group, 26% were over the age of 18, and 23% were between 15-18 when they had their first TTWD urges… Fascinating stuff!

Well, now that you’ve all been generous enough to offer your input into the poll (all in the interest of science, of course!), and you’ve made it through the dry, quantifiable data, I feel it’s only fair that I share with you my response and my earliest D/s urges… To up the ante, I should mention that not even Daddy has heard this story!

I was 7 or 8 years old when I had my first D/s longings. As I’m sure is true for most of you, I wasn’t able to define the feelings as such, but I knew that I liked it and that it probably would be best to keep it to myself. There was a group of about 4-5 kids that I would play with every day during recess at school. We would chase after each other, play tag, climb the monkey bars…pretty standard schoolyard fare. One day, one of the boys decided that he wanted to play a new game, one in which a couple of girls, at his command, would chase after me to capture me for him. Please keep in mind that, although I’m fairly athletic now, I loathe running. However, when I was 7 years old, I was the fastest girl in my class. This fact, coupled with the imagination of a mischievous young boy, made me quite the sought-after quarry.

One day, the two girls, both very fast in their own right, finally captured me and grabbed me by the arms to take me back to the leader of the group. They had never caught me before, so I didn’t know what the leader had in store for me. All I knew was that I was trapped and exhausted and that I wouldn’t be able to fight whatever was coming next… At that moment, I felt my clit throb in ecstasy and anticipation of the unknown submission that I would be subjected to.

The two minions (also submissives?) escorted me back to Him. I was terrified and turned on all at the same time. Part of me feared the consequences of being caught, part of me wanted to explore the powerful feeling that was stirring inside of me and that was refusing to subside…

And then the bell rang to call us back from recess.

None of us ever spoke of what we did or what we felt that day, but we never played that game again. Perhaps we were all experiencing feelings that we were trying to suppress. Feelings that would eventually surface again as adults, begging to be acknowledged and released…

Lazy Weekend Poll

First of all, please take a moment to register your opinion/experience in the poll over to the right… →

Thank you, maui girl, for giving me the idea for this poll… After reading some of the responses to your post about your first experience with BDSM, including a couple from my very own Daddy, I thought I’d open the question up in more general terms.

I’m curious to see what the responses are and I’ll be sure to post the results!

And please note, lest I be accused of repeating myself, this is a topic that I’ve mentioned and polled before…but as it is topic that is near and dear to my heart, I thought it could bear some repeating!

Baby Girl Strips for Daddy

“No. Not yet.”

This is what I heard as I unbuttoned my suit jacket and made my first attempts to get comfortable after returning home from work. Daddy stopped me cold.

“Come with me.”

He escorted me to our bedroom, lowered the blinds, and settled into our overstuffed loveseat.

“I want my Baby Girl to strip for me. I’ve been thinking about this for quite awhile.”

Daddy had never asked this of me, but I had no intention of disappointing him. Plus, he had just come home from a long business trip and it made me feel incredibly sexy to know that what he most wanted at that moment was to see me disrobe for him. He wanted full access to his Baby Girl’s body…and he wanted to start by soaking in the sight of her.

“Play with yourself for me.”

My hands instinctively sought out my clit as I touched myself for him.

I stood before him, a wanton little girl slut playing with herself…desperate to be near him, desperate to feel his body, desperate to nuzzle up against his straining cock.

And I soon got what I most craved. Daddy pushed the ottoman away, making room for me to kneel on the floor before him and to wrap my mouth around his thick shaft.

I lavished his cock with attention…suckling, kissing, nibbling… And all I wanted was more of him in my needy, greedy little mouth. Before I knew it, though, Daddy pulled me from my knees and forced me on to the bed. I knew that my tight little pussy would have trouble accommodating his large member, especially after a prolonged period without any penetration. And I was right.

“I want you to know that this is going to hurt you. Good. I want it to hurt… Take it…TAKE IT!!”

As I cried out in delicious agony and submissive freedom, he took his index and middle fingers and stuffed them in my mouth as a makeshift gag… It was all I could do to keep from cumming at that moment – after all, good little girls do not cum until they are given permission to do so. But, Christ, was that hot!

But Daddy wasn’t finished with his little one yet…

He seized my legs and put my ankles on his shoulders, allowing him deeper access to my slick, wanting pussy. Daddy knows how much this position hurts me, but he also knows how much we both love it for that very reason. He fucked me into oblivion, pounding my pussy mercilessly, and gagging me on and off with his fingers.

When he finally filled me with his seed, he looked down at me on the bed and let his thumb rest in the corner of my mouth. At that moment, I don’t know if it was the feeling of being sexually overwhelmed in the best possible way or if it was the feeling of complete vulnerability, but all I wanted to do was suck Daddy’s thumb…

And that’s exactly what I did.

A Deep Need

There is something that I've been wanting for a long time... Something from Daddy... It's not something that we've discussed before, so he has no idea what this want might be...

He's been traveling the past week and I've had plenty of time to reflect upon this want... Plenty of time to realize that this want is turning into a need...

Until I've discussed it with Daddy, I won't share this need with you (I'm an absolutely terrible tease!), but I'd love to hear your thoughts about my minor dilemma...

I've never voiced a need to Daddy before and I would never want to ruin the beautiful dynamic that we share... That being said, how do I let him know of my secret, deep-seated need without "topping from the bottom"? On one hand, he is my Daddy and has every right to know what I'm thinking and feeling. Yet on the other, I'm afraid that if I tell him exactly what I need, it may disrupt our D/s balance...

I feel that this problem is an "oldie but a goodie" in our community, but can any of you offer some words of advice?

Let me sweeten the deal, shall I?

I promise that when I am able to voice my need to Daddy, I'll write every sordid, delicious detail down in this blog for you to enjoy...sound good??

The Same Old Routine

While sheepishly lurking around some of my favorite blogs and attempting to reconnect with some of my old blogosphere friends, it occurred to me that publishing a quick post might not be the worst idea in the world! Hello all!

Although I'm sure you're not all that interested in why I fell off the face of our cozy little planet, perhaps my reasons might provide some fodder for discussion!

While commenting on Florida Dom's blog, I cited a new, time-consuming job as my main reason for lapsing on the blog. After leaving my comment, though, I gave it some more thought and realized that there may be more to it than just employment...

Daddy and I have been together for a couple of years now and we couldn't be happier, and we're still just as Dominant and submissive as we've always been (phew!)...and I will be His for the rest of our lives. Period.

That being said, with challenging jobs, social engagements, working out, and the myriad of little things that make up our lives, it's easy to fall into routines. Yes, even D/s relationships can become routine... And no, routine is not the end of the D/s road. But, and let's be honest here, nobody wants to read about routine...can I get an "amen"?? I mean, the word itself - "routine" - conjures up visions of cranky, middle-aged, combed-over, muumuu wearing, bickering, sexless losers. (Now do you understand my use of the Ropers as my Pic of the Post??)

Does it mean that we don't love each other? Does it mean that we're not as committed to D/s as we once were?? Does it mean that all the really steamy, pervy posts are a thing of the past??? No, no...a million times no!

Well, then, what does it mean, Baby Girl?

Great question!

From my perspective, it means that we're venturing into a new phase in our D/s experience, one that is perhaps deeper and, if possible, more fulfilling than even we expected it to be. The routine of submission, in its own way, is indicative of the level of commitment and trust that we've established. We're firmly established in our patterns of Daddy and Baby Girl and would never have it any other way. It's the patterns and the normalcy of D/s in our lives that allow routine to be acceptable and not something to be feared.

I would love to hear from anyone who has felt routine in D/s as impending doom... I challenge you, as I challenge myself each day, to rethink your perspective and take stock in what you have. Is it that the wildfire of submissiveness (or Dominance) has fizzled out? Or is it that you're gradually stoking the flames of a love, lifestyle, and experience that will continue to flare up and smolder throughout the years to come?

It's your call to make.

Sex as Communication

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The Quickie

“Stroke my cock, baby girl. Stroke Daddy and make him nice and hard…”

We had just hopped into bed, indulging in one last quickie before Daddy had to leave on his two week business trip. Although I’m not sure that “quickie” captures all the wonderful nuances of what we shared that afternoon…what we’ll share for the rest of our lives. We both knew that two weeks apart would be difficult and that we would have a rough go of it, but Daddy helped me to refocus on the here and now…on us.

After he ordered me upstairs, we began to climb the stairs in unison, knowing that we would be heading directly for the bed. We undressed quickly and shimmied under the covers and Daddy ordered me to stroke his cock. Taking his thick shaft in my hand, I immediately felt him become firmer in my grasp. As I used soft touches and a light, but solid grip to caress and stroke my Daddy, he took my left nipple in his mouth and forcefully twisted my right nipple between his thumb and forefinger. Yet another twitch from Daddy’s cock as his baby girl moaned in ecstasy from his ministrations… Good little girls aren’t supposed to like getting touched by their Daddies that way…but after he commanded a couple orgasms from my body, I became aware that I couldn’t remember how I had ever cum before meeting my Daddy.

Continuing to suck on my nipple, his hand slid its way down my body and his fingers found their way to my slick pussy and swollen little clit. One more pussy-clenching orgasm for baby girl and then, in one swift movement, Daddy was on top of me with his cockhead at my opening. He looked deep into my eyes…looked through me…looked at the little girl that existed only for him… And then he was inside her, as deep as he could possibly get… Daddy pounded my pussy until he exploded in a roar of an orgasm.

Truth be told, there wasn’t any particular aspect about our sex session that made it vastly different from one of our “normal” sex sessions…but that’s precisely what made it so incredible. I was reminded that “normal” for us is a perpetually and infinitely fulfilling experience and that my life is intrinsically connected to one amazing man…a man who just happens to be my Daddy.

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!

Back to Basics

Ahhh…it’s nice to be back! Back to the daily routine after having a lovely visit with an out-of-town guest. Back to the job hunt. Back to the order of our life together. And, most importantly, back to the way that Daddy and I relate to one another best…in the context of our special brand of 24-7 D/s life.

After a couple days of sexual inactivity or limited activity, Daddy surprised me this morning as I came out of our bathroom. He was already naked and his massive cock was rock-hard, waiting for me. He ordered me back to the bed and, as I got on my back, he pounced on top of me. The passion and need that had been seething under the surface for the past few days finally came out and manifested themselves in the most pleasurable and painful way… Pushing into my unprepared pussy, Daddy ordered me to cum a number of times as he punished my insides with his cock.

Did it hurt? Yes.

Did I feel used? Yes.

Did I feel submissive? Yes.

Did it feel wonderful to serve Daddy in this way? YES!

Sometimes it’s nice to get back to basics…

On My Knees...

Where is my favorite place to worship you?
On my knees…

How can I let you know that I’m feeling small and in need of your warmth?
On my knees…

Where do I feel safe and protected by you?
On my knees…

How can I fully contemplate the majesty of your domination?
On my knees…

How can I give you pleasure unlike anything you’ve ever known?
On my knees…

How can I show my complete devotion to you?
On my knees…

Where will I happily spend the rest of my life?
On my knees…

I love you, Daddy…

A Session to Remember

“The next 45 minutes are yours, baby girl, but at 3:15 I want you in bed, naked, on top of the sheets, and ready for me. Do you understand?”

“Yes, Sir.” And cue the mental tornado…

Daddy had been home for about a week and a half by this point and we had been taking full advantage of our time together. It had been over a month since we’d had this much alone time and we were enjoying falling back into our rhythm. Daddy making love to his little girl, Daddy using his little girl, Daddy fucking and playing with his little girl, Daddy getting his cock sucked daily by his little girl…but there was one thing missing, one thing that we both knew had to take place. A serious bondage and pain session was in order and had been for some time…

Generally, if we only have a few days together, we focus on reconnecting sexually. And although there is always a D/s dynamic to everything we do (even making love), we don’t generally get into major pain sessions if time doesn’t allow for it. Daddy doesn’t want to be rushed or to have external factors force his hand. And, seeing as though he’s an excellent Dom and Master, I can see his point!

Now, back to that mental tornado…

As I lay back on the bed (half an hour earlier than scheduled), I had a pretty good idea that Daddy was going to hurt me…but how would he hurt me? Intense anal training? A rape session? Caning and whipping my ass and legs? Nipple clamps? I would soon find out.

Daddy blindfolded, gagged me, and bound me to the bed face-up by my wrists, and then he went about getting cleaned up and prepared for what he was going to do to me. I could barely hear him approach, but when I felt the first clamp on my nipple, I knew that we had officially begun our session. The terror mixed with excitement heightened every last sensation that he gave me. The second tight clamp was on and I heard the Hitachi come to life. As the deep ache coursed through my nipples, the wand kept me on the edge of orgasm. “Do you like this, baby girl?” he asked. I nodded and moaned in the affirmative. “Yeah, I thought you might,” as he ground the wand into my straining clit and ripped the clamps off, commanding me to cum. But he was just getting started…

The next thing I knew, as I could barely perceive his movements from audible clues, the cane came down on my left breast and then my right. The pain was as shocking as it was excruciating. Daddy has slapped and tortured my breasts and nipples with his hands and with clamps before, but he had never used the cane on them. The pain was almost unimaginable as he brought the vile instrument down again hard on each nipple. I cried out in pain behind the gag, almost screaming, as tears began to well up behind the blindfold. “Yes, I know that hurts you, little one, I want it to hurt.” He brushed my cheek with his hand and brought the wand back to my pussy. Painpleasurepainpleasurepainpleasure…that’s what Daddy likes to give his little girl. He wants me to crave the pain, and to never fear it as punishment.

With the wand pulled away (and after a couple of forced orgasms), I assumed that the caning would resume again…I was wrong. If I thought the cane was bad, the belt was worse. Daddy whipped my breasts and nipples with the belt to the point where I thought I might pass out from the pain. He landed a few direct strikes to my right nipple that I figured had most likely flayed it right off my breast. As the screams subsided, he climbed on top of me and shoved his throbbing cock into his little girl, forcing her open as he got deeper and deeper. When he reached his deepest thrusting point – right up against my cervix – he grabbed on to my right nipple, twisted hard, and commanded me to cum.

The pain was indescribably intense, the pleasure was perfect. The orgasm went straight past the catatonic white light orgasms that he will sometimes get out of me… The scream that emanated from my lungs at that moment was unlike anything he or I had ever heard before, even with the gag in… I wailed, I cried, I thrashed, I came…harder than I ever have before. I went limp.

As Daddy curled up beside me, releasing me from my bonds, and removing the gag and blindfold, he pulled me close to him and told me what a good girl I was. “You took so much pain from your Daddy, little girl. So much pain…but you liked it, didn’t you? We both know you need that, little one, and that I’m the only one who can give it to you…” I closed my eyes, buried my head in his chest, registered the still-searing pain in my breasts, and shook, knowing that I was safe, sound, and centered….and, above all, happy.

I won’t be forgetting this session any time soon…