I am nothing without him, I am his slave

He is so close, I can feel his breath behind my ear. His weight half upon me. I can feel the smooth skin of his chest across my shoulder blade. And the silky material of the sheet as he pushes it away from me, down over my torso, dragging it over my hip. The air is a little chilly without the cover and my skin prickles. He is so warm and I want to stay in his warmth, I move to get closer and he stills me with a hand upon my hip bone. I am thin, the skin there is porcelain with blue veins under Daddy’s well-weathered palm. He has beautiful hands, a workman’s’ suntanned hands. So strong. I can see the strength in that hand, stilling me.

His chest inflates, I can hear the burr of his voice before a word is spoken. He growls at me, “This will hurt.”

Yes, Daddy, it will hurt me.

The strength that stilled me caresses my hip. Over the bone so close to the skin, into the hollow beside my small mound, between my legs and back. With his thumb, he hooks his grip on my hip bone and applies pressure, more pressure, so much pressure and… pain. This is my favorite pain. His hand is a vice, I can feel the bruise begin as he breaths in through the veil of my hair. The grip loosens and his hand smooths over the pale porcelain of my thigh. His hand has no callus, but it is so very strong.

His hand holds weight beyond physical strength; the wielder of true power. Power over me.

His hand reaches beneath me, lifting me up towards him. The faint kiss behind my ear takes my breath and I can feel his weight shift over me. My nipples tighten underneath me as both his hands grab my hips. That firm grip of his, pulling my body around, ass up and knees out. He whispers, “arms up for Daddy”. I flatten my chest to the bed, arms up towards my head and bent upward next to my ears. I clasp my hands over my head.

I do not question. Trust.

Behind me, I can feel him between my legs. The heat of his body near me. I can feel the air change. Even the air gets excited near him, charged with energy. His large hand slaps upward, just under my cheek, not thigh and not ass, somewhere in between and so close to my lips. It stings. Again. Closer to my lips. The other side, the same sting. His full hand covers my lips, my clit, my core. With each arc of his hand, the sound of contact becomes sharper. I can feel the deep pink recesses of me plumping up, swelling. The crack of his work-worn hand upon the most delicate part of me is getting louder as I get wet for him. He moves his hand just a little and his palm contacts over bone. It hurts. That hurts. Again and again until it dulls. When he moves his hand again, I miss the impact, the exquisite pleasure in that pain. I want to feel his hand slapping over the bone. I want to feel the burn and the suddenness of contact with my clit, the concussion to my core.

His hand falls away. This will hurt.

Against my thigh, I feel the leather. It is so heavy, each strip thick and soft. The handle is weighted for him alone. Perfect for his massive right hand, wielder of power over me; my body, my mind. There is no tease into the swing and arc, swift movement and the many lashes thud down across my ass. Fire. It feels like fire and ice. The leather caresses as it slides down between my cheeks, soft as it swings against my inner thigh and catches on a swollen lip. The tassels rain down and I feel them like water too hot or too cold. My body wants to pull away. I stay; ass up, knees out, chest down, hands clasped above my head. The leather strikes and splays covering my ass and my lower back. The weight is beyond compare. I’m breathing heavily, I’ve been biting the sheets. My nails are digging into my hands. Across my thighs, the thud comes after the sting. I can feel every strand of leather and the path it made across my pale skin. Three strands slapped across my lips, one grazed my clit and two of them splattered my wetness on my legs. Again, thud and burn. The whip makes a sound before I feel it, air singing between the tassels. My toes curl and uncurl. My scalp tightens and I find myself wanting another lash. The length of leather drags from shoulder to ass, some strips sliding over my sides, soft; some dragging over the swelling pink skin marking my back as Daddy’s. The tassels slide down over my skin and pool between my parted knees.

I will not move.

Daddy’s hands grip my hips, all strength and power. I feel weightless. I know I am being bruised over those bones, but it feels so very good. It is such a contrasting pain. My lips are engorged from the spanking, the wet part of me leaking out forming rivulets over my raw skin. It tickles and stings. Daddy’s leg grazes my inner thigh, I can feel him behind me, over me, so close. Large hands grabbing my ass, the grip is so hard it hurts. It hurts. His thumb rimming my tight little pucker, feeling inside that tight tight rim. Both thumbs dip inside. I know it will hurt.

I will not fight. I have given my submission.

His thumbs work into me, slowly opening me, readying me. Deeper he pushes them. I like it, I want to push against him forcing more inside. I do not. His thumbs move away, and I feel his head dragging over my wet core to my clit and back again. Hands grabbing and pulling my cheeks apart, the skin pulling, stretching, it might split me. His smooth head is there, where his thumbs were. I can feel the pressure, my excitement building. I expect the rock of his hips to bring him into me. His grip tightens, my flesh squeezed tight in his hands. No warning, no rocking hips. The surprise takes me as he slams home. I scream into the bed. My body gone ridged, sweat springs out over my lip and in the hollow of my back. My tight little hole grabbing him like a vice, spasming around his hard shaft. The pain is white hot. My body is so small and he is so huge.

Trust. He will push me. He will not destroy me.

My body is hyperaware of each movement. He pulls back. I feel every inch of him with amazing clarity. He slams home again. I can still feel his hands in my flesh, but now he has my hair in his hand. My head up off the bed, elbows down, back arched to an incredible angle. The pain is competing, overloading my senses and his thrusts become faster, harder. He’s stroking all the way in, touching so deep inside me. At the precipice of my orgasm I feel every movement, my nipples are barely touching the sheet and it feels so right, that bit of friction distracting me, taking all of the other sensations away for a moment.

I submit to him.

Through the pain I surrender and it no longer hurts. I feel it, but it is changed. The edge is gone, a tingle moving through me so deep and warm, I lose myself. My whole body shakes, knees weak, muscle control gone. I’m cumming. It’s running down my legs like warm water, pooling at my knees. Daddy is pushing, fast and oh so hard. I want more. I push back to take all of him, that wide part that makes me cry and makes him breath out in a rush.

Patience is a lesson.

Daddy lets go my hair, grabbing my hips. Fingers digging in, holding only bone. My knees leave the bed as he picks me up and drives into my ass. Thrusting so fast and hard, so deep my belly is starting to cramp. His sack slapping my lips and my swollen clit, so wet I can feel the droplets of my orgasm splashing my thighs. Ramming himself into me so hard I can feel my ass bruising. I’m burning, on fire. Tears streak my face. Daddy’s breathing has changed, his thighs are tight against me. He pulls me onto him completely, so close to him there is only us. He thrusts, so hard my teeth clack, the hair on the back of my neck prickles. The sweat on my back is making tracks down my sides, I can feel it as it falls away from my skin. The skin slapping my lips tightens, his breath hits me in a rush. I feel his seed shoot hot inside my swollen ass. I can feel his cum leaking out around his shaft with each movement in and back. Daddy’s strokes slow as he lowers me onto the bed. Ass still up, he puts his hand in the middle of my back to keep me from moving away. He pulls out of me but stays between my knees.

This will hurt.

I can feel the sheet beneath my face, so soft. Daddy’s warm hand in the middle of my back is comforting. Each second brings an acute awareness of my body. The pulsing of my pucker from the sound fucking, the stripes across my back from the whipping, the swollen lips from the spanking. The muscles in my legs start to shake. I cannot control it. Daddy’s other hand is firm and strong as he takes hold of my leg.

I am not done.

Daddy holds my leg until the shaking stops. His body between my knees. I feel his warm breath against my cheek. His one hand on my back, the other moving up over the pale skin marked pink. One finger finds its way between my engorged lips into my hot wet walls. I shiver, goosebumps mark my arms, my legs. My lips are raw, each movement stings but the feeling of his finger is so perfect. He strokes that part of me that swells for him. Another finger pushing in. I want to rock back on him. I do not. He pushes into me, pulling my red raw lips. My nipples tighten. The sweat on my back is sticky. My pucker is a pulsing ball of heat and he rubs me deep inside. The third finger pulls my skin tight at my core stretching me. My clit is swelling out of its hood. My orgasm is building. Twisting his hand, what was dry, rubbing and pulling at raw flesh becomes slick in my wetness. The sting and the burn are excruciating. Pressure and pain. It doesn’t fit and it is hurting. The bones in his fingers contact bone. The air feels cool against the sweat on my sides. My sensitive flesh feels like its ripping and still he pushes in and twists. It feels so good. Four fingers. I’m so wet it splashes each time he pushes into me. His hand on my back pulls me toward the hand twisting to be inside me. Stretching, pulling, rubbing inside. I’m so full. So very full. It hurts. It hurts. It hurts.

Please push me harder.

His knuckles catch on bone once, twice, twist. The puddle beneath my knees squishes and his fist forces its way home. Oh, it hurts. It hurts. It feels so good. So so full. He twists, raw lips twist, the skin at my core stretching around his wrist. He pulls back. So much pressure. It’s so tight. His knuckles are so broad. Pulling my whole body with his hand. Pushing in. Fucking me with his hand. Slowly, slowly then fast so fast I lose my breath. My legs can no longer support me. I’m shaking uncontrollably. The pain is gone all that is left is sensation. Full. Then, he twists. It’s that spot. He knows that place. My arms splay wide from my body, my back arches. That sweet spot inside me explodes. His hand pulls in and back, in and back, in and… my orgasm splashes him, it’s running down my legs. I cry out, my body belongs to him. Toes curled into the bed, biting into the sheets, he wrings every last bit of orgasm out of me with the twist of his large hand. Collapsed and shaking, he pulls his fist from me, knuckles dragging past all my swollen freshly fucked flesh. Nothing has ever hurt worse than that. The last pain. That pain when he was no longer in me.

I love you always.

His lips touch my thigh. Such a light kiss. He eases my hips to the bed, climbs up next to me. I am engulfed in his embrace. His body so warm around me. His powerful hands feather soft against my arm as he caresses me; pushes my hair from my face. He kisses my ear. I can feel the growl of his voice as he tells me, “You are so beautiful when you scream like that”.

I am nothing without him, I am his slave.

 

Yes, Daddy, it will hurt me.

He is the wielder of true power. Power over me.

I do not question. Trust.

This will hurt.

I will not move.

I will not fight. I have given my submission.

Trust. He will push me. He will not destroy me.

I submit to him.

Patience is a lesson.

This will hurt.

I am not done.

Please push me harder.

I love you always.

I am nothing without him, I am his slave.

 

Tasking For Babygirl

Task: Wear a skirt out in public with no panties underneath. Take a selfie or have someone take a clear up skirt photo that shows your naughty bits and give a good indication that you are in a public place. Bonus points if you ask a stranger to take the picture.

When Daddy gave me this task I thought… Ha, I got this. I did have it, but it wasn’t as easy as I thought it would be. My task took over a week to complete, not because I couldn’t run out and snap some pics up my skirt, but because I wanted to give Daddy my effort. True effort and not a quick. “I did it”, only giving him the easiest of the task without even trying for the Bonus points.

To start out, I of course dressed to take the pics in a skirt and blouse. I didn’t wear something I was uncomfortable with. I normally do wear panties, even if I am wearing a thong, I’m a panty kind of girl. Being commando wasn’t entirely uncomfortable but it was out of my comfort zone. Knowing that I would be in public without panties, was a little harder to stomach but erotic at the same time. I couldn’t help the wetness that came to my lips, nor the swelling that engorged them.

As I walked through the store to find that one place where, no one would see what I was doing, my hands started to sweat and my heart beat raced. I could feel my skin prickle. I settled for the shoe department. Not only was it isolated, I could sit down and take a picture. While I was sitting there with the camera under my skirt, a man walked to the front of the aisle, turned and looked directly at me. My first thought was “oh crap”. He just stood there looking at me with no real emotion on his face. It both scared me and excited me. I quickly put my phone in my purse, got up and walked away. My heart was beating out of my chest and I was breathing heavily. The slippery wetness between my legs was so very obvious to me with each step. I feared it was obvious to everyone I passed on the way to my car. When I reached the car, I took another picture.
Being that I had exhausted that particular store I thought of another, just off the highway that is not usually too busy and went there. It wasn’t as hard to take the pictures then. I was more aware and I it was less crowded, my anxiety was not as high. On my way to my car I took another pic at which point the wind kicked up and I flashed all the traffic on the highway. “Wow, un-fucking-believable”, not only have I been caught by some strange man in the shoe department, I have now shown my ass to the entire highway during traffic. Heart beating, the slickness of my lips, the feeling of being naughty and being caught were all too much and I had to touch myself right there in the drivers’ seat of my car. I wondered how physically effected I was by the erotic nature of my task, I just had to feel how wet I was. My lips were not just slick, they were wet and I found that sitting down I had a fist sized puddle beneath me. I buried my fingers inside my tight walls, pumping and pushing, finding that one spot… that little swell that brought me that release in needed so badly. My plastered to my face the perspiration dotting my arms and running down the crack of my ass I found the edge of bliss and crossed it, shuddering into the steering wheel and moaning to myself.

During the week I became over anxious that I would not receive bonus points. I was thinking a great deal about who could I ask; a stranger… and that made me nervous. With Daddy at home with me, I have support I do not have by myself. I wasn’t aware of how much I really rely on Daddy to just be with me. He is so supportive of me, he is my safety and my home… he is my strength and my love. I expressed to him that asking a stranger to take the pics meant erotic things to me, but also it meant I was open for rejection. Daddy took my concerns and dealt with them in a way I did not imagine he would. He asked someone we do not know to help me complete my task.

I had a few days to think about the meeting Daddy arranged and what that would mean to me. With rejection aside, I felt fine. I felt fine until I was getting dressed. Daddy asked that I wear a certain dress that he bought for me. It’s a lovely dress, a flowy pale green dress and very very short. As I put the dress on I grew more and more uncomfortable, self-conscious and nervous. I saw another dress in my closet, a pull over burgundy with turquoise designs, which I have not worn before and tried it on. I was not feeling the same self-consciousness in that one. It was closer fitting with a belt to pull it in to my waist, not as flowy and pretty as the green dress but just as short. If I bent over at all, my goodies would be on display for anyone to see. I made a choice then and hoped it would not detract from the accomplishment of my task. I wore the dress I was more comfortable in because I was starting to feel the weight of my task, I was afraid that I would be so self-conscious that I would give up the bonus points and just walk away.
Driving to the place I was meeting the “photographer” (loosely used here, he was no more than a play date candidate that agreed to put his hand up my skirt and snap some pics), my foot started shaking on the accelerator. I was sweating and my chest and face were flushed. I could feel the hair on the back of my neck raise. I was so far out of my comfort zone. I wanted to call Daddy just to hear his voice. As I pulled into the parking lot I was in panic. Panic is not what I thought the desired outcome of this task was. Then I looked in my phone at Daddy’s picture. I took a deep breath and said to myself, this is all about pushing me outside of what is comfortable for me; what I am “willing” to do. I thought, I am willing, but I don’t want to show myself. I do not want to be vulnerable.
Just then I saw the man in the red shirt I was meeting. I swallowed my fear and got out of the car before I lost my nerve. We introduced ourselves and talked a little while. As I sat there I realized I could do it. Although I was nervous the entire time I sat there, it eased. I realized I was soaking wet, my lips were swollen and I could feel the pulse of my pink puffy walls wanting release. My thighs were so slick they were sliding, only held in place because I crossed my legs at the knee.

This man in the red shirt was as nervous to take the pics as I was to spread my legs and have them taken. By the time he lost his nervousness or gained courage, there were at least 20 people sitting within earshot of us. He took several pictures then with people walking around, talking, and not noticing that I was spreading my legs; baring my wet snatch for photos while they drank their beer.

The adrenaline rush that overtook me on the drive home was amazing. I crashed into my bed on my stomach, hands rubbing my slick clit. I pumped my fingers into myself so hard I’m sure I bruised. I found that little swell inside me that I stroked and pushed. It took only a moment to feel the crashing weight of orgasm take me. I shook violently, face in the pillow, hands and legs wet. The task completed I let go of all and just fell into the release.
My task completed, I have learned more than it’s exciting and erotic to push the envelope. I’ve learned how much I depend upon my Daddy to be the strength that holds me. I am the victorious winner of bonus points for stepping way beyond what I would elect to do on my own. I can walk outside the limits of what I consider taboo. This task was erotic and exciting, it gave me an overdose of adrenaline that I would like to enjoy and capitalize on with my Daddy.
There will be a next time, and Daddy will be in the pics… pushing his fingers in me while people walk past us.

 

 

 

 

Discipline?

The exquisite pain of spanking makes the pleasure that much more unforgettable.
When it starts it’s punishment, but for me it is an agony in controlled desire. For this my Daddy knows is what makes it punishment to me, I cannot control myself when the sting burns over me and takes what it wants. When Daddy says “bend over my knee”, my heart races and my breath comes shallow. Goosebumps prickle my skin and I flush. I become awkward and clumsy with the adrenaline from my anticipation.
Carefully bending over Daddy’s knee in just the right way, I can feel the cloth of his slacks against my nipples and for the barest of seconds I could smell his cologne. His voice rumbles “count for me babygirl”. And before I start I bite my lip to draw the first sting away from my bottom. The first sting is the worst one.
“One Daddy”. The sound of his hand slapping across my bare bottom cracks through the room. All the more deafening for the sting. I feel that sting take hold and the clumsy adrenaline starts to become focused and purposeful.
“Two Daddy”. The crack of his hand stifles my thoughts. I am centering myself without knowing I am. There is only Daddy’s hand across my bum.
“Three Daddy”. The crack seems less loud but more biting. The sting is rising over my skin toward the top of my tight round bottom and down to mid thigh. I can feel my labia catching fire.
“Four Daddy”. I raise my head just slightly to shake off the cool air that’s warring over my skin against the sting of Daddy’s hand. I feel the grip across my back tighten and before I can count again his hand meets skin. The sting is building, bringing that slick wetness to the opening of me.
“Five Daddy”. I can no longer feel the cool air. I can only feel the burn and the sting. All that pink fluffy me contracts, I can feel it building. The untouchable orgasm is getting closer.
“Six Daddy”. I am waiting for it. I want to cry out and moan at the same time when the smack falls across my reddened skin. I stifle myself in a woof of breath. I know he can see me glistening with slick honey. His breathing changes and his grip moves.
“Seven Daddy”. The change in Daddy’s breathing is distracting and I move just a bit. Quickly his grip tightens and again I receive another smack, this time harder and more forceful. The rhythm is broken and the sting returns, burning. Daddy pushes my legs open wide. I feel his whole hand cover me. He is coating his palm in my juice, rubbing up and down just the one time. The swelling inside me is unbearable. I want to tell him to spank me here.
“Eight Daddy”. His hand meets my skin in a wet slap. For a brief second I feel his hand slide slightly, my focus is returning. The sting and the burn are the same. I can feel it in my nipples, so hard and aching. My clit peeking out of her hood catches the air screaming MORE!
“Nine Daddy”. It hurts so good. The crack of wet hand and skin is electric, I am awakened inside and out. I can feel the honey of me running down my labia. The burning of my bottom is nothing compared to the burning inside me. I swell with every contraction of muscles. With every movement Daddy makes I feel him, only him. Our breathing is mirrored. I can feel his focus upon me.
“Ten Daddy”. The lights seem to fade for a moment as the world becomes Daddy’s touch upon my ass. Ten is the best number of all. The world fell away when Daddy touched me. I was swollen so much and then, it was his touch that gave me the stars in the sky. The orgasm took me, squeezed me and gave me that one thing… Daddy’s delight. As the orgasm squirted from me Daddy chuckled and said “Ten more”.

Stepping Stones

It is best, I think, to view our lives together as stepping stones to now. We shouldn’t regret them nor forget them but respect that they are the path to our current stone. We have both stepped on the slick side of a stone, yet we still walk together.
Letting go of ego can be painful and extremely hard, but it allows the past to fall away and the future to loom up over and consume us. We have all done things that we could wish to change. That is human. To relive the emotion of those things is different than remembering what we would change if we could. The emotion is best left in the past so the future isn’t tainted with past hurts.
It’s very painful and very hard to let go of ego. I have a big ego, probably quite large for a woman. I take great pride in my accomplishments, but I down play my failures. An accomplishment is of average importance if there has been little failure. Even on a subconscious level I have laid blame; “I react because of…” The reality is that I react and I have a propensity to react badly. There is cause and effect in everything however when I remove ego it becomes much clearer in my mind and my heart. I fail.
Living right now, feeling right now and loving right now… I can because I have lived with the pain of my own failure. It is so very hard to admit wrongs, dishonesty, lack of trust and jealousy; I am admitting those, taking responsibility for my shortcomings and failures.
I am no longer laying blame, giving an excuse or omitting those things that my ego plays upon. In that I can free myself of the emotions of past failure. I am all I have ever been; a failure, accomplished, saddened, joyful, in-love, lonely, happy and loved. I am all of them and more but I got here by admitting that I am all of them.
This is a journey that we are taking together. There is no “I” in our name. We are experiencing our roles together, finding what works and what doesn’t. Our roles do not fit most of the “models” we have read about. We may be the “model” for a different kind of relationship. Our life together has been long, we’ve done things we could wish to change and things we could wish would never end. To build from here we have to start again, by remembering old hurts and failures, ego and distrust but leaving the emotions out of the memories. The only way to accomplish this is with honesty and communication.

Daddy Comes Home

I can hear his car pull into the driveway. I rush to the bedroom to get into place. I quickly assume that position Daddy likes me to be in to greet him. Naked, kneeling with my ankles and ass on the floor, back arched to show off my curves, palms up on my thighs, chin up and eyes down. I can hear him as the door closes, moving through the house towards the room. My anticipation builds. My heart pounds in my chest. I want my daddy. I feel myself getting slick. The inner walls of my pussy are getting thick, swelling. With my eyes down I can’t see him when the door opens. I hope I‘m not too wet. I don’t want my honey to run down my leg when I stand. Daddy closes the door. My walls contract. My nipples harden in the clamps and I can feel the flush start across my chest. He is inspecting my posture, looking to make sure I‘m stretching properly. Am I to his standard? My heart is racing. I try to steady my breathing. He walks around me and stops in front of me. I can see his wing tips and his slacks are navy blue. He‘s so sexy. My pussy clenches down, I‘m more than slick. I can feel that I‘m wet on the floor. Daddy is loosening his belt. I hear the clang of the buckle. His thumb runs over my left nipple making it spring up firm in its wake. He sends the chain swinging pulling both nipples which is like electrical current straight into my fluffy pink pussy. Ah yes, I want that touch. Warm and deliberate.

Daddy says to me, “I have this for you, you may look slowly to only my hands”. As his zipper goes down. I lift my eyes to see what is for me. He‘s reaching into his pants to pull out his cock. My clit is swelling out of its hood I want to move to grind it into the floor, but I must stay still, in a preferred position. My body is betraying me. My nipples are as hard as stone and aching. With each breath, the chain on the clamps swings bringing me closer to losing my position. My lips are wet and swollen hiding my opening but not keeping my honey inside. My clit is pushing its way between my full lips. And his thick cock is in his hand. I want to taste him. I want to feel him in the back of my throat. I lick my bottom lip.

Daddy chuckles and his voice rumbles, “ah-ah you are not allowed to lick your lips until I tell you to”. His voice alone is a gift. I feel a rush of fluid over my labia as if I peed. I return my eyes to my lap. Daddy steps closer, reaches down and loops a finger in the nipple chain. Ahhhhh it pinches but… Goosebumps sprout across my lower belly and my legs. My asshole clenches the butt plug. My whole body reacts with a slow shiver. Daddy lifts my chin and I feel the smooth skin of his head across my lips. I want to open my mouth but have not been given permission. I can smell his musk, it‘s him, my daddy. So soft and hard against my lips and my cheek. He rubs his cock across my face, marking me with the scent of him. My whole body is aware of him, the hair at the base of my neck stands and the skin on my neck prickles. I‘m so wet I can’t tell if there is a puddle.

“Open your mouth“, Daddy says. I open my mouth with him already there pushing my lips open. So smooth I want to lick him I want to look into his eyes. I open wider and in comes his head so full for me. As the rim of him enters my mouth I close my lips around him feeling the whole head of him, running my tongue around him.

Daddy’s rough voice says, “have you been a good girl today?” I cannot answer, my mouth is full. I cannot move my body out of position. He pulls the chain to my nipples. “Answer me,” he says. I shake my head up and down just slightly.

“Ah-ah you aren’t allowed to move BabyGirl.” In a nanosecond, his cock is balls deep in my mouth. My nipples are a fire burning as he tugs the chain. His dick in my throat makes me gag and salivate. I move ever so slightly and my clit touches the floor. I open my mouth all the way. Daddy moves backwards letting me breathe, but pushes back in. I close my lips around him again and taste him, all of him. I want my tongue on every part of his shaft, licking every vein and ridge. The saliva leaks from the side of my mouth as he pulls out again, and then he eases into a rhythm. Fucking my mouth I feel him deep in my throat; hitting behind my tonsils, pushing into the tight part that he likes. He is so hot in my mouth I suck on him, a gentle suction as much as I can give. I want more, harder faster. I gag. Daddy puts his hand to my cheek in gentle direction that gagging will not happen. His hard dick pushing in and out across my lips, making the inside of my lips raw from friction and my sucking. Daddy pushes so hard into me I gag and my head moves back, but his strong hand is behind my head. He thrusts further in and I feel him tighten. His cock pulses and a strong jet of cum spurts in my throat filling my mouth. I want to swallow, but he is in my mouth. I can taste his seed and smell it. I want to swallow but it’s dribbling out the sides of my mouth. I don’t want to waste it. I feel the chain as daddy pulls it upward slowly. My nipples pulling my breasts upward. Aaahhhh I can feel the pull in my pussy.

His other hand lifts my chin and he says, “look at me babygirl”. His cock in my mouth, cum dripping from my mouth onto my chest, I look up to my Daddy’s blue eyes. He tells me, “you are so beautiful babygirl. I love to see you this way. But you moved and you made a puddle on the floor so you need to be taught a lesson. Do not swallow.”

He pulls his dick out of my mouth and chuckles.

Putting the puzzle together

Over the course of our marriage, we‘ve experienced so very much together. Nothing could have prepared us for our role changing in the way we are experiencing it now. Our relationship as Daddy and Baby Girl seems like a name to the roles we‘ve both played at and needed for the 20 years we‘ve been together. As an Alpha female in my professional life, I‘ve needed something to balance me in my personal life and my bed. Naturally, Daddy has always been dominate. Not consciously knowing and recognizing the roles we play in all the aspects of our lives has hampered us in our personal and sexual growth. When we tripped over the subject of cosplay, Daddy mentioned a baby doll outfit in an offhanded “she doesn’t want to consider it” kind of way. He was shocked and disbelieving when I told him I like that, a lot. I haven’t always shared my wants and needs with my Daddy. In a way I believe it was the Alpha in me not wanting to seem weak although conversely, I have always felt that I needed to be taken care of, to be safe, protected and even punished. Our conversation grew, and pieces of the puzzle started to move together. We can both look back over the course of our relationship and see where we both needed to, and probably should have, been in a D/s marriage. The Daddy/Baby Girl model is more suited to us than any other BDSM roles. Not only do we have a history, we have the deepest love and respect for each other, and we are neither sadistic nor masochistic. Our D/bg relationship is built on sensuality, personal and sexual growth. The hard play, rules, punishment and reward are all parts of the puzzle we are putting together as Daddy and Baby Girl. The puzzle pieces are the facets of our personalities that we couldn’t find a place to fit into the roles we had assumed were correct.

A new begining as BabyGirl and Daddy D/s

After 19 years of marriage some times you find out somthing new about your partner. Every once in a blue moon you find that thing that brings you closer than you have ever been to them. The feeling that it is just like you are meeting each other for the first time all over again. My wife and I think we have found that thing and would like to try to tell our story here. Yes we know that no one may read it, but thats not what matters to us. Being able to put our feelings and advetures into words helps us to open up more and makes our bond stronger.

 Can any one recommend reading material about the Daddy Dom life style, or books that teach BDSM of this kind? We have found a lot of books but mostly poorly written “Smut”, for lack of a better term. We are looking for well writen teaching guides to help us understand and explore deeper into this life style.