adrift without a D to my s

I have been thinking after a quick read over on Vesta's blog and her post 'home coming'. It occurs to me that with Local D away and I am feeling a little homeless.  A little lost disjointed and disconnected. I am achy and pouty and bloody needy tonight. I feel a sense of displacement. There is no comfortable peace, just the frustration of waiting and wanting for a place to rest. 

The greedy lil girl can't take phone calls easily and Local D's work commitments means he is not readily contactable, although if I text he does text back within a few hours (not terrific when one is seeking permission to cum!). He is in such remote locations that he hasn't even got internet access!! there's my first world problem for today.

Non-Dom asked if Local D had gone away. I nodded and said I was a little stir crazy. I said I was missing the kiss of the flogger, the sting of his hand. To his credit, Non-Dom held me by the throat and kissed me hard..bringing a smile to the girls face and to a some degree bringing me home.

unknown photographer. Source: Internet

a walking shadow, a poor player, that struts and frets his hour upon the stage

...so Shakespear says...

I throw around a lot of characters. It's a deliberate act designed to obscure whats really going on. Partly I guess because this blog was never started to find an audience but as a journal for me. Somewhere I could keep my secrets and live in anonymity without the risk of ever being found out.

Since I started though, I am aware that there are people who read my journey and appear to read regularly, not thousands but enough that I feel want to lay out the cast a little more clearly. There are people now also with whom I converse if we happen to pass each other in certain IM applications (you know who you are). They are people I admire for the words and stories they write. Truth be told it is all those people who belong here, not me. This is just a journal. I am a visual artist more than an artist of the written word. In the vanilla world I express myself with pictures of one kind or another. So why not a picture blog or tumblr? Well, we come back to the journal. The need for me to record my journey of secrets in words. Not Tumblr because my pictures are my own, and to retain some sort of intellectual property rights over ones creativity, tumblr is not the way to share. So I post on the Internet but in a vanilla picture 'sharing' site. One or two of my pictures have been sucked into tumblr and pinterest, but on the whole not too many have vanished.

So here is the cast as it stands,

Non-Dom (respectfully) - My partner of about 15 years. We have tried D/s together but it was clear early on that the exploration I needed to pursue was not for him. After long and protracted negotiations, non-Dom gave his permission for me to seek a Dominant male outside our relationship. This is not something he would normally do and there are boundaries that must be observed. For the moment I am happily complying with these limits but life has a funny habit of changing a girl and I am aware that this may not always be the case. Part of his decision turns him on, the other part disturbs him. He fears that I will fall in love with a Dominant man and leave for the greener grass. I will do everything in my power to prevent this from happening because as we all know the greener grass is always astro-turf and that would be the ultimate betrayal don't you think?

Marvellous Mentor (Daddy) - geographically distant and chronologically my senior MM or Daddy has been part of this journey for a around a year now. Truth be told I'm not really sure when I received his email first. He was an open man sending me an open email. I remember it being so open that I was concerned for this privacy. What if I was someone who could not be trusted? I took it as a naivety on his part, but I don't think so, I think he is just a trusting man and can 'read' a lot into a person by what they write. I think he had been reading my blog for a while before he sent me an email. We emailed a lot and I opened up to him in the most extraordinary of ways. he began to mentor me. To guide me and support me albeit from a great distance. He was so open with his life that it became clear very early on that we had a huge number of parallels in our lives. He had contacted me at a time in my life when I was struggling emotionally, psychologically, physically, in fact in every way imaginable. He was a welcome relief in the daily struggle that my life was then. I was always aware too how easily he trusted me with who he was and what his life was. He is an amazing man and I am grateful that he chose to stick with me that way he did. He is the one who can be credited with finding a lot of the pictures here on this blog. He always seems to know where I am and what I am thinking.

Local D (Mister) - well here is the new-comer to the group. He is the local man I have found to explore TTWD with. I have secrets from him. I trust him with my safety but not yet my secrets. We had talked for months before we met and we have just begun to play physically. A mind blowing moment in my journey. So He is the one I thought I would never find let alone be brave enough to be with offline and into the real world.

How is non-Dom coping? Well in short, the first encounter with Local D was not good for us (non-Dom and me). Non-Dom found the marks on my breasts confronting. More bloody negotiation! In reality this is a journey that we are both taking. A man who will let his wife explore with other men something that he won't, can't or for what even reason give her, is not to be sneezed at or discredited. To me this is one of the bravest and kindest acts of any man. II am not such a good and selfless person, I could not do the same for him.

to the heart of it

Daddy (Marvellous Mentor) has a way of cutting through all the crap that flys around my brain and coming straight to the point.

Sent to me privately and I have permission to post it here....

"What you need to learn is that HE is in charge and if HE is not pleased with your obedience you will be punished. It is not about what you feel or want anymore young lady, it is about what HE decides you've earned and need."

When I showed these words to Local D..well He just thought that was the best thing he'd ever heard.
I kind of like how these two men, worlds apart both geographically and in their life paths seem to agree on how to treat their girl. The sick lil puppy finds that a bit of  turn on.

waiting to serve

The knock on the door made her shiver. The hairs on her skin stood erect forced to attention by the goosebumps. She was not cold, He had made sure the fire in the drawing room was roaring.

She stood in corner of the drawing room, waiting as instructed. Her hands were clasped at the elbows behind her back effecting the proud push of her breasts. The curve of her plump hip accentuated her slit separating her bare mound. Her delicate silver collar which she wore daily in public had been replaced tonight by Daddy. Her neck was now ringed with wide heavy leather. An O ring in front at her throat was adorned with a short chain leash that hung between her breasts. Her nipples were pink and matched the blush of her plain full lips. She was visiting Daddy's home, he said she was to be a special treat for his friends. A couple whom Daddy and his wife had cultivated and shared intimate moments.

Daddy's wife Ginny rested on the couch reading a magazine. She was indifferent to the girl as she stood not 10 feet from her. Daddy's girl was an fine piece of furniture, a lamp to light the corner of the room. Ginny never paid too much attention to her husbands girl except when he instructed her to do so. She was more excited about her friends arriving to share the evening Sir and she had planned.

The girl couldn't keep her eyes from Ginny's perfection. She admired the way she held herself. Sir had chosen Ginny above all women to keep and love. The girl loved Ginny for that reason. Everything Ginny did in the girl's eye was perfect. The way she held the magazine in her hand was as expert and gentle as the way she wielded the crop when Sir instructed her to redden his girl's arse. Daddy's girl was nothing but pleased to be submissive to his wife. To hold a place second to his wife made the girl wet and shiver just to think of it. She watched Ginny lost in her magazine, so full of grace and perfect in her submission to Sir. Her breasts were free under the sheer blouse she wore for the evening, her  round pink nipples traced by the fall of the fabric. The girl could see the rose perfection of Ginny's areolar. It made her shiver to be reminded of her lips exploring Ginny's nipples.

The knock on the door pulled her sharply from her reverie. Ginny looked up at their entertainment for the evening meeting the girls eyes. A smile at the corners of her mouth sent a shiver of excitement through the girl, the throb in her pussy had begun.

Daddy entered the room, his commanding energy unmistakable. He walked across the room to his girl. His hand slid between her thighs. "Slick. You are my little slut aren't you? Now go and let our guests in, they have been waiting long enough."

The girl moved to the door, she was nervous, excited and a little embarrassed. She didn't know what to expect, she has never been shared like this before, never on show! She had always been for the private use of Daddy and his wife should he wish it. Now he was opening her, exposing her to his friends, strangers to her. She trusted that Daddy would keep her safe. She trusted that he would never allow her to be harmed. She trusted Daddy with everything. There was a nagging doubt though, this exposure was almost terrifying to her, but the excitement she felt was undeniable.

She opened the door, naked as the day she was born, except of course for the collar, Daddy's collar. Her eyes were lowered. She couldn't look at them, not directly but she could feel the couple's eye travelling over her body. She wondered if she might be touched now.

Daddy moved up behind her greeting his guests. 'I mentioned I would have a surprise for you this evening."

"Mmm. Yes, this is going to be a pleasure!" the male guest said. His wife passed the girl behind her husband, reaching her cool hand out she brushed the girls nipples with her delicate touch and a quick pinch sending a thrill through Daddy's girl.

"Now Darling, we haven't been invited to touch."

waiting to serve  - artist unknown

la petite mort

I undertook my task


We were going out..and I didn't have long, but the timeframe was drawing to a close.


I sat on the corner of the bed right next to my hub. I lifted my skirt and exposed my pantiless self. I layed back and with my left hand (I am left handed) I began to play. He loves to watch me play. His face intently watching over my play, taking in every second, his nostrils drawing in my scent. I closed my eyes and stretched out hard as I do.


My mind travelled to Daddy, at his feet, on my knees, watching me play, collar and leash.


My body responding to the play on my clit and the play in my mind was intense. P squeezed and kneeded my arse as he watched me all over.

Daddy in my mind, the cold of his geography making my nipples hard..the excitement I feel being at your feet.


Relaxed afterwards, he kissed me again and again as I held his hard cock in my hand my fingers stroking his balls.



 photographer unknown, via internet



the danger of the delicious little whore

He's away. Daddy's away. Out of her reach.

She is needy...so needy.

What does His babygirl do in this situation?

There are not enough rules, not enough instructions to fill her time.

A temptation to 'slut around'.

The delicious little whore is raising her head again.

Wiggling her arse.

Arrgh! come home Daddy! 

good girl whore

just some thoughts... an an excuse to show my favourite picture!

I am on the stepper at the gym and this is where I have time to do some thinking.

My mind of course turns to being a whore, a slut. Two of my most favoured words. I began to think about how much of a whore I could possibly be if whoring to only one man.

The free association of thoughts as beads of sweat slid down between my breasts. A whore is paid for service. A whore gives herself to many men, or women for recompense. While I don't pretend to understand the inner world of the whore belonging to that wonderful age old profession, I did start to think about the contradiction of the woman submissive, slave, pet, bitch (insert your favoured word here). Often, I have noted, one of the rules that submissive women (girls some like to say) are given, is that they cannot liaise with other men, Dominant men, in a sexually explicit way (though I recognise that some may be shared by there Dominant partner with others). A woman cannot have two Master's. On the surface, to me, this seems a fabulously vanilla concept and a contradiction to the purest meaning of the word whore.

We could consider then that a submissive woman declaring she is a whore to her Sir, Master, Daddy (insert favoured term here), or being declared a whore by him, is in no way a whore, but simply living the fantasy of being a whore.

For me Whoring isn't embodied in the act of submission or tantalising kinky sex acts. Whoring is borne in how a woman makes herself available to many (not that there's anything wrong with that!). Or is a whore the opposite in sexual behaviour from what is considered acceptable behaviour of a 'good girl'? The dichotomy of the whore - good girl is in me. I am polarised, and whoring is the fantasy that keeps the good girl in me alive. I strive to hear those words "good girl". They make me warm and fuzzy and tingly. How do I achieve this status? By being a whore, a slut, a bitch. By being his little bitch, I am his "good girl". 

LOL go figure!

drifting & connecting

A newer connection is taking up some time.

My husband / partner  / lover have drifted lately. Drifting in the opposite direction. Life has become hectic. Work and family commitments draining both of us. I have allowed my head to be turned to another's attention. A connection only online but this is probably the most dangerous liaison I have ever allowed into my little world. A man in the same country, albeit another city. A man who can reach me.

I have been careful to not make connections that have any chance of becoming a threat to my 'real' offline relationship. While I wait for my love to discover me, to come on this journey with me, to lead me, the need in me grows exponentially. The ache becomes a need. Time ticks slowly when that need is not fed. So in weakness I allow another to take me on a journey and what an interesting journey it is! There's those 'hell's bell's' moments...what the *&%#@ am I getting myself into? But its like a car crash where I can't look away.  

Daddy's back!

I have noticed I write in the third person when I tackle something personal and emotional..Its easier to pretend its somebody else or some fiction.. maybe one day I should write a book in the third person...a memoire of she...


The first steps with Daddy..he brought her back to him at her invitation. Weeks before he had set her free, adrift. Logically she saw it was the right thing to do. She didn't argue she was passive in his decision, but she screamed inside. She wanted them both. One shouldn't interfere with the other, but it was hard to balance. 

The arrangement was good for them both. They lived a great distance away from one another and they were both committed to another. She had her vanilla life to continue, but the ache in her had been building for some time. Part of her had wished she had been aware if this life, this need in her before she had readily committed to her vanilla existence. Now, having made the discovery, she felt that living it online was only half an existence. A shadow of what she really needed. It was the best she could manage though.

She felt the invisible string connecting her to her husband, her vanilla husband and their life. She barely understood why she maintained this commitment. He had not proven worthy. He had disrespected her and abused her trust. But as she grew older the idealism of her youth gave way to a more mature and realistic vision of the world around her.

She spent long hours wondering why she didn't have an affair, why she didn't follow her heart, her desire, her need to bend and bow to another's will, to give herself completely but remain uncrushed by it. But she knew that what she needed was not just about sex. She happily engaged in all manner of sexual appetite. She bent to her partners will, they visited her kink together, they played, they discovered the excitement of his domination over her sexually, she submitted in that way. But it was more than just sex she needed and that's where Daddy came in.

Daddy and she had built their arrangement only briefly, and she needed to move incrementally. It was all so new. Her vanilla self had the heart of a lioness. She had faced many things and survived. She survived despite her husband, not because of him, but she continued to love him and stand with him..she never knew why, but she did. Her other self though had the heart of a church mouse! The other she was not so brave and many times her courage wavered. Daddy had let her go, released her. She was never really sure why, perhaps a range of reasons, but she missed him, even though he had challenged her to the point of anger and then tears.

Now Daddy was back and she resolved to be brave. She trembled inside though. He had promised he'd try to move more slowly, to gauge her better. But he asked that she help him, to tell him when she needed more. Over time she guessed this would change, when she knew him better, when her submission deepened to the point she hoped it would. She thought about the nature of this otherness with Daddy and hoped she could be brave this time, brave enough not to let Daddy down. Then she crawled gently back to her vanilla life and into bed with her husband, so as not to wake him, she knew he would fuck her in the morning, but not now, not when she wanted to just think about Daddy. 

A letter to Daddy

                                                                                      

Last night I did as you asked.

I washed and prepared myself in the bathroom. I performed my ritual with creams and oils and put on the bra and panties you gave me permission to buy. This seemed like the right thing to do. He liked the new set very much and as a celebration purchase of my submission to you, it seemed like poetry to me. As I prepared myself my thoughts were with you, of you. Thinking not about him, but about you. I wondered at your intention, why you instructed me to approach my husband like this?

I walked to the lounge room where he was sitting on the computer. The flogger in my right hand hung at my side i could feel lightly brushing against my leg. I walked to him, his eyes all over me and then he saw the flogger. I knelt, handed it to him with both hands and arms out stretched. He took it from me the corners of his mouth turned up. I was excited, nervous, wet, this was a relatively new path. I lay my head on his lap as he pushed the computer away.


"my body is yours to use."


He pulled me up to my knees and held my face between his hands. He spoke quietly, almost inaudibly, "will you submit to me, will you do anything I want with you, without question, without resistance." I was surprised at this, was he playing? He's not Dom...is he?! I nodded in response.


I was thinking of you, thinking that I was doing this for you. I was getting a little confused at the same time. Confused at how easily you could be there with me, about to fuck my husband.


He pulled me up and lay me across his lap on my stomach. His hand circling my bottom, then...a sharp but quite gentle *smack*. It felt very good, tingling between my thighs, almost sensual. I was a little embarrassed by the fact that the lights were on and the windows wide open. We have a lot of windows in the lounge room and all very visible from the road outside. The strikes got harder interspersed with the sweet feeling of his light feathery touch circling on my bottom. mmmm, delicious. As his slaps got harder they eventually made me squeal. It hurt and I struggled to get away, to make it stop.


He pushed me back to my knees and pushed my mouth onto his cock, hard and oozing. Again the lights! the street! He held my hair and pushed me onto his cock so deeply I gagged. I think he likes to make me gag. He pulled me off, a quick breath, then forced me back down. I love cock, love the feeling of it in my mouth and deep in my throat, love the heat and I love the way a man melts under the power of a wet, hot eager mouth, a willing throat. He undid my bra and slipped it off. He found my hard nipple, pinched and twisted. He told me to rub my cunt on his leg "like a dog". The pleasure of this feeling on my clit was equally balanced by the humiliation of humping his leg like a dog.


He was getting more forceful, more excited. He pulled me back by my hair, this always hurts and I was beginning to feel a little wounded,  but nothing to how I would feel later. His other hand went to my throat and releasing my hair he looked me straight in the eyes and slapped my face. The shock in me was undeniable, my eyes were wide, he smiled a little then *slap*, I felt it in my bones, his large heavy hand on my face. Again and again. I winced every time his hand landed on my cheek, I felt my eyes begin to well up.


Picking up the flogger he wrapped it around my neck and pulled me to my feet. He didn't talk to me other than to issue the occasional instruction, "stand up" etc.


He pulled me by my neck to the hallway and then seemed to change his mind, "get on your hands and knees, crawl to the bedroom". The flogger still around my neck, he led me/pulled me to the bedroom. I waited on my hands and knees, I cast my gaze down and saw my breasts hanging. I was immediately caught by a sense of humiliation like I had never felt before and I didn't like! Tears welled in my eyes again and at about the same time I felt the flogger come down hard on my arse. Catching me off guard, I squealed.


He continued to flog my arse for a time, then stood in front of me, pulling me to my knees and onto his cock by my hair. He continued to flog my arse as I sucked him. Every time the flogger came down on my arse I winced and stopped sucking and I discovered that made it come down even faster and harder. Finally, he grabbed my hair and pushing my head down, instructed "lay down". I lay on the floor face down. He seemed to be in possession of an added energy. Everything was speeding up. I was beginning to feel fear, anxiety, and I was certainly feeling humiliated and a little unloved. I reminded myself why I was doing this. I wasn't doing it for him, because he had said the words "submit to me". I was doing it for you, for Daddy.


Now, as I write this, that makes me feel more comforted...last night, it did not, I was a little fearful of him, of his inexperience, but only a little. I felt confident I could make it stop if I really needed to. I hoped I could.


Laying face down I was aware that there were tears on my face, that I was crying...I didn't like this anymore, but I was willing to lay there, to wait while he moved around the room doing something, gathering something..."come here".


He sat on the edge of the bed, vibrator in his hand, I crawled to him, knelt between his legs. He pulled me to him and I began to lick his balls, suck them into my mouth one, two. I found his arsehole and licked (this is not my favourite things but I knew he liked it, I knew he liked me to play with his arse..). He handed me the vibrator, "push it in my arse". I did. "suck my cock"...I did..."you dirty little slut"..I sucked him until he came in my throat. My face was covered in his cum..it was in my hair, oozing out the corners of my mouth.


He flipped me around and began to finger fuck me, he had fingers and thumbs in each of my holes and one on my clit..he fucked me slowly and then hard, he brought me to the edge. His cum on my face and in my hair. He pushed another vibrator into my pussy, your pussy Daddy, wet and dripping and needing to cum, needing reward for my use. He twisted it round and pushed it against my rim...almost instantly I came and came hard. I thought I'd come hard and loudly in the past, but this was another ball game. Wave after wave, I think you must have heard me scream from there Daddy.


He picked me up afterwards and held me until I fell asleep covered in his cum, in my wetness.


I didn't know who this man was until then, until he held me. I didn't know him like this!..He has hit me before with the flogger, he has fucked me hard before, but until last night, I don't think he's ever really used me. I felt disregarded, little, objectified. I felt like shit. and I don't think I liked it...not from him.


I will have my white panties, the ones I bought without your approval clean and ready as you wished. Thank you for your email..I woke this morning aware I didn't have any instruction for today. So I logged on. I am getting a feeling that you won't forget me.


I am your girl x