Get a rhythm, when you get the blues. - Johnny Cash
Today was an off day. One of those irritated, walking on egg shells, miscommunication, emotional exhaustion days.
We were at dinner and I said, “Daddy, can we meta tomorrow?”
“That is still the plan.”
“Then let’s have a good night. We will talk about irritation tomorrow.”
Earlier that night while walking around town, Daddy subtly and lightly pinched my bottom.
I came. I stopped and tried to hide it.
He smacked my ass a little hard.
He let me go and we were happy for a bit.
Until we decided to put it away and have an amazing dinner. And then we walked to our car.
Along the way Daddy pulled my hair.
We got to the car. Weak knees.
I came. I came. Fuck. I came.
I looked up and realized Daddy was filming.
I am sitting here now soaking wet, remembering the thoughts running through my head as I write this.
What a disgusting little girl I am. Fuck, pain, give me that beautiful, messy, groany, hot pain. Make me filthy. Make me remember your ownership, remind me why I’m yours.
And in that moment, when I looked up and he was filming, I knew I was his.
Yes, Please! Please Daddy, show everyone, fuck, let the world know how you make me feel, show them how you make me feel and what I give you in return. Show them how much you own me, and tell them who I am.
I held eye contact with him through the camera, showing him I was his.
No, no, why, Fuck. FUCK. Too much, God so fucking dirty…I came again. and again.
“The audio from this is going on your blog.”
And I came, but it was different. The moment had passed.
Daddy let me zone out while I came down, feeling like a carebear wrapped in cotton candy riding a subspacey unicorn.
Then we talked about the posting command. He said “It is actually up to you.”
“And you’re okay with our voices being out there?”
I explained to Daddy that orgasms are when I am my most vulnerable, and especially this, being outside, unable to control it, being his dirty, sexy, inhibited, slutty GOOD girl. Filthy good.
But as we rewatched it, part of me wanted to share. I was hot. And that made me feel good, because I spent so much of my life feeling ugly.
Free. Floaty. Fucking FANTASTIC.
At our core, he and I connect during sex. Orgasms. The sound of love in his voice.
Rewatching the look of gratitude and love in in my eyes…
Because I feel us again. That off feeling of disconnection was healed by his command.
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