Daddy’s Little Girl

Dang! Quiet isn’t the half of it, is it? It’s been deadly silent here. Are you still there? I’m here. Nested. Blossoming.

My apologies. Been living a life.  I’ve thought of you. Often, really. Simply haven’t had the space in my head to figure out what to write. Well, to be honest and fair….and in the interest of full self-disclosure…haven’t wanted to share the raunchy fantasies I’ve been having [and moving them from fantasy to reality]. I’ve been selfish. Wanting to keep them to myself and relish them; turning them over and over in my head long after I’ve showered and dressed.

My new home feels more like home than any other place I’ve lived in many years. I’d say 17 of them. It feels good here. Yes, home. I’m doing all the things I’m to do to make these four walls and this community my home.

Daddy has been magnificent, not surprisingly. He is not perfect, nor am I. I am protective of what we share together. Yet I want to recount the nasty things my Daddy does to me… I am learning that while I am a sweet, loving, and precocious girl, I am also a nasty, dirty, raunchy, trashy girl. Daddy has done to me things I’ve never thought would turn me on. Things I never considered or imagined at all. Things that would prompt me to crinkle my nose from the very thought. And then he does them to me and my pussy gushes with heat and wetness… as it warms now thinking of it as I type and nervously glance at the clock knowing I don’t have time to pleasure myself this morning but need to get my bum into the shower.

Daddy has also shared with me his fantasies. Some involve me as his loving daughter. Others require me to assume a different role. A role I’d not thought about since I was a teenager. A role I played out often with my first boyfriend in the afternoon light of his bedroom. A role that makes my nipples ache with longing. It turns me on immensely. I find myself wanting to play this out with Daddy quite often.

The balance between our fantasies naturally finds itself. The pendulum swings in one direction and then the other to both of our individual and shared satisfactions. When my need was greatest to be in Daddy’s loving and protective embrace with all its attendant abuse of my trust of him, he generously gave of himself to me. When his need arises, I am eager to fulfill his urges to abuse me from a very different perspective. The trust between us makes this possible. There are times when I need him to be my Daddy and he needs me to be something else to him. There is no negotiation between us; our union is not that formal. Perhaps there will come a time when we will need to negotiate this part of our life together - when our needs will be in conflict - and I am confident we will find our way should it be necessary. Yes, he continues to abuse me as his daughter. And I gladly and very willingly assume the role he desires of me. It is my innate desire to please. From my foundation of submissiveness springs my enthusiasm to don the persona that moves him to ecstasy.

Life is good. I am growing and changing all the time. At the core of me is that ever-trusting, loving, very sexually curious, pleasing, hedonist-of-a-girl. She is increasingly encased in a responsible, mature, honest, trusting, loving woman who lives in reality.

Life is also hard at times. I miss my Grandmother very much. I miss my family. My friends. I miss the familiar, though as my new surroundings become more so I feel the absence less and less. My new life is becoming familiar, yes. I have secured a temporary job. The money is pitiful. The hours start early and run long. The work itself is neither challenging or particularly interesting. The gig is scheduled to last until Thanksgiving. In this economy, I am grateful to have found work at all. This job has driven home to me that I no longer take my self-worth and self-esteem from the “what” of what I do for a living. I define myself differently; I nurture those traits through my life with myself and my interactions with others. Allowing the girl in me to come out from behind the curtain added a new layer of self-esteem.

I will do my best to write more often. I realize I’ve been quiet for a *very* long time. I struggle to find the balance between living my fantasies and sharing them with you given my inclination to shield my most vulnerable self - this girl in me and her relationship with her fabulous Daddy - in its fragile, newly-budded state.

I will find strength in my own vulnerability.

OK, so… it seems my 23rd anniversary came and went and I somehow fell off the edge of my precarious-of-late emotional precipice.

I guess I could have expected this right about now given all that’s been churning and bubbling up this past year. I just spent the last hour in prayer and meditation after realizing I’d let my ’stuff’ go sideways on an unsuspecting bystander. *sigh* I’ve done a 10th Step with my recent behaviour so shan’t spend the rest of the day beating myself to a pulp over it. I’ll pick myself up, dust myself off, and venture forth gingerly so as not to do it again.

Geez, I’m really fragile right now. With all that’s been on my plate this past year and this summer, I think I’ve hit the wall with how much more I can handle. Sure, sure, sure… G-d doesn’t give us more than we can handle. Whatever. I’m telling you I’ve had enough. More than enough. And I’m just at the wee tail end of this leg of my current journey. In fact, in all likelihood I’ll physically be through it before Friday of this week. This last few inches will set the foundation for the next chapter of this wild adventure.

I feel like I’m living a split life… on one hand I have this magnificent Daddy with great promise in our union and an easy time of it together and on the other hand I have this newly hatched chick of a self with the attendant wobbly legs and bottomless-pit-of-a-belly-hunger.

It seems the stress has manifested in changes to my physical self. Nothing dangerous or harmful. Changes nonetheless. Change I wasn’t prepared for quite yet. Change I am not thrilled about either. But, there it is and what’s done is done. If nothing else, it’s prompted me to look at how I manage stress - or, rather honestly, don’t manage it well at all.

If you know of anyone hiring a girl like me, please send them my way. I could use a revenue stream right about now. Unemployment in my new home state is 3rd in the nation, or higher.

Have you missed me? I’ve missed you. So much going on and no real ability to focus enough to write. I’ve just been living the dream, you might say. Some dream, I say. In some ways, more like a waking nightmare with periods of pleasant & warm fuzzy dreaminess.

This bit’s not sexy nor erotic but is part of my journey…

This move has been stressful and disorienting. Ruffled with sadness and grief for what was has been compounded by the loss of my beloved Grandmother 10 days ago. There’s been a lot going on, still. Ready for it to stop. The drama of my life of late is really annoying.

We were preparing for my Grandmother’s 100th birthday just on the horizon. While I will miss my Grandmother dearly - and do - it was time for her. She was a vibrant woman who loved life so very much. These past 7 months her health was slowly deteriorating such that her life as she knew & loved it - not her “heartbeat” life but her “day-to-day” life that roots us within ourselves and connects us with others - was slipping away inch by inch. Ever independent, she was now receiving supplemental care to manage everyday self-care. She hated it. She was an angel in my life and is now the brightest angel in heaven looking out for my well-being. In that way, I am very fortunate.

I have moved 3 times in 6 weeks. Getting settled is not something that has taken place yet. To live in limbo for months with the promise of security and stability within my grasp only to choose better for myself instead of accepting the unacceptable, I am now officially worn out and mentally exhausted. Not sexy, is it?

Fortunately, it seems my days of seeking a home for myself are about to come to an end. The light at the end of this tunnel is the sun shining brightly, waiting for my face to emerge from the darkness to be illuminated and bathed in heat. I am moving - yet again - in a few days. Relocating within the state but quite a distance from here. After a temporary landing, I will finally be securing a place of my own. My own four walls in which to nest and heal.

It turns out I have another angel in my life. One I did not see as such. One who has emerged very unexpectedly. One who, quite to my surprise, has plans for me and him beyond our existing relationship.

Yes, I have a very thick, hardbound Book of Rules of how life is supposed to ‘go’, in which order life events occur, and it even identifies how much time is required between *this* and *that*. Frankly, that Book of Rules has never served me well. If only life conformed to our expectations, my Book would have been the perfectly handy guide from which to make decisions. Of course, life doesn’t so my Book is useless. Also of course, I’ve continued to try to shove and jam my life’s choices into the Rules and Requirements for Living as articulated in this mental Book of mine. Yah, so…. the Book is a waste of mental paper which serves only to confuse me and contort me into emotional knots. The only thing to do is burn that book. Which leads me to where I am in this moment…

This mortal angel is flying into town in a few days. We will load my meager belongings and drive to where he lives. I will stay with him while we find me a place of my own. He recognizes the critical need for one in my situation and with my circumstances to find myself, find my purpose and heal myself. He supports it, too. I may relocate to the same town where he lives; I may relocate to a nearby one. Much of the details of this leg of my journey are unknown to me as of yet. Some he knows and we will discuss when we are together. Some details neither of us knows and can only be known by talking together, getting more information and investigating. He is undaunted by all of this, unlike me.

I am being carried and led by something or someone in the ether who wants goodness, safety, happiness, joy, serenity and peace to grace my life. I am allowing myself to be carried. I am following this leader. I trust magnificence awaits me on the other side… the only way out is through, this I know.

Courage is feeling the fear and doing it anyway.

So, I moved with plans of living with that lying “Daddy”. Of course, once the truth came to the light of day, I changed my plans and my living situation.

Turns out I left a few things behind. Arranged to have them shipped to me and offered to reimburse the shipping costs.

Yesterday afternoon, he shows up at my new home to deliver them in person. What? Why not ship them? O, it’s on your way to somewhere else? Ummm…. may be but why??? None of the items was that important to warrant personal delivery.

Thank goodness I wasn’t home. Even better, I didn’t find out about it until several hours later.

As if personal delivery isn’t odd enough, he apparently loitered in front of the house for 20 minutes or so after he handed off the parcel. What????

I told him to leave me alone. I told him I wanted nothing to do with him. I told him it was over and we were through since he is a liar and manipulator.

It startles me that he would act this way. Startles me that he played it off like it was no big deal. Freaks me out, really. I hope he doesn’t show up again.

It’s been suggested to me to go to the police and see what to do or can be done. I have promised to do just that as soon as I get back home [am away at the moment, thank heavens!].

I hope I don’t have to move again… that would be difficult on many fronts.

So, I’m here. I’ve arrived safely a few weeks ago. Has been a whirlwind not least because I had to let that man I called “Daddy” go. What a misnomer for me to call him as such. That man was no Daddy of mine. Sadly, I didn’t *get* it until it was really too late in the game to change my plans.

I am safe and sound in a new living situation. Not a permanent one but available to me for as long as I need it. Affordable. Safe. Not ideal in some ways but more than ideal in others. Will take a while to settle into my new home for logistical reasons but it’s only another month until everything shakes out. Not easy to manage this limbo but will do it simply because I have no choice.

The details of what happened with that man don’t matter. Suffice to say, he was not a Daddy for me at all. He was, it turns out, a catalyst for other things in my life. Things/circumstances which will eventually feel very positive. Right now, those circumstances feel very sad and are pitifully painful. I am a weepy girl of late. Not for that man. He is not worth my tears. But for all the promise that I left behind in my marriage.

I cannot imagine a time when I will not love my husband deeply. Sadly, he would not compromise for me and I could no longer do as he wished despite the collar around my wrist. Mourning the loss of him and our bond will not come easily nor end quickly. I thought I would spend the remainder of my days with him. I imagined we would be together forever plus one day. I believed that whatever came our way would be challenges we would meet and conquer together.

The other night, I heard someone say… the one who holds the power in a D/s union is the one who is willing to walk away first.

I didn’t realize that one was me.

As I was driving to take care of some errands this afternoon, a really sappy song came on the Sirius radio. Tears sprung to my eyes and splashed down my cheeks. I sat through a green light. I pulled into a side street and sobbed for a while. Just when I thought I had pulled myself together another round of bawling crashed on the shores of my heart. I knew it was time to slowly and carefully drive home and crawl under the covers. Luckily, no one else was home when I arrived so I had a couple of hours to cry without feeling the need to bury my face in a pillow to muffle my pain or my sadness.

I want to be angry with him. I hope I can find my anger eventually. When I find it, I fear it will overpower me. If my anger is remotely as big as my sadness, surely I will struggle to manage it.

Please don’t let me be a bitter woman out of all of this mess. Please let me retain my innocent delight in the wonders of the world and of the people around me. Please let me still be this girl who is so eager to give of herself [ok, with a bit more care perhaps?]. Please let me remain this girl who longs to please and be pleasing. Please let me not construct walls around my heart or allow ice to form there. Please let me trust again, completely and without reservation. Please let me know great and true love. Please let me allow myself to be vulnerable to another who is worthy of and will honor the tenderness of me and will be wise enough not to tread on my soft heart.

Right now, I’m covered in sadness. And guilt. Guilt that somehow I failed to communicate clearly what I needed - for if I had, he’d have listened, right? Guilt that I ever initially consented to do as he wished, ignoring my fear & reservation - for if I had not consented, we’d not have ended up here, right? Guilt that I couldn’t manage to continue to ‘go along’ despite the harm I felt it was doing to me - for if I had, I’d not have needed to do the right thing for myself by leaving him, right? Right? There must’ve been more I could’ve done to set my marriage back onto the right track.

And as I hear those words echo in my head as though the sides of my skull are canyon walls, I know that alone I cannot make a union of two flourish without the full participation of my other.

There must’ve been something[s] he could have done to set our marriage back on track. When given any of the opportunities to do so, he did not. He sat mute or plainly acknowledged that he would not change nor compromise.

Somewhere, underneath all this sadness, guilt, confusion, trepidation, and heaven’s only knows what else… there sits a small, sweet & loving girl in the arms of a strong, smart, amazing woman both waiting for me to make my way through this process to find them on the other side.

No, I am not splitting apart into different personalities, Sybil. They’re all me. All integrated into a magnificent whole. One more magnificent as a result of this growth than before journeying this path.

I’ll get back to something sexy eventually. Keep coming back until then?

Will write as I have time and emotional space… xoxo