I have so much to say I don't know where to start. It's almost like I'm so far behind there's no way to catch up. It doesn't help knowing there's so much I need to do around the house...can't seem to catch up anywhere.
I've wanted to write about Daddy (the name, not the person) for some time now, to reevaluate how I feel about the whole thing. I don't know though, my brain kinda shuts downs when I start to think about it.
He has been more firm about things lately. It's nice, in an uncomfortable way. Like the other night, I forgot my plug when it was time to talk. He made it clear that it is not advisable to forget such things. The crop helped him out with that...when it met the inside of my thighs and pussy. Then the anal hook came out, and went in.
That's something else I want to write about, the anal hook. It's quite lovely, despite how intimidating it looks.
He tied me up two nights in a row--definitely worth writing about, considering it had been over a month. Good times, good times.
Talking isn't easier, but it's...different. I was feeling vulnerable and sensitive after all the playing, and he said something that got to me. It wasn't meant to be how I took it, I knew that when he said it, yet it still got to me. It was kinda like the playing took off a protective covering, leaving a raw feeling, then he touched me. Do you ever feel like you could have a meltdown because he/she said hello the wrong way? I started to crawl inside myself. I knew I needed to tell him, but things come out of my mouth sounding different then they do in my head and, I don't know, I guess I hated to admit it got to me--like I wasn't strong enough to handle it. We were in bed when I told him, but I told him, that very same day! And that, my friends, is something amazing. In fact, I wouldn't be surprised to find a flying pig or two.
I know I have some comments to reply to, no time for that right now, but I will get to them. Promise.