Wednesday, November 26, 2008


I felt dishonest.

There was nothing intimate between A and I, although there had been a long while ago. We were close friends and had discussed things thoroughly, with us both deciding that there was no option for us to be anything more than friends. However, for some reason I still felt as though I was lying by omission having not told A about Daddy.

I explained this to Daddy and told him that I didn’t feel that I could really call him my Daddy honestly until I had talked to A about it all.

His answer was to tell me that he understood.

I really wasn’t expecting that.

Sunday, November 23, 2008


The discussion started normally enough with him asking for a report on my exam and what plans I had for the rest of the week.  But before I had noticed he was telling me that it would please him if I were to beg to be hurt the next time we met.  I was taken aback and more than a little nervous.  It wasn’t the first time that we would be meeting, but it was the first time since the dynamic of our friendship had begun to change and I still didn’t know where those changes left me.


We spoke about his belt and the way that he would like to use it.


“Does this mean that you would prefer for me to call you Daddy…?”


“Yes, I think that we have crossed to that, don’t you?”



And it felt like I could finally let go a breath that I didn’t realize I had been holding.


An MSN text box lit up on my screen and the conversation started.  We chatted about how my day had been.  I had visited the hospital for some blood tests, having recently been diagnosed with Type II Diabetes.  It is funny how something like that can change a situation that it has nothing to do with.

Best let me know what the results are” was all that he said, and that was the beginning of everything.  We both understood what that moment signaled.


“Good girl.”

And with those few words the power balance began to shift.  Finally.


I have met my Daddy.

T has known him for a long while and I have been watching on as they built and maintained a trusting and functional Dominant and submissive relationship.  Sometimes watching with jealousy, and sometimes with desire… but always watching and even worse than that, always wishing.

After visiting the new addition to our family at the end of October, T and I were on the train back home. 

“When he said that he would spank you, he wasn’t meaning in a casual way.”  She said, starting the conversation out of the blue.  I immediately knew who, what, where and when she was talking about. 

He had come to visit a couple of days earlier to gift T with Birthday Spankings, after which he jokingly called out “Next?!” as he returned to the lounge-room where I had sat listening to all of the delicious abuse that T was being subjected to.  I laughed and immediately regretted not dropping my pink cotton panties right then and there for him.

“I know that he didn’t mean a casual spanking… but…” But?  But what?  Isn’t this what I wanted?  Isn’t this what I had been waiting for, wishing that it would happen for me?

A long discussion followed about what I wanted, what he wanted, what T wanted and how we would all go about getting it.  It was decided that he and I needed to talk.  But who would initiate the conversation? 

As a slave I don’t think that it is within my place to initiate a conversation with a Dominant, especially a conversation that is being started with a particular motivation in mind.  I believe that to do this is to try and enforce my will onto that Dominant.  This is something that you can step around when you are looking at a conversation with a Dominant who you are not involved with, but when it is your Master (or someone who is showing some form of interest in you) then you need to be careful that you don’t set up the wrong pathways of behaviour from word go.  I couldn’t message him as ‘just a friend’ as T suggested, because to do so would be lying to myself.  So I waited.  I realized that I hadn’t emailed him to thank him for the day spent with us on T’s birthday, so I did that, and he emailed back.  But the email was a quick response from him that didn’t seem like it was inviting further conversation.  Once again, I waited.  I tried to remind myself that I was waiting on his pleasure, but it was hard to be patient.