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Recent Blog Entries
What is a "Daddy Dom"? Thanks mostly to UB, I got it in my head that a Daddy Dom must be a loving Daddy for a baby or little girl, but now I find that all it takes to be a Daddy Dom is to believe in giving your sub playmate some aftercare. Apparently the non-Daddy Doms don't do aftercare. So, naturally, all these women flodding into BDSM are saying they want Daddy Doms.
I was having a panic attack and feeling sorry for myself last night. I couldn't sleep, so I logged on to a Kik group that I belong to and chatted with the folks there. We have a rule that if you say "lol" you have to post a selfie. I'm always very careful not to do so because I feel that people's expectation of what I look like will be crushed when they see the real me.
I was tired though and made the mistake. So, I did a selfie. And I waited....
"You're so pretty, Laura!" they said. And I cried.
I've never been pretty before and it felt amazing!!!!
When I first came to Guardian Island, I didn't know what a Blog was and I had never even considered posting my intimate thoughts and ideas to an anonymous public. But once I did so, it became addictive. I wrote incessently. I wrote things that thrilled me and scared me (was I really feeling this stuff and why on earth was I telling it to the world)?
My underwear drawer is full of things other than undies . . .
things like a depressingly solid blue plastic cutting board that my
Daddy/husband decorated one side of for me.
And the remains of a surgically dissected, thick leather belt that he cut down to “just the right size" for reddening my poor vulnerable rear.
I have never safe worded out in 16 years. I've never even come close to feeling as if I needed to.
But I came as close as I ever have so not long ago.
Granted, I absolutely deserved the severity of the punishment I was given. And it was delivered with one of the most severe implements we have – a long, wide, leather strap that has been the bane of my existence since Daddy got it.
I’ve experienced it before, but never as badly as this.
I was recently diagnosed with fibromyalgia, and I was put on a medication that has a terrible, terrible side effect.
I can’t cum.
For the second time, Daddy did everything he could think of – things that would normally have me literally screaming the house down, panting, shaking, crying . . .
Nothing. Nada. Zippo.
No, that’s not right.
I felt aroused. I did.
I just couldn’t get *there*.