My slut day

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Daily homework

For the past few days, Daddy's had the day off, while I've had to work. He texted me one morning with an order, which is now standing. Every day, twice a day, I'm to excuse myself to the bathroom. While I'm there, I'm to pinch my nipples for twenty seconds and then finger myself until I want to orgasm. When I'm at the cusp of orgasm, I have to stop, lick my fingers clean, and go back to work.
This is delicious homework and just thinking of doing it tomorrow for him turns me on.

Well, that was weird.

Monday night, Daddy and I went to bed, as usual. I was wearing silky nightgown (though usually I sleep nude, I had been wearing it around the apartment so I didn't take off). Daddy told me to take it off and then to undress him. Then he had me go down on him. This is normal. He was talking about what it will be like when we finally find my sister, which is also normal. Occasionally, he interrupted me and pulled me up to snuggle for a bit, and then had me get back to work. That was kind of weird, but whatever. Then he decided to use my pussy, which was actually the second time that day, and that's unusual, but very, very welcome.¹ He had me on top, which I actually highly dislike, because it's hard work and I can't get as deep as I like when I'm on top, and I'm afraid that I'll hurt my partner because I like a lot of force, but I don't want to slam down that hard on the poor guy. Anyway, the rule is that I'm not allowed to orgasm without permission, and lately Daddy has taken to ordering to me to orgasm, even when I don't ask. Sometimes though, he orders me to cum and I'm not actually close. While I was on top of him, he ordered me to cum. I did the first time, but I was starting to lose my breath from the movement, and I really, really just wanted him to cum so we could go to sleep. He ordered me to cum again, and I didn't, so he repeated his order. And I just started sobbing. I couldn't cum. Daddy held me and comforted me and I was all right again. He had me roll over on my back so he could keep fucking me. This felt really good, but then, in what I can only assume was an attempt to comfort me, he was whispering in my ear "I love you [my real name]." Normally he calls me "pet" or "princess" or "Evie", but he rarely uses my real name, unless he's trying to make sure that I know he really means what he says. And for whatever reason, hearing him say my name over and over was really distracting/upsetting to me. I asked him to stop, and he said "but it's such a beautiful name for my beautiful girl." He was being incredibly kind, telling me how beautiful and wonderful and special I am, but I really just wanted him to stop saying my name. It was breaking me out of subspace, or something. I've tried to figure out if maybe it's because I associate my full name with being in trouble or something, but it's how I introduce myself to everyone, so I don't think that's it. Maybe it's because I very rarely use names in conversation, and I often find it jarring when someone uses my name in conversation, unless they're trying to get my attention or talking about me.
Eventually he decided to use my ass, and did that, but I was so tired partly just from being tired and partly from all the orgasms he'd ordered me to have, and it hurt, and he wasn't reaching orgasm, so he finally stopped. That made me feel bad, since I wanted to make him cum, but I know that sometimes it's just not possible for men, the same way it's sometimes not possible for women.
After, I had a really hard time falling asleep, I wound up taking a bath to relax. I think part of not being able to sleep was that I'd basically slept all day, since I had the day off.
I had Tuesday off too, so I wound up trying to figure out what the hell happened. I still have no idea.


1. I'm not on birth control for several reasons- I didn't like being on it, I have other medical issues that contra-indicate the use of hormonal birth control, and I have no insurance (though I could get it cheaply from Planned Parenthood). Thus, we have to use condoms, and that's slightly inconvenient, so Daddy prefers to use me in other ways.

Last night, Daddy said to me, "I gave you a collar, but every day you choose to put it on is a gift to me."

Today's horoscope

Today, my horoscope (Cancer) said:
Strive to be less self-indulgent and more service-oriented. What you do for others will come back to you in no time.

I thought that was a great horoscope for a submissive.

joy in service

When other submissives start going all gushy about how much they love to serve, sometimes I think it seems awfully cheesy, and I wonder if it's true. But now I'm really starting to feel it. I've always been the maternal type, the kind of person who loves to take care of others, though I'm not always good at it. And I never really realized how much of my submissive nature was rooted not only in sexual submission, but in service. I never realized how much peace and happiness I get doing things for the people I love
Daddy works very hard, long hours, and sometimes we don't have much time to play. But I feel such happiness when he says "pet, will you make me a drink please?" and I stop whatever I'm doing to go make him a drink, or fetch his pajamas or run to the store to pick up something we need (or get down on my knees and suck his cock). It helps me feel useful and like I'm doing something to please him, even if he doesn't have the energy to use me. And I also get to take care of him, make his life more pleasant, take away a worry, and that's how I show my love for him. By making him a drink (or doing the laundry, or whatever task), I'm fulfilling my need to take care of someone, and it's wonderful that he lets me do that.

I think I just spent at least 45 minutes giving Daddy head. My jaw is sore, but it was worth it.

Fond Memories

Sometimes people think that being a submissive means that you're a doormat, that your partner wants you for your body, not for your mind. Daddy says that it's more meaningful to have a submissive with a brain and a will, because then she's choosing to give up something for you. One of my favorite memories is of a time that I played with the Dom I played with before I met Daddy. I had just been fucked, and was still wearing my heels, stockings and garter belt. I also had cuffs at my wrists and ankles, which had ropes tied to them (but the ropes weren't tied to anything). He's a lawyer (I love lawyers), and we ended up having a discussion about constitutional law. There's something very surreal in talking about the right to privacy after having engaged in kinky sex with someone old enough to be your father.

Another entertaining moment: Daddy and I had ordered food. I answered the door (I think because I'd put it on my debit card), and forgot that I was wearing my collar. I now have a nice silver day collar that's really just a pretty necklace, but when I'm home, I wear my leather collar which has a ring on it (as seen in the picture). The delivery guy had kind of a funny look on his face, he was amused, but I'm used to delivery guys smiling at me, since I always smile at them. It wasn't until we were sitting down to eat that I realized I'd opened the door and signed the receipt with a collar around my neck.

A first post

My first post on blogger, but not my first blog post. I have a blog at Livejournal (well, two, actually, but only one under this name). I like it over there because of the communities and the way they do commenting. But I'm thinking about making some more explicit posts, and so I wanted to snatch up a new blog space to do that, since my blog there tends to be more about my life, and my relationship and my various moments of complete insanity and insecurity. Maybe Daddy will even give me homework to post up here for you all to enjoy.