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Daddy Energy

EDITORIAL FEATURES

Daddy EnergyIt's been a while since I've been fucked.  I can feel my body start to twitch and want when Daddy is around.  When he speaks to me in that loving heavy tone and says, "I loove you babygirl."  And part of me wants to just climb on him and fuck him until I am satisfied.

But then in between the sex, there is this magical place he takes me that in some ways is better than sex.  It's this mindfuck that transcends me to a place that lasts longer than an orgasm.  It feels just as good as the thrusting of his cock inside the walls of my cunt, and makes my clit sore, my nipples ache and comes as close to blowing off the top of my head as any orgasm does.

The mindfuck in a scene.  Subspace.  Those moments where I get lost somewhere midbrain.  We were doing a fire scene and the energy between us was heavy.  I could feel his eyes on my back.  I could feel his energy coming off of his body and settling down on my skin, sinking into my pores and flowing in my blood.  The fire wands brushed over my body, and then his hands wiping the fire away.  The needles going into my skin.  The cups pulling the blood from my skin.  More fire, more energy.

Energy play is something that I am finding my body addicted to.  I usually am only sensitive to negative energy.  It infects me and changes my mood.  It has just been recently, since I was ‘hit' with clean energy in a co-topping scene that I crave it.  So when Daddy and I get deep into our scenes, I find myself so infused with his energy that I go somewhere else.  Subspace maybe- but maybe somewhere else.  Somewhere that I drift of so far that I don't ever remember it right away.

The moments happen in flashes of my memory- but when Daddy takes out the knife, if I have not drifted away- that's about the time that I do.  It's not a defense mechanism, but just the way I process that fear.  I have fantasies of being cut, of bleeding.  Of feeling the sharp metal and the heat of my blood rushing out of my body.  I want this, and I'm terrified of it.  So I allow my body to go into this space where it can happen.  I don't have to be afraid and I can only want.  When he drags the blade over my skin, I can imagine the blood.  I can FEEL the slicing.  My skin feels what I fantasize about, even if there is not a drop of blood.

So when he pulled the knife and placed it on my throat, and then questioned me about what I had done.  I froze.  "How fucking dare you!"

"what daddy?"  my voice trembled- what did I do?

This is the extend to what I remember clearly and is being told by pieces of my memory and what he told me happened next.  What he told me was that he knew what I had done.  That he gave me special Daddy time and afterwards I went out and fucked one of my friends.

"No Daddy!  I didn't!"

He didn't believe me.  He threatened to cut me open.  He threatened to take me out into the woods and leave me there to die.

"No I swear Daddy, they are lying!  I didn't I swear!"

I started to cry.  I remember crying, "I would NEVER Daddy."

He accused me of lying now.  He accused me of being such a fithly little whore that I could not keep my legs closed.  I continued to cry, and plead with him.  "No Daddy I swear.  I swear Daddy I didn't do that.  I wouldn't do that Daddy.  Please believe me."

I remember being scared.  I remember feeling afraid that he was going to leave me.  I remember that feeling of frustrating and anger that someone would tell such lies.  No Daddy.  I didn't Daddy.  He told me that he could smell my cunt, and that he could feel so much energy coming from me that it made him dizzy.  I remember the look in his eyes.  That look for anger, rage, and disgust.  That tone in his voice that is reserved for girls who are bad.  That tone that he almost never uses with me.  I was shaking, I was terrified.  I was completely outside of myself and after he grabbed my by my hair and put the knife so close to my face that I could smell it, that I completely disappeared.

He tells me that even while he was cleaning up the blood on my back, from the blood cupping I was still crying.  I was still saying that I didn't do anything.  Who said that Daddy?  I promise I didn't let anyone touch me Daddy.  You believe me, right Daddy?  Do you believe me? My little, who almost never present in a scene, had taken front and center position in my brain and was terrified that Daddy was going to leave me.  I had so checked out- that even my aftercare was given to the little girl who ate FunDip candy and was wrapped in a fluffy blanket.

I'm not sure when I checked back into my brain- but much of that part of the scene is blurry to me.  It's like being really drunk and the night is remembered in flashes and other peoples telling of the night.  What I did feel when I checked back in, was this feeling of fullness in my chest.  This feeling of acceptance in my heart.  My head was a spinning and my body was so charged that I was tingly.

Since that night I have been balancing efforts to be little, and to be a grown up.  Littles play is heavy for me.  I love getting lost there.  I love how safe and loved I feel.  I also love that naughty feeling of exploration and doing the things I'm not supposed to do.  It's special when Daddy lets me play like this in a scene.  It transcends past sex and foes farther into my brain than I can access on my own.

The energy.  I crave it.

Republished with permission from Bad Bad Girl. Want to see your true tale of lust on Fleshbot? Contact us. Photo by John B. Root.


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