Cutesypah's Corner

well, Mr. Right proposed, and I said, "yes." I knew the proposal was coming before Christmas, just didn't know when. the wedding will be in July.

We've done our sharing of loving, laughing, spanking, and lots of sex. We've been sick together, miserable together, happy together, and suffered depression, and Seasonal Affective Disorder (SAD) together. We had only 2 times when we were at odds, and it lasted only a few minutes. We talked through it all, and knew all the while that it was due to our fatigue, our SAD, and our aches & pains.

I've never been so =content, so peaceful, so happy. He truly is my Prince Charming - my Mr Right. And, now? It's forever.

I have seasonal affective disorder - SAD. so, in the autumn and winter, I feel horrible - depressed, moody, and lots of pain. and because I understand the Law of Attraction, and recognize how it works, when I'm down and sad, things around me do not go well, or break, or stop working. my laptop died. my sleep number bed broke. my daughter's laptop keyboard now has a broken "f" key because I was trying to remove a piece of paper stuck under it, and the plastic key cover came off and I can't get it back on.

and a judge completely ignored what I'd filed with the court (an emergency motion including physical abuse of a 12 year old by his 16 year old brother including bruises due to choking), and ordered the child back to his father. I was devastated. and to compound misery, my daughter also has SAD and has been yelling at me. plus my mom had a colonoscopy where they removed a polyp and we're waiting on results. oh yea, and Mr. Right's sick too.

could I be anymore of an "Eeyore" right now?

Air Force graduation was very good and very bad. my son graduated with honors which means you must rank in the top ten percent in all categories. But, you must also be nominated by your instructor for honors. I was SO proud, and my son looked wonderful. The bad part? My ex was there with his girlfriend who is a complete jerk, and my kids hate her, particularly my son. And my ex's parents, the ones who broke up my marriage, were there as well. I finally had a mini-hissy fit when they ran off and left me, my daughter, Mr Right & my mother wondering where they had gone, and where they were. plus, it went from 90 degrees to 60 degrees with rain, and more rain. The hotel had water standing in the hall ways. But, my son was happy to see us, and that was wonderful.

Neither of us have felt well at the same time for spanking since our return from the Air Force graduation. Although he and I both know we both could use the release, we agree that it wouldn't be prudent when I'm hurting, and he's not rested enough to monitor me closely.

The one very bright shining time in all this woe and misery? Mr. Right took me shopping for engagement and wedding rings this past weekend!!! The joke is that he's deciding how expensive I am before he decides to propose. LOL! Seriously, we had a great time looking at rings, as neither of us had ever done that before. And he was thrilled & surprised that I had no clue he was going to take me to look at rings. Although we were exhausted by the time we arrived home (it's 1.5 hours one way to a shopping mall), we had a great time learning more about our likes and how well we each work together to understand and respect our different opinions.

It's pouring rain outside. I want to be snuggled under the covers with Mr Right while the rain splatters on the concrete under the window. but, instead, I'm on the couch writing this instead of getting ready for work.

Mr Right and I had a wonderful trip to the beach, and are getting ready to leave again for my son's Air Force basic training graduation on Wednesday.

And, we continue to get closer, and the bond becomes stronger between us every day. we've talked of marriage, of planning a wedding, and combining our households. but, it's not official. no proposal, but I'm told it's coming. I'm so excited that I could run screaming down the street, "He loves me! He loves me!! He loves me!!!" and I don't run. Ever. *laughs*

To top it all off? To make things even better? We had anal sex on Saturday night. Our first time together. I love anal sex. It's an amazing, intimate experience that I've shared with two people before Mr Right. He had anal sex before, but it wasn't memorable, because his partners weren't really into it. So, together, for us, it was incredibly intimate, and built an even stronger level of trust between us.

Anal sex, for me, requires lots of lube, lots of deep breathing, and lots of focus on relaxation. I have always controlled the initial penetration because I didn't trust my partner not to hurt me. I've always sat on my partner's lap, facing him, knees bent, my thighs outside his, and simply lowered myself onto his cock. I couldn't manage that this time, so I let Mr Right penetrate me, first from behind, and then I was on my back, legs raised, as he pushed inside me. He was so very gentle, and tender, and was thrilled that I trusted him so completely.

When it was apparent he wasn't going to cum that way, and my body was aching from fatigue, we stopped, and just rested in each other's arms. The only time I ever felt closer to a human being was when my children were born, and again, as they were so tiny, and held onto me for love and comfort. It was one of those moments that I will carry with me for a lifetime - the realization that I belong, that I matter, and that someone has penetrated my internal walls, and he will not abuse the trust I have placed in him.

With Mr Right, there are no doubts, no nagging fears, no wishes that this or that were different. I don't remember feeling like this about anyone before. Yes, I've been head over heels in love, or so I thought. But even then, there were things about my love interest that I dreaded, or disliked, or thought I wanted to, or could, change.

This time, those fears, or nagging worries, or dislikes don't exist. And, trust me, I've looked for them, and poured through my thoughts, and impressions, and memories to find any red flags I've overlooked or ignored. There are none.

Life is good. I'm happy. I'm in love. I'm lovable. I'm loved. Life is good.

As you know, I have many blog friends. One in particular is Gray Lily over at Journey Into Submission. Recently, she posted about her Daddy Michael. Her heart-felt post inspired me to discuss my relationship with Daddy, and what a Daddy/girl relationship means to me. As I began drafting my post, I realized I would need to break it down into several posts. History of the girl, Part 1 is here. Part 2 is here.

When this girl became a mother, she vowed never to deny her children love and affection. She remembered her loneliness all too well, and promised her children they would never want for such things. Hugs were given out as freely as air, "I love you" spoken nearly as often as she drew breath. But, at her core, the little girl remained lonely, wondering if she would ever be loved, would ever be worthy of a daddy's love, and attention, or if she would ever see a man look at her, his eyes filled with pride, love, and admiration.

Her marriage was good for a while, but had its rough spots. As she began working on her bachelor's degree, her marriage began to flounder, and she had her first affair. It was with this lover the girl found out first about BDSM, and then D/s relationships. After a while, the affair died off, and the girl began to wander the Internet, in search of another connection. She began to learn more of D/s relationships, and desperately wanted her husband to become her Dominant.

As she read more and more about D/s, something inside of the girl blossomed. She felt ecstatic that there were others out there who felt and thought like her. She wanted someone to consider her worthy, and to whom she could look for guidance, acceptance and love. Her husband, love him though she did, was not dominant material. She was too head strong, and too intelligent for him. He thought being a Dominant was too much work. Plus, his mother continued to dominate him. The girl was forced to look elsewhere.

She met many Dominants, and wanna-bes. She only met a few, trying new things out, here and there. She eventually left her husband, as he would not, and could not provide that guidance, love and acceptance that she required. She was again, alone and lonely, searching for the one to make her feel lovable.

She began to hear about Daddy Doms, but turned away from the idea, as she had no interest in age play. After a time, she began learning of Daddy Doms not involved in age play, but who saw their D/s partners as girls. Then she met S. She truly believed S was a Daddy Dom, as he was, at first, so loving and supportive. He told her he was a Daddy Dom, and because she had not met other Daddy Doms, and stopped her online D/s interactions, she knew no differently.

After four very long, tumultuous years of losing jobs, losing money, losing her father, losing her good credit, losing her health, and even losing her home, she sent S away. She realized that S did not want her balanced, and happy, as he claimed. She realized S was not loving and supportive, but only appeared that way for a while to allow her to become addicted to him. After a while, S could no longer hide his true nature as an egotistical selfish addict, who had turned his addiction of drugs over to an addiction of cigarettes, and drama.

S intentionally pushed the girl out of balance, because it was then, and only then, that she truly believed she needed him. Once away from S, and his drama, the girl began to understand this fully. She knew she constantly questioned who she was, in S's presence, but believed, as S told her, that her imbalance and confusion was because she fought her submission. After a short time alone, she finally acknowledged that S was controlling and sadistic, not dominant, and that her well-being took second place to his comfort and happiness. S was a codependent, and she enabled him.

So, the girl took a year to find herself again. Once again, focused on her recovery, she began looking around the vanilla world for a man with whom to spend time. But the vanilla world just didn't satisfy the girl, and finally, with fear and distrust in her heart, the girl began her journey back into the D/s forest to see if she could locate the Big Bad Wolf, i.e., a Dominant. But, just like many other girls in fairy tales, and stories of old, she met lions, tigers, monkeys, dragons, pigs, bulls, and even a few odd ducks. All were too big, too old, too scary, too rough, too cold, or too hot. She was having no luck find the One that was "just right."

Until one day, online, while home with a very bad stomach flu, she met E. Now, she didn't think E was the one for whom she was looking. She had set age and distance limits, both of which he violated. He was also taller than anyone she had dated seriously, and bald, something which she never considered. But, his profile spoke to her of romance, seduction, culture, education, wisdom, and experience. And, interestingly enough, of being a Daddy Dom. She was intrigued but cautious.

His emails, only two or three in number, were succinct, charming, and well-written. They began chatting by instant messenger, and after a short time, he asked if she would be willing to talk by phone. She said, "yes," and never looked back. The first day they met online, they spoke by phone nearly seven hours. She doesn't remember, now, the first time she called him "Daddy." It was per his request, and she's certain he knows exactly when it was, but she doesn't recall.

What she does remember is the thought going through her mind while on the phone with E that first week that she would marry him. She knew in her heart she had found her soul mate, her forever lover, and the man of her dreams. By the end of that week, she was was hooked, addicted, head over heels crazy for the man she called, "Daddy."

As you know, I have many blog friends. One in particular is Gray Lily over at Journey Into Submission. Recently, she posted about her Daddy Michael. Her heart-felt post inspired me to discuss my relationship with Daddy, and what a Daddy/girl relationship means to me. As I began drafting my post, I realized I would need to break it down into several posts. The first part is here.

Then, her father got another job, just as her mother's parents died. When they moved, the girl, now 13, realized that she didn't have to be the best or the smartest anymore. She could be a new person, someone who had friends, and fun. So, she tried to leave her loneliness behind her. And, she did pretty well. She had friends, and fun, and found other girls who liked to read, and be smart too. And she met guys who liked her because she was cute and curvy, and sassy. But, her parents, particularly her father, hated the "new" girl.

Her father was now a boss of over 300 people, mostly men. He was still a workaholic, but now was also an alcoholic. He smoked 3 packs of cigarettes a day, and worked 12-14 hour days, six days a week. He was recognized as the country's best printer, but his children never knew this. His children were never allowed to learn of his accomplishments, and feel pride in having such a talented father. Her father wouldn't talk of such things because that was bragging. He didn't brag because that was wrong, and arrogant. Thus, his children didn't know this until his death.

Yet, he was an arrogant man. He believed that if you committed yourself to a job, you deserved recognition. He believed that if someone had money, it was because they found a way to "cheat" and be rich. He taught the girl that you can only be rich if you're greedy, and evil, and if you cheat. He learned that from his father, who worked hard every day, and died broken and poor. Her father often went to bed without supper as a boy, and didn't have but one shirt, one pair of pants, and a pair of hand-me-down shoes. It was only when he began working at age 12 that he had enough money to buy himself a new pair of shoes, and his own shirts and pants. He was a great man, a depressed genius, a lonely shell of a man, who never really figured out how to be happy until he reached 62 and was diagnosed with lung cancer.

The girl's mother didn't like the "new" girl either. She was dealing with the loss of her parents, and homesick for her hometown. She made few friends, and began drinking heavily with those friends, who were also had miserable lives and marriages. Her mom became even more withdrawn, more emotionally absent (if that were possible). when the girl got off the bus each day after school, she never knew what to expect when she walked in the door. Would her mother be nursing a hangover, or already drunk? Would her mother be pouting in silence, or raging, seething with anger, from being left to raise two children alone in a town she hated, while her workaholic husband partied and traveled with the salesmen from New York, Washington D.C., Florida, and California?

Now the girl was no longer praised, but hated for her desire to be loved, and liked by those in the community. The girl no longer cared about playing the saxophone, and played the piano only because she got attention at parties for doing so. She had well-developed curves, and had many men from her father's work stare and wolf-whistle at her. At 16, she looked 25, and could walk into any bar without a second glance, order a drink, and dance the night away. She had 30 year old men vying for her attention, and the boys her age were just that, boys, in whom she had no interest. More than one of the boys' fathers told her, in secret, that if only she were 10 years older, she would be wined and dined, and pampered as his wife.

Her parents called her "slut," and "whore," because she was constantly in the presence of boys, as few girls had any use for her, because they were afraid she would steal their boyfriends. The other boys in town started rumors that she was having sex with all of her male friends. Her friends all knew the truth, and fought valiantly to repair her tarnished reputation. But, she didn't care, as she getting the male attention for which she had craved many a year. It didn't matter how she got the male attention, as long as she got it.

She began dating a man 8 years her senior. They lost their virginity together, in the back seat of his 442. It was awful, painful, and she hated it. She loved the foreplay, but the sex scared her to death. It was almost a year later before she met a man she was willing to suffer that pain for again. This guy was a cop, and she was 17. She became friends with all of the police department. Her parents hated him, and she knew it. But, she didn't care. Little did she know that she was dating a man just like her father, workaholic, always absent, with a mean streak that included running around with women just to torment her with thoughts that he was always cheating. The drama and emotional abuse lasted about 3 years, until she moved away for a few months, taking a job in the city. While gone, alone and depressed, she realized how miserable she was with him in her life. She quit the job, moved back home, and started looking for a new man.

The next one was much worse. She lived with M nearly a year, her first live-in relationship. the benefit of this relationship was that M gave her orgasms. But, M was jealous, and overbearing. The emotional and verbal abuse destroyed what little self-esteem she had. She became a victim for a while, hiding out, living in fear of what he might do if he lost his temper. M never hit her, but it would have been easier to leave if he had. Verbal abuse leaves no visible marks, but the scars are horrific. It was as if she was beaten within an inch of her life each day. The stress was unbearable.

Her health began to fail, as she started experiencing migraines, and cysts, first in her breasts, then her ovaries. The ovarian cysts were so bad, she would literally pass out from the pain. Once, after she and M split up, she went to his house to talk with him. The ovarian pain flared, and she passed out on his bed. When she came to, M forced her out of his house, telling her he had other things to do, and it bothered him too much to see her in pain. So, he put her in her car, and she drove home, praying she didn't pass out from the pain. Although it was less than a 10 minute drive, she prayed she would make it safely home. Once home, she called her parents, called an ambulance, and promptly passed out again. She came to in the hospital.

Once out of the hospital, she began dating, and met her first husband, T. He lived a few hours away, and would come to visit her every weekend. M was unable to let go, and began stalking both her and T. He would call at 4 am, asking if he interrupted anything. He would circle her house in his car for hours, and try to get close to the two of them if they went out in public. Once, M showed up at her door drunk, demanding that T come out and fight him for the girl. The girl told M to get the f**k out of her house, and her life, and threatened to call the cops, as she still knew them all.

After this, she and T decided to marry, and she moved to his apartment in the city, a few hours from her hometown. She was 22, and had given up on the idea that she would ever go to college. But, it didn't matter, she thought she had found her Prince Charming. Little did she know, she married another workaholic, just like her father, emotionally absent because he gave all his love and attention to his momma.