Hello humble traveler, I hope you had as pleasant a Thursday as I did. Though I’m sure very few of you got to finally meet your previously, exclusively online Dom.

Our meet went well. By well, I of course mean, absolutely amazing and I can’t wait to visit again. But I don’t know when that’ll get to be. So I’m trying not to get too excited over the trip. Least I get too lonely and melancholy in the mean time. Our discussion over living costs in Sydney and the average wage of a retail employee an eye opening conversation for the both of us.

I was quieter than usual and low key nervous the whole time, but I expected no less. I’m happy with how comfortable I became and that I wasn’t too indecisive. Though I am now hyper aware of how limited my palate is. Not too surprising when mash and steak are the main staples of my household. So I think Daddy did amazingly well picking places to eat from my vague requests.

Our foray into the sexual was pleasantly gradual. Holted somewhat by my inexperience. Though not by my knowledge, but rather my body’s current limitations. I wasn’t ashamed or upset by that though, it’s hardly something I can control, and didn’t stop me from being able to please my Daddy.

His endearment over my inclination to sit on the floor beside his chair rather than on the sectional away from him was amusing. He seemed pleasantly baffled by the natural submissive tendency. I just didn’t want to have to sit across the room from him, anyway it gave him the perfect position to stroke my neck and fiddle with my hair.

It also left me in a prime position to be able to take his length into my mouth. Something we experimented with during our time together. I must say I am enjoying oral, and from what I gathered I’m not too bad at it. His hands twisting up and tugging at my hair making it all the more pleasant.

Speaking of that fine line, I must say I do hope the few slaps I got on my ass are a promise of more to come. They didn’t even sting afterwards and I’m interested to know what its like when they do. While it’s better I didn’t come out the other side of the visit hickied to heck as I have a week away with family now. I really wish he’d marked me up in some way, so I’d have some physical reminder of a time that otherwise feels like a dream. Baby steps though I suppose, I still need to master the basics before progressing into physical declarations of ownership.

His attentions were amazing, it was so primally pleasing to have someone fuss over me. Make sure I was comfortable, fed and cared for. Even just the most basic of physical contact was like cold water to parched lips. I’ve just felt so emotionally starved, and it felt so fulfilling to be someone’s priority.

It’s kind of sad how happy I was to have someone help me zip my dress up this morning. Such a simple thing… But it just means so much to me, I can’t even remember the last time it happened. For someone who’s always had to have a decent level of self sufficiency its such joy to not have to be so independent. To be able to rely on someone without feeling like you’re a burden.

So while I go process all that the last two days have bestowed upon me, I hope you too find joy in the simple things in life dear traveler.

I wish you well,



Hello bewildered traveler! I hope your year has had as swell a start as my own. Half baked plans have born unexpected fruit and I’m positively vibrating with excitement. Who new an impromptu visit to friends would lead to our first meeting!

Our soon has arrived! I’m getting a few firsts all at once with the introduction of a day trip to my experiences. Such a simply thing that has never been apart of my life, the luxury of buying plane tickets for one night seems to be my first introduction to my Daddy’s pampering.

How different our worlds are that the thought of spending only one night in another city had not occurred to me before his suggestion. I’ve grown up with a mentality of not having the money to waste on such frivolities of one night trips. No, I’ve been taught to take as much as I can from an experience, so my mind has been clouded with week long trips where I can get more in for the same airfare. How odd and exciting it feels to go there for only one night with the promise of more visits to come.

For I feel that more visits will be entailed. We are having this first short visit to test the waters and our compatibility in real life. Yet the investment I feel he has already put onto me makes me believe that we could hardly stop at one. Tough maybe that is my wishful thinking, maybe we will meet and not get along at all.

Though I don’t think that would crush me. Yes I would be saddened at the loss of his company. But this Daddy has been such a stepping stone into such a whole new world for me. I could hardly see myself being disheartened be the ending of my first Dom/sub relationship.

But I don’t want to dwell on that, I want to soar on the mix of euphoria, anticipation and hint of fear that wells inside me. For someone like me fear is mixed with every new experience; but I’ve learnt to turn it into a more excited fear, rather than a destructive, limiting one.

I must dash now, I have to pack to my ‘one change of clothes’ into a bag either too big or too small as the spontaneity has left me woefully unprepared. My notoriety for over-packing something I’d like my Daddy to be ignorant of for a little while longer. Oh and to attempt to undo the slight neglect my beauty routine has gone through over the holiday season.

I wish you well,

Anonymous Number

Hello Traveler, you’ve been heavy in my thoughts of late. I’m simultaneously busy and perpetually surrounded by people; yet feel lonely and directionless.  For the moment this is my grounding force, my medium onto which I can shift my focus to. Least I once again stray from life’s path.

I received a text from a random number the other day and it has haunted me much more than it has any reason too. It is just me that can sense tone within text? Because I swear they were very accusatory. Though it’s probably just my over active imagination. They hardly sent four lines of characters.

It’s gripped me most because they asked who I was… They contacted me through I-messages and I have an email address from them rather than phone number. Saying hi then asking who I was when I responded with Hello? as though someone should have known who they were from their email address alone. I had a minor panic that they had contacted me through my email address, which I don’t like the thought of them knowing.

That’s not what caused me the most anguish though I’m afraid to admit. When I entered into a relationship with my Dom I knew that he was a divorcee, I didn’t see an issue in it. I’ve grown up in an age where divorce is akin to a fashion trend. However, my overactive mind arbitrarily connected the email address to my Dom’s name.

It’s a very common name, highly likely to be just a coincidence. But I can’t help but cower at the thought of one of his past lovers contacting me. Of how they might slander my Dom about our age gap… I’ve long since given up on adhering to society, its amazing what constitutes deformation and unlawful denial of work. But it’d tear me up if my relationship with someone effected their relationships or business dealings.

Or even worse, it being his mother and having to answer a woman’s questions as to why someone young enough to be her granddaughter is dating her son. I’m not yet privy to my Dom’s relationship with his family just yet. So my mind has a blank slate to conjure troubles from. A bad situation for someone with anxiety.

I’m hoping that by getting it off my chest here it’ll ease my anxieties over it. I’ve already responded and resolved the (alleged) wrong number. Even shared it with my friends, whom are ever appreciative to see my words at work. Apparently its impressive to be able to address someones question without answering it and leading the conversation away from it, all in the same sentence.

It just seemed natural and polite to me.

I wish you well,


Nick Name Vs Mental Issue

Salutations busy Traveler, I hope that you are fairing well. I myself are certainly caught up in the season. But not so much that I lack time to think. Of that I can still do plenty; even while working to please the unending masses.

It has always been a point of intrigue for me, the use of Daddy as a name for ones lover. Many years ago I swore to myself that I’d never be caught up in one of those relationships. The line between paternity and partner one too strong for me to see past the language. To be fair, I used to hate being refereed to as ‘baby’ too. It felt like a demeaning term. Oh how I’ve changed since those early days. How different my life would have been had I closed myself off to change.

As one entranced by the mind and all its quirks, I’m quite prone to reading any and all information about mental conditions and oddities that I can. Surprise, surprise it took me little time to become familiar with the concept of Daddy Issues. It was only in the last few years that this information became prevalent to me though;and I began to break down the stigma of it within my own mind.

I fell into bit of a toxic relationship with a boy that would make any sane women shiver at the creepiness that flowed from his pores. But he knew just what to say and as a young women craving attention he had me hooked. This was the first time the concept of calling someone other than your father Daddy arose. He wanted me to call him Daddy.

Thankfully our relationship never progressed passed that of an online one, he was too much of a coward to ever talk to me in person (Even though we occupied the same social circle). At first I was repulsed, citing the good old fashion link to Daddy Issues. Which seemed appropriate in his case since he had many a issues with his own father, let alone his mother.

But then we fell out and my mind kept leading me back to what I would do if someone I was truly invested in wished for me to call them Daddy. Gradually I came to the acceptance that; if it pleased my partner, what was a word to me? I have issues with my father myself, but none that lay unresolved. He didn’t abandon me, or abuse me; he just hurt me with his ignorance. But that’s all been lain to rest, I hold no hurt inside.

Once I started talking to my current Daddy he made me realize that I couldn’t just call him Daddy without meaning it. So I delved deeper into my thoughts. My dabbles in literary theory and the break down of words used in deconstructing lead me to the conclusion that: the word held meaning because it was assigned so, so why not re-assign its meaning? I hadn’t called my own father Daddy since I could toddle, so why let that stop me?

The meanings of words change all the time, so I was hardly grasping at straws; granted this if often a much slower process. Though it was surprisingly simple to implement. It was as if a teacher had gotten married and taken on their partners name. That slow rewriting of ones brain to use their new name. Hiccups occurred yes, but, after a while I hardly had to remind myself, it came as naturally to me as the original meaning had.

So Daddy has come to mean something entirely different to me. It means happiness, protection, growth, and every little thing that my Dominant gives me. He is my Daddy, and I will never again see that as a degrading thing. It’s amazing how much better I feel about myself now that I have shed any guilt I may have burdened myself with from society. Why should their opinions matter to my life anyway?

Baby too has evolved within my mind, opened from a tiny green bud of distaste to a beautiful bloom of life I could hardly live without. Little can brighten my already cheery days as much as a message addressed from my Daddy to his baby girl.

I wish you well,



Greetings Traveler,

Sleep has always been my most fickle mistress. Plaguing me with inconsistent bouts of sleepless nights and days lost to slumber. I’m told that it is but a condition of my mental laps, that my anxiety is to blame for the odd sleeping patterns. A constant balancing act between in and hyper somnia. Though it feels as though there is more to it than just that. I can go for weeks, months without fault. Sleeping at the drop of a hat and waking at the first notes of my alarm.

Then something happens, a mysterious disrupt to my equilibrium and I’ll be scrambling to re-align my sleep. Not always a bad thing, despite how I make it seem. My Dom made a comment the other day, in that apparently offhanded way that is anything but. About imagining going to sleep with me within his arms. I’ve struggled to get to sleep since.

My queen sized bed suddenly much too big for one. I stretch across miles of plush sheets only to brush fingers over the cool wall. I’ve felt so lonely in a bed that has always been my sanctuary. But of late no number of pillow nests has been able to stave off the feeling that I’m missing something. The warmth of another human body, the muscles of an arm wrapped around a waist, and the solid comfort of a broad chest.

I lose my sleep chasing a dream that I am yet to satisfy. A desire burning in my belly, fanned by the knowledge that the means are right there before me. Lying just out of reach. The only comfort coming from the trigger of my misery. The giggle that always bubbles to my lips every time I imagine my Dom clutching a pillow to his chest just as I press one to my back and clutch myself.

The juxtaposition of such a distinguished individual reduced to complying with his most basic needs a comfort to my primal side. Though I doubt that that’s exactly how he deals with the need; I can still gleam comfort from the idea.

I wish you well,


Why hello again traveler,

It has been some time since we last spoke. I hardly remembered your existence as fleeting as it has been. My own has been quite fickle, like a flame fighting a strong breeze. But the wind has calmed now and I find myself having to fight less to stay afloat. Though now I face another peril. The lack of distraction. The unappreciated blessing of being busy.

Is it fair to claim to miss someone whom you have never met? Can I call the need I feel to see him longing, if I have not yet met who I am longing for? I can’t miss his tight embrace, or tender lips if I have not yet encountered them. It makes me ache all the more as I have no memories to clutch to my chest. Soon has become our mantra. The only thing tethering me to the ground when I feel the loneliness might consume me.

Soon we may meet. Soon we may get the chance to fulfill all the muttered promises we silently make while typing to each other from a million miles away. Soon the distance will fold like a sheet of paper, bringing opposite corners together. But will soon be soon enough?

It feels as though life is throwing as many obstacles in our path as it can. Miss matching schedules, doors slammed in faces due to marks from an arbitrary system. Well meaning parents questioning ones ability to make it in a new world, when they are unaware that someone is waiting there already to guide you.

But most crippling, ones own doubt. What if he loses interest? There must be many willing to be his sub whose soon would be sooner than my own. Is his late response an indication of just that? No, I must remember his other commitments. Hold dear the time we get to talk and play. And take solace in every time he erases all my doubts with a simple soon.

I wish you well,


Hello traveler,

I wonder where you have stumbled in from. Gushing water like a tap from the raging storm you’ve just crawled out of, thirsty and weary from stumbling directionless through the desert you were lost in or simply tiptoeing from your house as you slowly encounter the world beyond your home. Welcome regardless of where you’re from, seek shelter with me for a bit and I will share with you wondrous and disastrous stories of a journey still in progress. May they inform and warn you of the perils ahead, but not put you off your path of self discovery, simple curiosity, or any other drive that has lead you to my door. I hope that you leave with something; a simple phrase, a piece of advice or just a single feeling that you can grasp a hold of from all my chatter.

I wish you well,