As I sit here, I am inside out and upside down with a new kind of ache that has been consuming me for the better part of three days now.
It is a foreign feeling in some ways, but as you are ill, it is killing me inside to not be able to do anything about it.
I just wish I could take care of you.
I wish I could make you feel better.
This is not a sexy post. There will be no mentions of forced orgasms and hair pulling; chicken noodle soup and petting your hair is more in line with what I am thinking.
This past summer I wrote a piece called “DD/LG…Or Could I Be A Daddy Dom?.” Now I am beginning to see how deep this feeling goes.
Fuck, I have kept my mouth shut as much as possible so that you can get some rest and avoid having to worry about anything other than getting better, but I hate you are not in my lap.
I am supposed to be there for you. All I can do is write some lame ass post telling you how I wish I could.
I’ve realized it is not the Dom in me, but the Daddy Dom. It’s not the guidance and the tasks and just being there to listen. No, it is you, suffering, and me, not being able to fucking do anything at all about it.
I fucking hate it.
Rest Kitten. I love you and my heart is with you.
Also published on Medium.