Daddy’s Girls

Daddy’s girls are all out of sorts.

Yoga Girl, Daddy’s lover, is concerned that it has now gone from her two times a week and The Girlfriend once a month, plus assorted randoms, to three women all living in the same city, loving the same man.

The Girlfriend is concerned that we might try to usurp her place as Daddy’s primary relationship.

And I am (less now, but still) worried that he will not have time for me.

Poor Daddy. He has told Yoga Girl that at least now there will be no more random sex–he has his hands more than full with the three of us. He has assured The Girlfriend that Yoga Girl and I are both married with children and are not looking for a primary partner. And for me, he just keeps telling/showing me how much he cares for me.

“You know I don’t enjoy whipping you with the riding crop more than once or twice,” he said. “After that, it’s just punishment. You asked me to help you quit smoking. Trust me, as much as getting whipped hurts, it’s not as bad as cancer.”

And then later that night:

“You know I really do care about you, right?”

“I know, Daddy.”

“I want you to have a happy home life, and I want you to have a happy slut-life.”

“Thank you, Sir.”


I imagine Daddy is under a lot of stress. I told him tonight, after him giving me advice on how to help my husband break into Daddy’s industry, as well as promising to make some calls to industry friends in the morning on Hubby’s behalf, that I wanted to be friends with his other girls.

“I just think we should be friends,” I said. “As naive as this might be, they’re my sister wives. We should all get to know each other.”

Daddy agreed. The Girlfriend is hesitant but willing–she says she just needs to be eased into it. Yoga Girl wants to meet–whether we play together or not, she feels the way I do. I am trying not to get my hopes up too high. I have no idea what either of these other women are like. But we all love Daddy and Daddy loves us (though they are not his baby girls–we all have unique roles in his life), and I would love to at least try to see if we can be friends. Part of me–the young, hopeful part, buried deep down inside–feels like this could be the start of the poly family I’ve always wanted. Whether I become sexually involved with the other two or not, we should at least all be able to spend time together.

We’ll see.


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