Ancyra

What's in an email? The best opening emails are straight forward with just a hint of filth. It defines the difference between sub and Dom, between little girl and Daddy. It shows intelligence, humour, and contains as little spelling and grammar malfunctions as possible. It's asking for effort, an interest in really putting themselves in the search. It doesn't need to define the world, every detail of their kink, or their deepest secrets. Copy-Pasters are their own breed. More than likely, if an email contains four or more paragraphs they're just human-bots. Jerking off as they re-read what they've more than likely stolen from someone else. Not even hoping for reply, but so pent-up sexually that even thinking a sub will read their email brings them to orgasm (and probably prematurely at that). Friend-Finders enjoy emailing half-naked subs because, well, they're half-naked. They enjoy the slight feeling of superiority yet wont go any further. In their loneliness, they seek friends anywhere they can find them. And if their friends can be naked, all the better. Journey-ers seem to think they've spent more time in BDSM than anyone else and love trying to prove it. They'll give details about everything they've done, and act as if doing something and having it under their belt is the most important thing. Where there is no mystery, there's no interest. Most experience is probably a false-truth. If they've done everything, why are they alone? Maybe they're strikingly bad at it.

My first adventure in meeting someone from CM went well. And surprisingly enough we avoided meeting in a coffee shop, which is all the rage on this website. It's almost as if CM has some kind of marketing agreement with Starbucks. I was late, only slightly, it had taken me longer to find a place to park than I had expected. We both knew the area well, given the joint love of spending money on appearance. The bench we had agreed upon was full of tourists, all investigating their over-priced purchases and grinning foolishly as they showed each other what they had found. I hung off to the side, a few feet from the stolen bench. As it turned out, he was running late as well. I probably took his parking spot and he was left in search. The weather was quite nice, cloudy but still warm enough for my legs to be bare without causing me to shiver. I didn't even notice him walk up and stand beside me, I was too heavily invested in willing the tourists to leave using my mind. Coffee in hand he stood there, I am not sure how long, without making a noise and watched the tourists along with me. It wasn't until he made comment that his drink was really quite awful, but that he expected so much and handed me a drink. After a sip I had to agree, Starbucks coffee has never met my tastes. The day went on quite well. A pair of shoes here and several dresses there. He had a fairly dirty sense of humour, or maybe it wasn't humour at all. Critiquing my choices in dresses, telling me to bend forward a little bit and then a little bit more to decide if something was just short enough or needed to be shorter. Telling me a dress would look better if he could see more of my tits, or would be better suited if I wasn't wearing a bra and then sliding it off me to prove his point. Clearly he enjoyed it, especially when he was trying things on. Telling the teenage fitting-room clerk he didn't like a pair of jeans because it contained too many buttons, and if I couldn't undo his pants with just my mouth he'd need to go through all the effort of uncuffing me. I'm not sure how long we had walked around. I'd guess at least two hours before we both got tired of having annoyingly short tourists rub up against us to get in-between us and an item one or both of us were looking at. We made plans for dinner that evening.

School's out and Daddy is no where to be found. I just want to be a good little girl. I wonder if my Daddy is searching for me as well. If he'll see his little girl's body here, ready and willing to be used for his pleasure. I so want to be used as your whore Daddy. Your little cum-slut. The bitch you keep tied to your bed. Stretching my every hole to fulfill your deepest, darkest desires. Making me scream and beg from over-use. Please Daddy, I'm looking for you. Looking for you to teach me how to be a good little girl. Teach me to please you Daddy. Show me what it's like to be your whore. What it's like to be Daddy's personal fucktoy. Teach me what my body is really supposed to be used for.

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