I have a poor memory and i dont keep track of asks ive sent. I wonder how many pieces of me are sitting in your askbox

I’ve got stuff in there dating back to 2014, so… it could be a lot.

What are the benefits of having cameras in your girls homes?

I’ve probably answered this before, but whatever. Here’s the summary: LDRs suck, especially for submissive girls.

Now to be more precise…

• Did she fall asleep on the couch or put herself to bed? Did she clean up the kitchen after dinner? Is she working or scrolling? Did she remember to do the laundry, because she’s got that thing tomorrow? How’s she gonna decide which boots to return? How’s she supposed to get back to sleep after a nightmare if someone isn’t watching for monsters coming down the hall? The answer to all these questions involves me opening a camera app and checking on her.
• Don’t underestimate the value of presence. The camera’s speaker allows me to independently project my voice into her space. She doesn’t have to open an app or press a button or take any volitional action… I’m just there, hanging in the air. Just as importantly, I get to see the secret smiles and unexpected tears and awkward moments as if I were a fixture around the house… I know the faces she makes when she’s making faces just for herself.
• It makes a girl feel safe. Ninety-five percent of the time, I’m like a dad poking his head in the door of his daughter’s bedroom, just to check on her and say “good job” or “good night”. Granted, the other five percent of the time I’m still like a dad poking his head in the door of his daughter’s bedroom, only now there’s some… lingering. And pantslessness. The point is, she doesn’t feel alone.
• Safe… except when I startle her by suddenly speaking when she doesn’t know I’m looking. The reactions range from the classic deer-in-headlights, to horrified embarrassment, to some straight up Bugs Bunny shit… she leaps up, arms splayed in a panicked parody of self-defense, her hair standing on end, and she proceeds to hover in mid-air for longer than the laws of physics allow before collapsing like a sack of potatoes on the floor. (And then has the gall to wonder why I don’t take her seriously as an adult. You’re a fucking cartoon, you little freak.)
• I don’t have to ask if she’s been going to the gym.
• Seeing her face light up when she gets a message from you is one of the best “I love you”s that one can receive.
• I’m a cheap pet-sitter and occasional alarm clock.
• No, you are not going out dressed like that, young lady.

I could go on for a while… there’s a lot.

It feels like a hug when you’re far away. That’s the gist.

Do you consider what you do “play”? Does it fit into the term “dynamic”? Do you consider yourself “high protocol”?

Welp…

1. Sometimes. In my world, “what you do” covers a whole lotta ground.
2. …well, yeah. Pretty much all relationships do.
3. Ha! No… I’m neither a maker of lists nor a kinky pedant, and I don’t stand on ceremony so much as rest my feet on it like an ottoman.

I feel so needy and tired. And i dont mean like “oh im so wet i need cock so bad” i mean emotionally and mentally. Im so frustrated and so tired of pushing people away and making them feel like theyre not enough and theyre not doing enough for me. I want to be better at embodying the spirit of the phrase “you get what you get and you dont throw a fit” but i dont even know where to start.

And this isnt about you, im not looking for you to tell me how worthless i am or how little a fuck you give about me. You just have a lot of life experience and i need help, or advice, or…anything. You dont owe me anything but id appreciate it a lot.

Everything hurts

Why would I tell a hurting stranger that she’s worthless? I’m not a dick to people who don’t invite it, and if I were going to say something mean to you, it would be intended to cheer you up, not bring you down.

Anyhoo… I don’t know any particulars about your life, so I can’t do more than throw out some random thoughts. But I’ll give it a shot…

First, I’d investigate to see if this is simply your impression of what’s happening, or if it’s something people are clearly conveying. Maybe everyone’s telling you “you make me feel insufficient”, or maybe you’re just tinkering with a black box of failed relationships, and this whole “I’m pushing people away” thing is your hapless attempt at reverse-engineering a conclusion from an opaque quandary.

Second, I’d figure out why you’re pushing people away. Do you have an overweening sense of entitlement which leads you to demand more than you merit? Are your expectations normal-ish, but you’re so self-involved that you don’t realize the people around you need your support as much as you need theirs? Or are you a walking bag of self-loathing who uses her plainly ridiculous and unattainable “standards” as a tool of isolation… are you forcing people to let you down in a predictable fashion so they never get a chance to disappoint you in their own way?

Third, I’d suggest you re-read what you’ve written. Because essentially, you asked for help, on your own very specific and judgement-laden terms, from someone who you acknowledge owes you little more than a smidge of casual humanity. In other words, your ask is like your life, in miniature. Honestly, I’m not sure if you’re asking for advice or daring me to give a fuck.

Perhaps give that some thought, kiddo. If you give people a chance to care for you in their own way, it might be even better than what you have in mind.

How do you feel about diapers?

Um…

1. I think wearing them would be pretty humiliating. Particularly if you were, say, a stupid girl with very limited bladder capacity, and everyone in your family knew you were so pathetic that you couldn’t be trusted to access a toilet like an adult.
2. They’re also disgusting from a functional standpoint —hey, let’s capture this gross human’s kidney output!— and an aesthetic nightmare… I mean, the lumpy, plasticky, crinkly vibe is off-putting at best.
3. There’s certainly nothing hot about them. They’re… ugh. But in my world, girls do lots of ugh-ly things, and I’ve learned that one must be patient with their many failings and personal incompetencies. Just keep those nasty bags of piss at least ten feet away from me at all times. And someone spray some Febreeze, it stinks in here.

I have weird feelings for you. Feelings i don’t totally understand.

I dont call men i dont know daddy because it just means too much to me emotionally. And honestly, even if i did, you dont really feel like daddy.

But i jump at the chance to “interact” with you. Even if that means sitting quietly in the background while you stream. Falling asleep to you rambling.

Its parasocial as fuck, but im starting to see how you can refer to yourself as a god. Something to be worshipped. Adored from afar.

Idk, im sure i had a point but im not sure what it was

At this point, I feel like girls should just introduce themselves with “Hi, I have weird feelings for you.”

There is a contingent of girls who insist I don’t feel like Daddy, that I’m both more meaningful and more distant. Eventually, they all end up calling me Daddy.

I refer to myself as a god, but not in the invisible, omnipotent sky-daddy sense. I’m a god cobbled together from antlers and pelts, that presides over its debauched supplicants and gives physical form to their dreams.

And don’t worry, it looks like your point was evolving.

(See? What’d I tell ya?)

Smart girl… best not to fuck around with things you barely understand, things that can swallow you whole. Take your time, and remember that adopting a new faith is a major decision that’s not to be rushed.

But to be clear: you don’t love-it-but-hate-it. You fear it. You fear what you’ve found, both in the space around me and the space inside you. You fear what this says about you, and what it means about me. You fear that at this rate, you’re a couple weeks away from offering me your immortal soul in return for my indifference. You fear that this is the lengthiest interaction we’ve had —amounting to little more than nothing— and you’re still going to read it twenty times, scarcely aware of how much smaller you feel with each perusal.

Like I said… smart girl.

…

Don’t worry, I’ll still be here when you come looking.

I’ve been following you for about 7 years and I’m still nervous to talk to you, but I hope you’re well and thank you for all the tummy tickles throughout the years ♡

I’ve been an itchy spot at the base of your brain for probably a quarter of your life. It’s not a pain or even a tingle… if it were, you’d have summoned the gumption to risk your utterly pointless dignity and my precious time.

It’s just an itch. Just enough to keep you transfixed and silent as the years flow by.

I think that’s cute.

Thank you very much for the well-wishes, and you are most welcome.