Candy's Diary II

March 1

I can’t write. I can barely think. My heart is beating a million times a minute! I’m so, so happy I feel I could just leap up and fly to the moon! Okay, so… I told Daddy what happened at the club and what happened with the mean landlord and I was crying because it all seemed so bad and hopeless… but as always, Daddy knew exactly what to say to make me feel better and what to do to make everything okay again. And, and…

I can’t believe I’m writing this… I’ll move in with Daddy!!

It’s like a dream, like a fantasy come true, but at the same time he made it seem so simple, so obvious… I live for Daddy so it makes perfect sense to live with Daddy! That way he can be there and explain things to me and teach me and help me be what I’m supposed to be! But I’m also so scared!

I’ve never seen him. It’s so strange to think about, since he knows me better than anyone else, deep inside, in a way that no one ever knew me… and he knows me better than I know myself. But now I’ll see him, and I don’t know how I’ll react. It kinda feels like meeting God, or like, the best rock star ever. Will I be able to even speak in front of him? Will I see him and just fall to my knees instantly? I feel like seeing him might make me cum and cum and never stop cumming! But what if…

What if I’m not good enough?

I’ve done everything he told me to do to make myself the best girl I can be for him. I… I think I used to be different, but every day those memories fade away more and more. I’m his slut. I’m his toy. I’m his plaything. That’s all I want to be. But am I hot enough? Slutty enough? Obedient enough? I mean, if I live with him… He’ll see me all the time. He’ll see me edge and he’ll see me right after I’ve woken up and he’ll see me while I’m picking outfits and doing my makeup. What if he sees something he doesn’t like? What if I do something bad and boring and not fun?

Well, he’ll tell me how to do everything like a good girl should, I guess. But the fear is still there and I don’t like it.

I should edge. I’m thinking too much. Edging makes me better. Edging makes me wetter. Wetter is better. Better not to think.