First message
”Long days. Late nights. Early morning. Things never get easier for me” I think in my head as I’m sitting at my desk, smoking a cigarette, in my study ignoring my crying babygirl throwing a tantrum outside of my door. Apparently she wants Papa’s thigh. But no. She can’t get it because she has been a very bad girl. Touching her cunny without my permission. Tsk. Tsk. Tsk. Go to bed babygirl.I yell exhaustively from my desk and it seems like her crying/thrashing gets even worse. Bad, Bad girl.