Effort’s Effect 

All those tall beautiful young girls dressed in sexy clothes with tiny little bodies in cute thigh highs, well, they aren’t me. I’m short, chubby, and funny, I wear the sexy thigh highs, anyway. I laugh at it sometimes, but daddy never makes me feel less sexy because he appreciates the effort. The fact I please him and that I am obedient is the sexy part. That I try to take care of his needs, makes him happy. My sister and I make him happy. We make the effort, sometimes effort is what is needed. 
He takes the time to understand us. More than any man I know. He wants to know what makes me Tick, why something’s don’t bother me and others make me very upset. He mentions those things to me and we talk. He’s always right and I am amazed I didn’t see those traits before within myself. He is observant, so am I. We look for subtle signs of distress, anger, uncomfortableness. Emotional triggers to say that is bad, that is good. We keep each other happy. And most of all we communicate. When things go wrong, we talk. I’m far from perfect, and I know I can often forget to filter when I’m angry. Daddy will even be angry at me, but still we talk. We ask questions, how did it feel, why did that upset you? I always try to do better. I’m far from perfect. I don’t look perfectly , or act perfectly, but damn I try to make him happy and he always appreciates the effort. It’s the effort and trying that is so seductive to us. Sugar. 

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