My Daddy is not a DomPosted: April 6, 2015
My Daddy is not a Dom. We do not follow the traditional script–at all. He has a very naturally protective nature. He likes to be there for people. He has a White Knight complex (which isn’t a bad thing, at least not for this Baby Girl).
My Daddy is not a Dom, which means that he has no sadistic tendencies. He is into spanking for pleasure, not pain. He has a hard time punishing me. He is figuring out when to tell me what to do, and when to let me make my own mistakes.
My Daddy is only my Daddy because I am Baby Girl. He is only my Daddy because I asked him to be. But the only reason I asked him to be, is because he has been so very Daddy-like from the get-go. Ordering for me in restaurants. Putting my food on my plate, or cutting off my crusts. Opening the door for me, or guiding me across an icy parking lot. Buying me things I couldn’t afford for myself. Making sure I make doctors appointments and keep them.
My Daddy is not a Dom. He does not want to punish me. We came up with a rewards system instead. We share an app. He puts down what he wants/needs me to do, and I check it off when I’ve done it. I earn points when I do them, and these translate into rewards.
This means that I am never scared of angering him by being a slacker. This is both a good thing and a bad thing. I have trouble regulating myself and my actions. The threat of his anger, or of a punishment, would help me keep myself in check more and help me reach my goals faster.
At the same time, his loving, gentle guidance, has made it so that I am able to make good decisions for myself. I have his opinion and I weigh it, but ultimately, the choice is up to me. This means if, heaven forbid, we were to break up, I would hopefully know how to keep my life in balance–because its not fear that helps me make the right decision.
Do I wish he was stricter? Sometimes. But I feel like we are starting to figure this out. It is not that I don’t know what I need to do, or the right decision to make–it is that I have a difficult time trusting myself. I feel that if someone doesn’t tell me I am not allowed to do something, that means that it does not really matter. It is empowering and scary to hear that I am allowed to make my own choices. But I am getting better at it.
My Daddy sometimes spanks me when I misbehave. It stings, but it isn’t terrible. He is more likely to have a reasoned conversation with me–to tell me why he does or does not want me to do something, rather then outright tell me that I can’t. The D/S in our relationship is very light–blindfolds or restraints, spankings, my wrists being held down, him ordering me around in bed. None of it hurts. None of it scares me–though it does excite me.
But he gets the part of me that is a baby girl. He gets that I need to be cuddled. He understands that I get whiny when I am under a lot of stress. He is okay with baby talk when this happens. He knows that cookies and wine cheer me up, so he does this. I have two stuffies–one that lives at his place, and one that lives at mine. I have my princess panties, which he will ask me to wear at random. I have my white baby girl panties with the bows, which I usually wear with a plaid school-girl skirt and button-down.
When I am feeling naughty, he fucks me until I am sane again. When I am feeling lonely, he makes love to me.
Our relationship is not a traditional power-exchange relationship. Sometimes he pulls rank and I do what he asks, and sometimes he leaves me to make my own choices–knowing I will learn from them. But he loves me. He takes care of me. He is my Daddy. And I am so grateful.