i’ve been thinking about the words we use in an overarching sense but also just one word. One single word that carries a lot of weight, a lot of meaning: Daddy.
In private, i am most likely to call her Daddy. And it’s not because we primarily have a Daddy/girl relationship, because we don’t. Neither of us want that, it wouldn’t suit us.
What does it mean that i call this woman “Daddy”?
Well….it’s a lot of things.
First, it speaks to my inner child, the part of me that is most vulnerable and sensitive. And also the most playful and irreverent. We each have a tendency to be rigid with ourselves and each other and we each work in our own ways to not let this happen. It keeps her from being bored, which is what i think would occur pretty fast for her if we both succumbed to a rigid life together.
It is important that i help keep things playful because we both value being silly and the woman that is me is not especially prone to being silly.
So, calling her Daddy for one thing denotes that i trust her with the most fragile, vulnerable, sensitive parts of my being. It also means that i am not afraid to inject humor into most situations and consider this to be a vital form of service to her and to the relationship, even if she would prefer at times that i not make us both giggle when we are supposed to be sleeping.
What else does it mean?
Well, it is also the part of me that is comfortable asking for what i want directly and without carefully weighing it out into a logical decision tree first. It is simple and bare. It is the part of me still aware of my woman-child powers to seduce without intention or apology.
You see, i am a woman-child. i likely always will be, having no true desire- and perhaps no full ability- to be entirely grown. This is a part of why i need a strong hand and guidance. There are also a ton of things that i just never learned along the way of life, having no real family to speak of, and i have to fight my most basic desires to submit against the way i was raised in my nuclear family (a hedonistic clan which taught me to rebel against everything except the matriarch).
Now that i have said a bit about what this is….let me clarify what this is not:
It’s not about role-play.
It’s not about age-play.
It’s not an excuse for me to behave in ways that are not becoming.
It’s not about me not having accountability.
i’m not judging those things or how they work for other people. i just know that it doesn’t work for me and would not work for us.
If anything, i have to be more fully present at times and more self-aware because a sharp word can suddenly make me want to burst into tears. This is strange to me, having spent a lifetime with a protective barrier. Also, i decided very young and early on that ego is a disservice to an M/s relationship because it hinders me taking criticism well and i am highly goal and task-oriented. The task being done well matters much more to me than how i might be feeling at any given moment. In other words, i am a slave first and foremost. As such, i’m focused and am able to hear that i did not do something perfectly without personalizing it.
But my inner child? Hmmm. Well….she might lead with her id but the ego is still intact. And because i mean no harm and my intentions are to be pleasing, it can feel like a backhand to my inner child’s soul to hear that i’ve done something wrong.
Last week, in a crowded restaurant, Sir Raven noted how distracted i was getting in the noise and the strange lighting of the place and firmly said, “focus.” Not two seconds later, a sound which i could not identify sounded close to my face and i turned away again. When she quietly reprimanded me, i felt awash in shame, having given her a message that is entirely not intentional. It seems like a simple enough thing to obey a directive to focus, even if it was in a crowded, unfamiliar place where i couldn’t see anything. It shouldn’t matter and i know that. If i had not been in a vulnerable place inside of myself right then, i could have apologized and hopefully moved on. But no. i had to ask to go outside for a moment, because i felt near tears. i was not upset at the reproach but at a horrible message i had sent with my inattention.
When i do something wrong, there is a coldness in her energy. It feels like a sudden blast of icy wind, that takes your breath away, stops your thoughts in its tracks. As much as i detest the fire heat and sound of the strap, i would prefer that to the distance that can rise up in the wake of the icy air. It doesn’t happen often and the main cause is that i have mentally wandered off too far for too long.
The sting of knowing that i did not obey a clear directive and left her feeling that i was not paying attention to her was horrible. Several minutes passed and i quietly said i understood the message she got and why she was angry and just sat there with it….as my inner child dueled it out with my inner slave. i wanted to cry and ask her to make me cry at the same time….and i am emphatically not a person who cries often or well.
When she finally reached her hand out and took mine across the table, i felt just bliss. There is nothing in the world like her hands.
The rest of the night was sensational, including her mocking question in my ear as she used me in public, “Are you going to beg, no Daddy, please no…?” i replied by arching into her cane, like a wanton whore, a primal beast. Starving. And just like that, in another crowded room full of sounds and distractions, i was intently focused on her.
There was nothing else.
There is a Mayan parable: Beyond woman, hidden in woman, resides child hidden in child, resides zero.
In Mayan principle, zero represents something whole and useful. A cup may be hollow, but the hollow space is the useful part.
She proved, once again, that she can restore my focus at will.
She took me down to zero.
Her hands in my hair, dragging me back up on the table, laying her whip down on my back to ruthlessly cane my body full of needles, demanding, “don’t let my whip fall” and i moaned and arched and knew nothing in this world besides the urgent need of her pain. The urgent need to both bleed for her and let my soul bleed into her, no barriers between us. Nothing but the exquisite pain, asked and answered.
You see, this was not a Daddy spanking a girl.
This was a Master using her slave. Dragging her down to zero.
No words needed.