The Little Girl and The Wolf

The thing about folk tales is how they can shift throughout history, how it can be given new meaning through interpretation and how peeling back its layers can breathe new life into its characters, themes and symbolism.

He was her wolf and she was his little girl and they belonged to each other.

She saw all of him, his gruff exterior, his warm interior, and he saw all of her, the dyed red cloth concealing the vulnerable little girl underneath.

He was a loner, an outcast from the pack left alone to roam, and she was thought to be too peculiar to be approachable.

The wolf had promised to lead her through the woods and the little girl agreed. It was there that he glimpsed through the dyed red cloth and saw the little girl for who she really was – the brightest soul he had even, dazzling in her light, lovely in her warmth.

The little girl saw in him a kindness the likes of which she had never seen, nor had she ever felt. She felt a presence there she couldn’t explain, a longing that didn’t make sense, a sense of déjà vu that terrified her. Yet she remained still.

In times of unease the wolf would lead the little girl to a patch of grass, circle it so that the blades of grass lie flattened and soft, so that she may rest soundly. In those times he would guard her from the forest until she was good to move again.

The Word ‘Girl’ (Musing Why I React To It So)

I don’t know what it is about the word ‘girl’ that ignites my senses.

I don’t mean it quite literally, for clarification, I mean it in terms of D/s or how I or my lady refers to her as.

This thought came to me last night. I had headed to bed – I’m a night owl because I can afford to be, she’s an early bird – and she happened to be awake so like any midnight times, we had a chat together. It’s how we roll. And we started talking about cards – as in, playing cards – and she said ‘oh I’m just a blackjack and roulette girl’

Now, see, that was just slang. Like if I were to say, ‘I’m a metal guy’ if someone enquired about my musical tastes. But the word ‘girl’ – right then and there – sparked something in my mind. Not arousal, something bigger than that. Something that put my Dominant senses on high alert. And I don’t really know why.

So why is it a trigger word? Maybe it’s because it’s used so often by us – when she talks as taught by me, when I address her myself. Maybe it’s because I identify as a Daddy.

MAYBE it’s something that triggers my Daddy side because, for whatever reason, due to my lack of children, there’s some paternal instinct out there, the very thing that drives me to put it out there that I’m happy to mentor someone if or when they trust me enough. I’m not sure, I’m no psychologist or scientist, I’m just guessing maybe my biological instincts comes into play somehow.

The word ‘girl’ is interesting in a D/s context in the way it has a life of its own, how it suddenly has subtext and can imply something particular to the individual. For me, I think of a teenager. Dyed hair, pink wooden Pyjamas, black band hoodie – all very specific right? But specific to me, to my lady.

‘Girl’ makes me think of a teenager unsure – about her future, about her own desires, about her own strength. This probably says more about my teenage years and the company I kept, for I have no doubt there were strong minds at my own highschool, just as I have no doubt my lady was as fierce, sharp, intelligent and determined then as she is now. And this I know too, as – keep in mind, we met all those years ago, years before life would bring us back together this way.

The word ‘girl’ doesn’t make me think of an individual needing help or nurture or security but at the same time, something compels me to be a Daddy all the same. Why, and for what purpose? I don’t know.

How I Knew I Was A Daddy Dominant

When talking about my feelings as someone who identifies as a Daddy, the one question that usually comes up first is – How did you know you were a Daddy-type?

I tell these people but I’ve told you guys and gals, probably time and time before, but the other day, it really hit me. Like, smacked-in-the-face-here’s-your-epiphany levels of realisation.

I felt I was a Daddy-type the evening I looked into the eyes of my kitten on a particularly anxious evening for her, her eyes wide and terrified. Looking at her, I knew in that moment, I felt in that moment this grand desire to wrap my arms around her and pull into our little created realm of security. And that I would fight for her own restoration of balance until I was exhausted – and then, even more.

I understood in that moment, you see. And looking back, I wonder just how this memory escaped me if it was so pivotal. Maybe in all the un-organised thoughts in my brain, it sat waiting to be processed. Maybe I forgot, not a strange occurrence with me. I have the unfortunate ability of forgetting birthdays, appointments and other moments.

Maybe I just felt it then, put it on a pedestal to place in my snow globe of memories, but forgot to file it under Relationship. I can’t say.

Acting and feeling as a Daddy has long been gestating within me. It was with me there roughly as a teen, when I was writing about and acting out Incest related fantasies and roleplay. It was there when I understood that the dynamic wasn’t simply about incest at all, it was about the way two souls engage and respond and react to one another. It was there when I reached out to my lady’s friends when I could sense their sadness, just to see if I could help, even though I knew it would potentially label me as weird or could cross unforeseen boundaries. It was even there when, in my travels as a twenty-something lad, I came across a teenager who tried flirting with me. I stopped her and talked to her and found out so much more – her home life was hectic, her future was troubling her. I happen to be there for the reaction to all this. And I wanted to shed light on this.

I guess it’s always been with me, developing with me and within me, maturing with me and even maturing ME. Like I’m the host and it’s this is some symbiotic relationship.

I’ve had strange thoughts at times. Fleeting thoughts. Through some strong bonds, I’ve come to regard friends as a sister or a brother. In rare cases, such as with my lady, I’ve felt the need to talk to her as a Dad, as she were my little girl.

I wonder if it’s a biological thing? I don’t have any children. We don’t plan to. So maybe this is nature’s way of stepping forth and making up for any absence of that role within me. I don’t know. I’m not sure.

To the man or woman wondering where they lie in the grand scheme of things, if they wonder if they feel themselves moving towards baby girl or Daddy, know this: Don’t feel shame. Don’t feel fear. There is nothing wrong with you, or your thoughts or your desires or your dreams or your fantasies. Don’t let the fear stop your own progress or education into what it means and certainly don’t give up. You’ve got what it takes.

If you need to talk, I’m an email away!

Avid Reader

He hovers above her,

His cock hard and pulsating,

As it skims the curves of her ass.

She lies nude beneath him,

On her tum,

Legs still,

Hands holding her favourite book

Open and ready.

As his cock traces her anus

Down to her slit

He whispers in her ear

Breath on her earlobe

‘Finish the chapter, sweetling’

Her breath comes

In quivering gasps

‘Yes, Daddy’

She whimpers.

My love for the ‘baby girls’

I love baby girls. I love little ones. Whatever definition you want to put to that adorable persona, I love that.

This one is hard to write because at the same time, there are an infinite number of submissives that are beautiful people and equally as intoxicating. But I guess, It seems to me – in my never ending quest to ‘find myself’ – that the submissive that I am drawn to is the little girl persona. Or maybe it’s just my mindset in this particular moment, I’m unsure.
Remember how I said I had an overwhelming need to help people in this field and more? Kind of like a BDSM therapist, to risk sounding conceited? Well the Daddy Dom in me gets that way at times – where I crave that persona – the girl to tuck into bed, read Alice in wonderland to and buy colouring books for. And if she eats all her vegetables, she will get a reward – my cock hovering over her tits as I praise her magnificent body.

It goes beyond sexuality and persona though. I am interested in her identity. Who is she? Where has she come from? Seeds have been planted for her to grow into something so sweet and I want to understand her. To me, that’s a big part of why I write as well on this site. It just makes me sit back and wonder and write long sprawling entries like these.

But, ugh, just look at the photo I have put in this entry. A topless girl with her favourite teddy, in her own skin and smiling. Gorgeous. I love it.

So I guess the concept sings to me because there’s a Dad in me that comes out every so often. And that is beautiful to me. 

The Daddy Dom in Me


Here’s the misconception about the Daddy Dom/Little Girl Dynamic: It’s incestuous. The word ‘incestuous’ conjures up many thoughts – pedophilia, incest, what exactly do these people act out?

Those people are going the wrong way about thinking of it. It’s nothing of that. We aren’t saying pedophilia is something to be acted out in role-play, we aren’t saying we would jump into an incestuous relationship, though some would choose to explore said power and darkness through roleplaying.

My understanding about the dynamic is that two people – a Dominant and a submissive – come together to form something else entirely, something beautiful. A Dom is a Daddy Dom if he/she simply has the ability to take on that role in the D/s relationship – the nurturing teacher role. And that’s just the tip of the iceberg there.

The submissive may have childlike tendencies. This may manifest in their behaviours and in some cases, in their speech patterns. Some Doms and submissive’s may be living the DD/lg dynamic without even releasing they are who they are.

And this is where I come in. For when I noticed I was tucking my submissive in of a night and kissing her forehead and stroking her head as she clutches her stuffed toy – it hit me. Something in us has that DD/lg dynamic.

When I noticed that my behaviour simply went beyond being the typical caring person to a nurturing ‘father’ almost and when she expressed how indescribably amazing it was for me to tuck her in, it just clicked that we had that dynamic running in our D/s relationship.

There’s layers upon layers to each of us, if you haven’t realised. Layers upon layers to our psyche and what comes out when we connect with our partner’s true self. The Daddy Dom comes out in me at the strangest times, usually when either my pet or I are at our most vulnerable. ESPECIALLY when she has had a rough day, I want nothing more to comfort her and even go to the point where I will read to her one of my favourite books.

This dynamic can go on to a submissive’s speech pattern. She may fully inhabit the child within and the Daddy Dom may relish this part of her. They may have layers to this role that they can safely explore.

So if you are thinking about this topic and you think it sounds weird or creepy, you’re looking at this all the wrong way. It’s rather beautiful – but I understand that it hits close to home for some people, that it stirs something in them and makes them uncomfortable. You’re still looking at it the wrong way and I would gladly discuss it further until you could at least see what it is really about – but I digress.

So do we inhabit this DD/lg dynamic now? It fluctuates and I think that’s beautiful. We have our D/s relationship and then this animalistic or deep down behaviour comes out organically and without warning. It’s beautiful.