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!

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.