A Year Later
Happy Anniversary!!
Today is our one year anniversary. We've been doing this for a year now and our ideas are shifting everyday. He doesn't want me to be completely honest here, but fuck it, no one knows about this place.
We've found a different way to do things. We actually sort of cemented it just the other day. I was always very wary of the whole ageplay relationship, for obvious reasons. I am not comfortable with the common perceptions of pedophilia that accompany it. I don't want anyone to be confused about my relationship with my father, which was very loving and normal. I am not trying to relive anything that way. It confuses issues of strength and independence and feminism. It makes me dependent and vulnerable.
However, I also can't help liking the way it feels when he treats me like his little girl; I like the way he talks to me, I like his mannerisms and system of relating. He is kind and nurturing, sort of soft and protective. It makes me feel loved, secure. He is able to negotiate boundaries more effectively, more efficiently. I know how much easier it is to be obedient when I have to say, "Yes, Daddy" or "Thank you, Daddy." I know how my attitude softens and I feel more open and vulnerable, which is both terrifying and liberating.
I've struggled with all of the guilt that exists culturally, individually, but in the end, that is all on other people. I keep my own to my own, and don't allow it to be judged by anyone else, and I get to be happy. And I am so happy.
Don't get me wrong. There is a huge part of me that has no desire to be told what to do, to concede and shut my mouth when I know I'm right (grin), to be talked down to like a child, to have fewer freedoms and privileges, to have to earn others' intrinsic rights. I am a stubborn and yes, often arrogant, girl. I do think I know better. I do think I generally have the moral, intellectual, and political high ground. I will use condescending tones. I will over-explain and over-simplify. I will make you feel like an idiot and a jackass when I can.
And I will get a certain smug satisfaction from it.
It has always been in me to need to be taken down. And not simply a peg or two, but grabbed by the hair, yanked to the floor and stepped on. In the past, Johnny has done this in ways that leave us both feeling worse for wear. I'm not easy, I know. I know I have a "tone" and I know I am used to getting my way, tricking it from someone else. He is a good authority for me purely in his stubborn refusal to allow it, whether or not it spites his face, so to speak.
He wants to win.
In the past, his methods of achieving a win have been emotionally wrecking at times--too big, too loud. I have needed to shut off and walk away. He has needed the same. It was rocky, is rocky. But through it all, I still have needed him, have needed one person in my life to be in a little less awe of me. (See the arrogance? I know. I can't help being incredible, can I? Grin.)
I feel better when he says no. Yesterday, before I went to sleep, we were joking around and I told him to piss off. For once it was not a test, just something that slipped out. I didn't even notice it until he said something along the lines of, "Baby! Don't talk to me like that. That's very rude."
That irked me. That voice and that scolding always irks me. I may have grunted a response at first. It wasn't a big deal. I didn't see it as a problem. He continued to say that that sort of language was not acceptable. I had a big issue with that. To me, "piss" is not a bad word. Sure, if I had said fuck off, that would be one thing, but piss off? Really?
I argued this point. He did not agree. Part of me was aware of the fact that it didn't matter what I thought. If he says no, then the answer is no. I was grumpy about it, but I didn't like where it was heading. and though I didn't whole-heartedly mean it, I apologized. Twice.
He told me that it wasn't okay and that I was going to have to have a time out facing a wall. I told him the house didn't have walls (this made me laugh anyways). He told me to get on my knees beside my bed with my hands on my head. I told him that I said I was sorry, but he didn't change his mind. It was very late and I was very tired, and it was dark and I just wanted to stay in bed, but I had to get up and have a timeout in my room for five of the longest minutes ever.
When it was over, he asked me, "What do you say?" I thought this would irritate me more than the earlier scolding, but really, it didn't. I could have been more compliant so he didn't have to remind me to say it properly, but it was late late, and I was cranky a little.
But I wanted to pull my blanket up over me and sleep next to him, feel his hands on my back and in my hair when he told me that I have to be a good girl and talk to him with respect and never say mean things to him. I wanted to feel him breathing, warm and steady against me as I said, "Yes, Daddy. Yes, Daddy." And then I wanted to feel him give me kisses and sing to me before I fell asleep. So, when he told me to do something a few minutes later, it was much easier for me to obey. Not easy, but easier.
It's just an aspect, this whole thing. It's just part of how he makes me feel submissive and owned and obligated to him. It's taken a whole year to get here, and I'm not sure how I feel about here, except that it's my secretest space. It's hidden from everyone else in the world and it's all his. And I love him, and I love him for that.
Happy Anniversary, Daddy.
Today is our one year anniversary. We've been doing this for a year now and our ideas are shifting everyday. He doesn't want me to be completely honest here, but fuck it, no one knows about this place.
We've found a different way to do things. We actually sort of cemented it just the other day. I was always very wary of the whole ageplay relationship, for obvious reasons. I am not comfortable with the common perceptions of pedophilia that accompany it. I don't want anyone to be confused about my relationship with my father, which was very loving and normal. I am not trying to relive anything that way. It confuses issues of strength and independence and feminism. It makes me dependent and vulnerable.
However, I also can't help liking the way it feels when he treats me like his little girl; I like the way he talks to me, I like his mannerisms and system of relating. He is kind and nurturing, sort of soft and protective. It makes me feel loved, secure. He is able to negotiate boundaries more effectively, more efficiently. I know how much easier it is to be obedient when I have to say, "Yes, Daddy" or "Thank you, Daddy." I know how my attitude softens and I feel more open and vulnerable, which is both terrifying and liberating.
I've struggled with all of the guilt that exists culturally, individually, but in the end, that is all on other people. I keep my own to my own, and don't allow it to be judged by anyone else, and I get to be happy. And I am so happy.
Don't get me wrong. There is a huge part of me that has no desire to be told what to do, to concede and shut my mouth when I know I'm right (grin), to be talked down to like a child, to have fewer freedoms and privileges, to have to earn others' intrinsic rights. I am a stubborn and yes, often arrogant, girl. I do think I know better. I do think I generally have the moral, intellectual, and political high ground. I will use condescending tones. I will over-explain and over-simplify. I will make you feel like an idiot and a jackass when I can.
And I will get a certain smug satisfaction from it.
It has always been in me to need to be taken down. And not simply a peg or two, but grabbed by the hair, yanked to the floor and stepped on. In the past, Johnny has done this in ways that leave us both feeling worse for wear. I'm not easy, I know. I know I have a "tone" and I know I am used to getting my way, tricking it from someone else. He is a good authority for me purely in his stubborn refusal to allow it, whether or not it spites his face, so to speak.
He wants to win.
In the past, his methods of achieving a win have been emotionally wrecking at times--too big, too loud. I have needed to shut off and walk away. He has needed the same. It was rocky, is rocky. But through it all, I still have needed him, have needed one person in my life to be in a little less awe of me. (See the arrogance? I know. I can't help being incredible, can I? Grin.)
I feel better when he says no. Yesterday, before I went to sleep, we were joking around and I told him to piss off. For once it was not a test, just something that slipped out. I didn't even notice it until he said something along the lines of, "Baby! Don't talk to me like that. That's very rude."
That irked me. That voice and that scolding always irks me. I may have grunted a response at first. It wasn't a big deal. I didn't see it as a problem. He continued to say that that sort of language was not acceptable. I had a big issue with that. To me, "piss" is not a bad word. Sure, if I had said fuck off, that would be one thing, but piss off? Really?
I argued this point. He did not agree. Part of me was aware of the fact that it didn't matter what I thought. If he says no, then the answer is no. I was grumpy about it, but I didn't like where it was heading. and though I didn't whole-heartedly mean it, I apologized. Twice.
He told me that it wasn't okay and that I was going to have to have a time out facing a wall. I told him the house didn't have walls (this made me laugh anyways). He told me to get on my knees beside my bed with my hands on my head. I told him that I said I was sorry, but he didn't change his mind. It was very late and I was very tired, and it was dark and I just wanted to stay in bed, but I had to get up and have a timeout in my room for five of the longest minutes ever.
When it was over, he asked me, "What do you say?" I thought this would irritate me more than the earlier scolding, but really, it didn't. I could have been more compliant so he didn't have to remind me to say it properly, but it was late late, and I was cranky a little.
But I wanted to pull my blanket up over me and sleep next to him, feel his hands on my back and in my hair when he told me that I have to be a good girl and talk to him with respect and never say mean things to him. I wanted to feel him breathing, warm and steady against me as I said, "Yes, Daddy. Yes, Daddy." And then I wanted to feel him give me kisses and sing to me before I fell asleep. So, when he told me to do something a few minutes later, it was much easier for me to obey. Not easy, but easier.
It's just an aspect, this whole thing. It's just part of how he makes me feel submissive and owned and obligated to him. It's taken a whole year to get here, and I'm not sure how I feel about here, except that it's my secretest space. It's hidden from everyone else in the world and it's all his. And I love him, and I love him for that.
Happy Anniversary, Daddy.
posted by macaroon at 6:52 PM
1 comments
