I am his babygirl.
It is a title that I wear proudly, yet it is one that is not at all understood by most. Shit I don’t understand it sometimes.
The title of babygirl in the BDSM world is so varied and it is used in so many cases, that my description as his babygirl would invoke a variety of responses from a variety of people, who do not understand. In some cases they do not wish to understand.
As big as I am, as accomplished as I am, as tough as I am, there is always a little girl within me. Her development arrested by abuse, by rape, by abandonment. She stopped growing because it was just too painful, while the rest of me moved along.
I grew, I aged, but she remained innocent (kind of) and she waited for the man that would be the daddy to her she’d waited for. She like so many others loved her father more than anything else in the world. The connection between a girl and her father is not something that can be replicated, even if so many of us attempt to replace it over the years.
I think that most of us would not admit it, but it in part comes from a natural attraction to the opposite sex. The need to continue the species is real, and it connects men and women in ways that are cellular. Fathers look at their daughters and want to protect them from little boys that were like they were once upon a time. Daughters see that love and protection and reverence from their fathers and the cycle continues.
It is no wonder that in my adult life, after having figuratively lost my father, I would search for a Daddy.
I do not actively engage in littles play. There are many that enjoy it, and I enjoy doing it for Him when he requests, but I would not actively call myself a little. Yet I can admit and embrace the 10 year old that exists within me, and allow her to play when Daddy is around.
I’ve said over and over just how “right” my connection with The Man is, and with all that is happening right now, I still know that this amount of right is something that few people reach in their lifetime. The Man allows all of me to exist, even that 10 year old girl, who I’d left behind since she could no longer move forward.
She is a little girl in the truest sense of the word, awkward, expectant, loving, trusting, curious. At the edge of childhood, yet not quite an adolescent, she exists in a place that I don’t allow people to go, with the exception of Him.
She still loves her coloring books, and she is not yet a sexual creature, even if she has been exposed to sex. She is not quite innocent, but she is far far away from being sophisticated. She is a little girl.
Allowing her to live and love as she does is a wonderful thing. It is pure, it is without consequence, it is without condition. She is one of the best parts of me. She is also the most vulnerable part of me, and that is what makes her so exceptional.
The Man is one of the smallest men I’ve been with physically. He’s only 6′, he is not as muscular as men from my past. Yet, at the same time he is the biggest man I’ve ever known. He protects his woman – me and his little girl – also me. He allows the little girl to exist in the same space as the woman. He allows me to be complete, which is not a simple task.
Although he’s raised no biological children of his own, he nurtures, he protects, he loves as if I were hid daughter, while at the same time nurtures, protects and loves the adult me as well. When I call Him Daddy, I do not think of him as my father, yet I do. Our interactions a kaleidoscopic mix of all that we are, from our phone conversations, to our sex life.
I look to him for his wisdom as a child would her father.
I look to him for his approval as a daughter would a father.
I look to him for his love as a daughter would a father.
In return he gives me the balance that I need to soar like an eagle.
He makes the little girl in me jump and giggle with glee, as he gifts.
He makes the little girl in me feel like it is her first kiss every time his lips touch my own.
He makes the little girl in me go out of her way to please him, in every way possible, from good grades in school, to dressing just right for an event. To even the most intimate of our acts, the most passionate of our sex, not like a father and daughter, yet we still are.
My very adult body, that has done things to make Heather Hunter blush, is still too small to accommodate him, and the things he does to me are beyond my experience level in a manner that makes me feel even smaller.
Like a father with a daughter, I am his princess, his most beautiful creation. He beams with pride at every accomplishment, and although I am a mother he cares for me in the manner a parent would.
Baby girl is not just a term of endearment, it is something that describes me very well.
Little girl is not just a state of mind, it is a way of living.
I may not have given much clarification in the past 1000 words, so I will simply end with
Thank heaven for little girls…..and the daddys that choose them.