A woman owned

I am a woman, born in 1960, three years before Betty Friedman penned The Feminine Mystique. This was the dawn of a movement of women away from traditional roles, inspired by the civil rights movement, and further fueled by Ms. Friedman and her contemporaries formation of NOW in 1968.





I am a woman born of a woman who seduced, used and abused the people around her. One who had a chain of men all of whom served her and were debased by her, who came away from her less than when they came to her.

I am a woman with the heart of a little girl. I am a woman who emerged from my past with a delicate grace and fragile wings. I am a woman who through some random act of cosmic kindness found a man who fills me, who loves me for who I am, exactly as I am and supports me on the breath of his love, letting me soar for the first time in my life. I am a woman who treasures her family above all else. I am a woman who finds my happiness in being shelter, peace and comfort for the ones I love. 

I am a woman who needs a strong man, one who can lead, and on whom I can depend. I am a woman who enjoys the feeling of his control. I am a woman who thrives expressing my submission in my response to his, "This is what I want you to do..." I am a woman who loves the feel of his hand in my hair, pulling my face to his, that look, that voice, low and sweet, "Who do you belong to, little girl?" I am a woman who enjoys the 'good girl' when I yield to him.

I am a woman who enjoys feeling my place, across his lap, his hands on my body, warm caressing strokes, squeezes, stinging spanks and exquisite pleasure that send me to lovely, floaty places that only he can bring me to, and hearing his voice, "Do you feel owned, little one?" And the sigh that floats in my head, like dandelion puffs, and I wonder if the words ever get formed, "Yes, Daddy, I'm yours." But somehow he knows, and he smiles, and the warmth radiates from his 'good girl, mine' through his hands and wraps me like a blanket as I'm pulled into his arms.

I am a woman out of time.

I am a woman deliriously happy.

I am a woman in love.

I am a woman owned.

(the photos in this post are reblogged from Dominant.tumblr.com, blushredtail.tumblr.com and breathingwhispers.tumblr.com)


HIS POV:  The lovely Ms. June strikes at the heart of what is real and vibrant. The gift of your unquestioning devotion.  From the way the light catches your form in the middle of the day to the way your body moves in time to the cadence of our love, I am a blessed man to know you, to share a life with you, that is gift beyond anything I have received and I wear the mantle of "Daddy" as a crown with you beside me as my queen. I love you deep and I speak to the beauty in that woman that I call mine.

Being Daddy's little girl

So we know how Ward became Daddy. He said when he came back he wanted post about his experience of being Daddy, and we in fact talked about that the other evening. This is about what it feels like being little, what it feels like being his little girl.

He is my everything. He is every prayer I ever uttered answered, and every dream I never dared. He is my best friend. He is my leader. He is my man. He is my hero. He is my lover. He is my guide. He is my heart. He is m'anumchara. He is my King. He is every good thing that ever is or will be in one word - Daddy.

I've spoken briefly here and there about us having a D/lg dynamic in our mix. And we've established that we are not age-play. When we are intimate, I am not a little girl. I am all woman (just ask Ward, lol). I don't dress in frilly clothes, there are no hair bows, pacifiers, diapers. When Daddy spanks, he spanks his partner, not an errant child, though my childlike side often reacts if I feel I have wronged him, or been less than I want to be for him. It is not something we step into and step out of for play or for short periods of time.

Those are a bunch of things it's not. So what is it? It is who we are every moment of every day. It's loving sparkly, shiny, jingly things, and having Daddy indulge that, admiring the things that catch my eye. It's his being tickled when I am distractable. It's enjoying blowing bubbles and water gun fights and tickle fights. It's about never hearing "Oh, grow up!"





It's about sharing the joy of those simple things. It's giggling with abandon, and his chuckle further fueling my giggle. It's eating with your fingers and feeding Daddy with your fingers, and him licking you clean. It's being scared or sad and having arms wrapped around you and never hearing, "You're being ridiculous", but hearing, "It's all right, darling, Daddy's here." It's about Daddy listening to your broken heart and fixing the things that are wrong.



It's about being me, perfectly imperfect just me, and being loved unconditionally. It's about Daddy looking into my heart and showing me how beautiful I am, over and over again, even when I resist that idea. It's about him showing me that even when I make a mistake, I am loved, and I am good, just my actions are sometimes in error.






It is the freedom to be exactly who I am, never holding back any small part of myself, completely laid bare, completely vulnerable and unvarnished before him, and being protected and treasured and safe.

For my Daddy, for my love (Poetry)

When the world

is chaffing hard and cold,

I will yield

to your wisdom, will and touch

When you feel

used and objectified

my love and respect

will blanket you

When you are empty

my heart will fill you

from the fountain that

flows within it for you

When you are weary

I will minister to you
hands kneading the ache
from your body,
our bodies transporting us
on the waves of energy
that we create

I will be your
little girl
when you need
to be silly and free

I will be
your woman
when you need
my maturity

I will bend
to your desires and will
without breaking
and give my
strength and flexibility
to fortify us

I love you.

~June~ 3-09-12

How Ward became Daddy

Ward and I had been talking for several months. It was after the deployment I spoke of in the last post. And honestly we were still 'friends' (who talked several hours every day...yeah, yeah, I'm a lil slow) and before we were Ward and June.

We had actually talked about littles. A friend had told me that I had a little, that she saw it. And I immediately rejected that concept. To me that was like a mark of mental illness, I immediately thought DID (dissociative identity disorder). Ward and I talked about it, and he assured me that he didn't see anything alarming in who I was, and did see some childlike qualities. I talked to my therapist about it, and called it my little piece of arrested development. She said she thought it was just a very vulnerable piece of me that I had never trusted anyone with. Well that felt better.

I had talked to Ward about it and he said that seemed a logical conclusion, especially in light of my childhood. So I started researching littles. And It seemed at first that it was all about ageplay and incest play, and that was a big no-no with my childhood. Ward and I talked about that, too. He agreed that he was not interested in ageplay. And it just kind of settled. I still researched, like I do with many things I need to understand. But neither of us considered it a factor in our .... friendship.

One night, we were talking and I had had a particularly stressful day, and he said something very comforting and Ward-like. And I started crying. Ward said, "If I were with you right now, this is where I would take you in my arms, kiss away your tears, calm your heart, tuck you into bed and tell you a fairy tale, especially for you." And even though  he was not there in that exact moment, I felt cradled, and comforted, and I said, without a thought, "Kinda story, Daddy? With princesses and magick?" And he said, "Yes, love, with a very special little princess, and magick and faeries. Hush now and listen."

And he wove me the most wondrous story, off the top of his head, that lulled me, soothed me and gave me the most delicious brain tickles. It wasn't strange, and it wasn't icky, and it felt extraordinarily good. It was organic, and kind of symbolic of our relationship, very amoebic, we stretch to encompass, consume and satisfy the needs of the other.

He says that I awoke a part of him that he thought was gone forever. And with him I can be that which I have never been able to be, small, vulnerable, trusting and unbetrayed and totally genuine.

And now I'm crying.... I love you, Daddy, and I miss you so.

Examining Submission Journaling Exercise - Day 15

Has your submission evolved over time? If so, how has it evolved for you and if not (or if you are just starting out) how might you see or imagine it evolving in the future?

We went from just D/s to the level of trust that allowed him to become Daddy, my absolute authority. I know I've said it before, we're not age-play. And that is hard to explain. For us it is an outward expression of the absolute devotion, care, respect,and trust that exists between us. It lets us interact at times on a more innocent, playful, magical level, seeing wonder in glitter, and rainstorms, and leaves and snowball fights. There are no bottles, diapers, frilly dresses, or pacifiers. There is no sexually intimate activity when we are in that space. There are lots of hugs, cuddles, squeezes, kisses and - YUM - forehead  kisses - sigh.

Then more or less as an extension of that trust it evolved from simple submission to total surrender. I trust him with my life, my mind, my heart, my body and soul. There is not a single thing I would refuse, because he fills me and lifts me up. He sees me as good, and he makes it so that I can begin to see myself in the same way.

I don't know how it could change. I perceive it as complete. I can see it becoming richer. I can see our connection deepening.

How many of us?

This may trigger some readers, please be aware before reading. 

This is something that I have been wondering for a long time. I've talked to some friends about the experience. Daddy knows, of course, Daddy knows everything. Without outing anyone who is not ready, my very good friend Monster's Nightmare talks about her experience on her blog. My new friend faerie talks about hers on her blog. Faerie says she is tired of keeping the secret, and it made me think maybe I am, too. And I wonder how many of us have been broken...

My father was largely absent from my life. He technically lived in the house, in the spare room where his wife had relegated him, until she required his services. He worked three or four jobs, all the time, because she spent money like water. I learned as I grew that it was a relief, likely, to have the reason to be away from her. She slept with a loaded Winchester under her bed and took pleasure in threatening him with it at regular intervals, that someday she'd come in when he was asleep and blow him away.

'She' is the woman who gave birth to me. She is not my mother, mothers don't do the things she did. She was an unwilling womb-donor. My mother is the woman my father married when I was 16. She taught me what is was to be a mother as I observed her with my brother and sister. She gave me some kind of foundation for how to treat my children. I am grateful for her presence in my life. I would have been lost without her....literally. She welcomed me out of a black hole and into her home when I was 16 - right before she married my father - how great a sacrifice is that?

The womb donor was schizophrenic. She was an alcoholic. She was addicted to street and prescription drugs. She was abusive in every way possible. Once, curious about a Christmas present she threatened me until I told her what she was to receive, then beat me into the corner for spoiling the surprise. It was our secret, though & when she opened it and acted surprised, she gave me a conspiratorial wink. Things like that were commonplace. She would take the money my father would give her for bills and food and go away for the weekend with her men - another secret, wink-wink. She would wake me at 2 or 3AM, and I would be made to bring her dresser drawers down one at a time, stand behind them while she directed me how to clean & straighten them, and told me I was a worthless pig, a whore, a slut ...words I had no concept of their meaning, and which still bring violent reactions to me to this day. Hour after hour, drawer after drawer, hurtful word after hurtful word.

She was very promiscuous. There was an endless parade of men in and out of our house. My father was never there, his main job was shift-work, made it easy for her. Some of her men friends liked little girls. She made me available to them. My first clear memory was at age 5. It stopped about 12 or 13. Sometimes she would leave me alone with them. Sometimes she was there, holding me down, telling me this is what the big girls do, and I wanted to be a big girl, didn't I? I learned how to dissociate just to be numb, to not have to experience things, and to be able to save myself from worse, reaction meant it got worse- never show them how much it hurts.

She broke me. I disliked touch and intimacy - they are still hard for me. I didn't - still don't - trust easily. I am a big researcher. When I started exploring I learned that my submissive nature could have been nurtured by my childhood, and my need to be pleasing, loved and accepted. I've tried to understand why I need the things in my life that I do having come from that.

The Daddy part - heck that's easy - he is reparenting that part of me. I am free to be that which I never was before, sweet, small, innocent, and treasured. I am free to see and experience my sense of delight and wonder in the world, and someone is delighted by it.  I am free to trust, and know that my trust will not be broken. I am free to enjoy touch, with love. Thank you, Daddy, I love you with my all, your love is unconditional and that is my miracle. YOU are my miracle, and I am forever grateful for you.

The DD part, that's a little harder. This is what I figure - my world was inconsistent. There was no sure footing. Things were variable. With DD, there is surety. There is structure. There are rules which do not change. They are enforced with consistency and love.

There is another part of it - why do I crave spanking when I am stressed, when I am hurt, when I need to feel my place. Again, this is what I believe... I learned to shut off my emotions to save myself. But that doesn't mean that behind my placid face I was not screaming. I can take any physical pain you can give to me. I crumble under emotional pain. Spanking takes that emotional pain, transfers it to my flesh and it disappears - it is a purge.

I wonder all the time, and I see stories like Monster's Nightmare's and faerie's that mirror my own, and I wonder just how many of us have suffered like this. I wonder how many of us have found the love and acceptance that we crave in this lifestyle. And I wonder if that is why we are so tolerant of the variances in experience, and expression - because we sense that kinship.

The Prince and His Princess (Poetry)

Every little girl

Dreams of her very own

Prince Charming

The one

That will sweep her off her feet

The one

Who will slay all the dragons

The one

Who will keep her safe

The one

Who will bid the sun to rise

Just for her

The one

Who will bring the moon and the stars

On a rope, place them in a bottle

And place them around her neck.

Every young lady

Sees those dreams dissolve

There is no one

Who possesses such a noble spirit

There is no one

Who is as unselfish

There is no one

Who is as strong and courageous

In this ordinary world

Some very lucky women

Receive a gift from the Creator

Some walk out of the heavens

Mine walked out of the sea

My Prince,

The one

Who takes my very breath away

The one

Who holds my beating heart

In his very hands

The one

Who would lay down his life for me

The one

I would die for

My Prince

My valorous one

Slays more dragons than mine

And he has a call

To protect a greater kingdom

Than the one we inhabit

He must leave me

For a time

I wish

Like a fairy tale princess

That I could be cast

Under a spell

That would let me sleep

Until my Prince returned

And with a gentle touch

And a soft kiss

Breathe life

Into my waiting heart, again.

4-11-12

Affirmations

I had a really bad day yesterday. It started off okay. Then I read something that took me back to a very bad place in my life, to the place I talked about in a previous post about abuse. I was full out little, totally regressed to my 6-year-old self. And a really strange thing happened - the thing I read made me afraid of someone - a friend's Daddy, and I didn't know why. I didn't really understand what I was feeling, I just knew I was feeling it.

Then came that magic time of the day, and talking to Daddy. Daddy is seamless, he saw little me, and he went full out Daddy. He asked why I was afraid of my friend's Daddy. I said I didn't know, but what if he didn't like me and then didn't want my friend to be my friend any more, cause I was bad or weird or _____ (fill in the blank). Daddy said, anyone who knows me knows I am a good girl. Any one who knows me knows I am a respectful girl. And that is why I am his girl. Yup....he made it all better.


I talked to another "little" friend this morning and told her some of the lovely things Daddy had said. And I told her I had actually cried over the things that had happened so long ago - I never had cried about them before. And I guess that was because for the first time I felt safe. For the first time I knew someone would catch me when I fell....because surely I would fall. She said she was jealous of the affirmations Daddy gives me. So I asked  if she could tell her Daddy that that was important to her. And she thought that was something she could try to do.

 
Then I thought a few moments, and sent another text. I told her not to forget that Daddies (Tops/Doms/Masters) need affirmations, too. I tell Daddy all the time, how important he is to me, how much I love him, that he is my hero. I tell him how he helps me. I thank him....for everything...he does so much for me. When he knows things are important to me, he goes out of his way to do them. It delights me, I thank him.






I think he is devastatingly handsome. Sometimes I'll see a picture and smile and my heart will flutter. I'll send him a text to tell him, "Dang, Daddy, just caught a glimpse of a picture and got the vapors!" One of my personal fears is not being enough. Sometimes Daddy worries that he can't give me all the things he thinks I need. So I tell him, all I need is him. He is home. Doesn't matter if we're in a cardboard box, a trailer or a nice modest house (don't need a mansion....too much to clean), if he is there it is perfect.

 

All I need is someone to walk in the door and smile and have 'home' show on their face just because I'm there. Or wrap their arms around me while I cook, or do laundry, or garden. I need someone whose voice will be full of delight, simply because they are talking to me. I need someone who will sit on the floor and play a game or watch a movie with me and the boys. I need someone who loves us, just because. He smiled and said then I'll just keep doing that, I'll just keep showing you. And I smiled and said that's all that I need.

We have to remember, no matter what role our partner fulfills, they are human. They need, too. They need to be filled and feel appreciated. They need to know how very important their presence in our lives is. Just because he is a dominant doesn't mean he is bottomless. Lots of times they experience  things in their day that they try to shield us from. They need those soft, sweet words and gentle touches as much as we do. We have to keep the energy flowing, if we don't we stagnate.

So the next time you look at your partner and feel that flutter, or your breath catches in your throat, or your blood rushes, or you sadness or anxiety disappears, the next time he touches you and you bite your lip, and get goosebumps, tell him, and thank him for being there.

Daddy

 So I thought I would talk a little bit about my Daddy, and what he means...what having a Daddy means. It's not the same for everyone. We're all unique. All opinions expressed are mine alone, your mileage may vary. This is our flavor, our particular exquisite shade of gray.




You've seen me say that Daddy and I are non-ageplay. I have a feeling that for a lot of people, they just assume that when you are in a D/lg relationship it is all about ageplay/incest play. For some it is. For some the taboo is the turn on. Not me...I was repeatedly sexually abused from about the age of 5 to 13. I have no desire to revisit those times.

I don't condemn anyone who enjoys ageplay. I don't condemn anyone. There are plenty of people that are ready and willing to condemn me for many things...I submit, I allow someone to dominate me, I allow someone to hit me. I understand that in this world we are all served by different things. What serves me might not serve you, what serves you might not serve me.... shades of gray.

I have
always said for once, just once, I want to be precious to someone. I want to be the one who brings the sun. I want to be able to see things with unvarnished eyes and share them with someone who takes joy in the seeing. I believe in magic, you see. I see wonder in the world. Sunshine, rainbows, the wind sloughing through the trees, thunder, lightening, the roar of the ocean, seagulls circling catching what you toss midair, sparrows sitting on your hand, dragonflies landing on your hand, butterflies lighting on your shoulder, fireflies lighting the night, Christmas lights - magic, not mundane.

That's what Daddy is. Daddy is the one who listens, who shares the magic, who reflects it back. I can be exactly who I am with Daddy. I can experience unbridled joy, and he laughs with me. I can cry, and he dries my tears, holds me till it doesn't hurt anymore. I can have a fit (yes I can!) and calmly and gently (relatively speaking) be shown a better way to express myself. He protects me from all the bad things - sometimes from myself, helps me with the hard things, always supports me, always keeps me from falling too far.

Daddy is guide, nurturer, comfort, teacher, best friend, cheerleader. Daddy is the best thing that has ever happened to this girl. Sometimes I am afraid that I dreamt him, he is that good, and that perfect for me, and that I will wake and find that he was all in my mind. Maybe my friend, MonstrsNightmare can weigh in, but I think Daddy is about level of trust. Daddy is trustworthy, he is the one who will never let me down.

I'm not always 6-years-old. But when I am, I can be, and be seen as endearing, well-loved, cute, funny. I can bring him joy. My God, that is the most awesome, amazing thing in the world! And for the first time in my life, I am precious.

 

WELCOME!

Who we are is a little complicated to explain. We are a D/s couple, with a non-ageplay Daddy/little girl dynamic, in a male-led 1950s household, which employs DD. Wow! What a mouthful! Most of you reading will be familiar with the terms, but if you're not, just ask. We don't bite......well, not much anyway!

I like finding community with like-minded people. Daddy also says that there are not many resources for men, and he'd like to have somewhere they can come for communion as well. But I'll let him tell you more about that.

What we believe:
We believe that communication and mutual respect are the foundation of any healthy relationship. We believe in supporting your partner and being their biggest cheerleader. We believe in unconditional love. We believe that female submission and male leadership lead to increased intimacy. We are spiritual, though not necessarily religious, so while we don't view male-led relationships as biblically mandated, we don't dispute that. We do believe that male-led relationships are the natural order of things.

What you will find here:
We don't exactly have an agenda. We just want to share things we find and learn, and perhaps discuss our journey. We also want to develop a community and learn from others. We hope to foster intelligent discussion and expand everyone's horizons.

Please be aware that this will be a kink-friendly blog, as they said in Poltergeist "All are welcome, all are welcome!" Please keep in mind that there is no black and white, there are however many beautiful shades of gray which give our world beauty, definition and depth. We acknowledge that no single dynamic works for all people. We ask that you be tolerant of other individual's dynamics. Flaming and hate-speech will not be tolerated. Please be respectful of each other.

What you won't find here:
While they will not be prohibited among followers or in the comments, there will be no discussion from Daddy or myself about intimate matters, to include discipline and correction. We both believe that there are things in each relationship that are not meant to be shared.

So now you know who we are and what this little blog is all about. We hope you enjoy visiting and come back often!