honorifics

Intimate Intercourse: #DaddyDomLyfe (Part 2)

Kate Sloan

Hi again! Welcome back to Intimate Intercourse, a series where I interview my boyfriend/Sir/daddy, who goes by Super Sleepy Dude, about various topics related to sex and kink. This week we’re discussing Daddy Dom/little girl kink! This is part 2 of a 3-part interview; you can read part 1 here. In this instalment, we discuss protocol, lifestyle domming, negotiating DD/lg exclusivity in polyamory, and kinky headspaces. Enjoy! Content warning for this post: ageplay, mentions of food and fatphobia.

Kate Sloan: Okay. This is kind of veering away from talking about identity, but – I feel like part of how our DD/lg dynamic manifests in the real world for us is you ordering stuff for me at restaurants, and picking my outfits for me sometimes, and helping me with my productivity, and helping me remember to take my iron pill every day, and stuff like that, that’s like, life maintenance stuff – which, I always kinda thought I wouldn’t be able to find someone who was into doing that stuff for me, ‘cause to me, that sounds stressful, to have to manage that stuff for someone else.

Super Sleepy: Yeah, I think, to a lot of people, that sounds stressful, because it’s a lot of responsibility, and if you fuck up, you’re not just fucking up sex or kink; you’re fucking up, potentially, someone’s life. And also, to other people, it just sounds boring. It’s neither of those things to me. It’s not stressful, because the protocols are set up in a way where we can both be successful at them; that’s how we constructed the relationship and the protocols. And it’s not boring, because seeing my little girl succeed and shine and grow is one of the most satisfying things. So yeah, that is definitely a big part of how our DD/lg stuff works. And I think it could work outside of that context – like, if we were just in a different type of D/s dynamic, we could still do all that stuff – but it feels even more like I am nurturing you because it is within that context.

KS: [giggling] Yeah. So, I think when we had been dating for like a month and a half – maybe not even that long – we had a conversation about DD/lg exclusivity.

SS: Ooh, yeah. Mhm.

KS: We decided I wasn’t gonna have any other daddies and you weren’t gonna have any other little girls. That came up ‘cause you were listening to an old podcast of mine.

SS: Yeah. I think I was on a plane, and I was listening to a Dildorks episode where you kind of casually mentioned that you had talked about that with another partner, and I wanted to ask you whether you had thought about that with us.

KS: And I had, but I had not been brave enough to bring it up.

SS: [growly voice] Secrets!!

KS: Well, we’d only been dating for like a month and a half!

SS: [laughing] I know. I know.

KS: And then you did kind of a weird thing – which, I understand in retrospect why you did it, but it freaked me out so much in the moment! You told me about listening to that podcast, and then you were like, “Is that still something that you want?” but you did not indicate at all if you wanted it.

SS: Yeah. I just left the question to you.

KS: So I think I gave a very non-committal response. I think I basically was like, “I mean, yeah, but also, if you didn’t want that, I could live without it, but yeah, I do want that.” And then you were like, “Yeah, I want that too.”

SS: Yeah. I had thought about it a bunch before asking about it, because I figured that if I brought it up, that would be the conversation that we were gonna have. And while I didn’t know exactly what that would look like, when I thought about it, I definitely wanted it.

KS: Why did you want it?

SS: It feels safer to me. Nurturing somebody and being in this kind of parental, guiding role is a lot of effort and emotional work. Even though it doesn’t feel like work, it’s a lot of emotional output. I don’t think I could do it for multiple people at once, and I kind of want to see that commitment mirrored on the other side. I want to know that the person I’m doing it for and with is on the same page, ideally.

KS: I think we are.

SS: Yeah, I think so too. And also, would it be confusing for you to have multiple daddies? Like, how would you deal with conflicts in terms of the guidance you were getting from these different people? Just seems like it might be kind of hard.

KS: Yeah, I don’t know, ‘cause I’ve never really been in that position before. I’ve never even really had more than one dom at a time, so I don’t know. I guess that would have to be negotiated on a case-by-case basis. But I agree with something you said to me a while ago: that if I did have more than one dom, they would probably basically have to be in charge of different things.

SS: Right. Otherwise it just gets to a point where you’re getting conflicting information, and then you’re gonna feel really bad if you’re disappointing somebody.

KS: Yup. I would be interested to talk to other poly submissives about how they deal with that.

SS: Yeah, for sure.

KS: So, you were calling me diminutive names before we were even playing with DD/lg stuff more explicitly.

SS: [dommy voice] Oh yeah? Was I?

KS: Yeah! What do you get out of calling me names like “little one” and “princess”? Why do you like that?

SS: ‘Cause when I look at you and when I fuck you and when I cuddle you, that’s how you feel to me. You feel little and precious and beautiful and special, and I want the names that I use for you to reflect that.

KS: [giggling] It’s so nice. I feel like you actually see me the way I feel like I am, when I’m in that headspace, which is really affirming.

SS: Yeah.

KS: I have a lot of guilt about that, because I feel like, on some level, it comes from a place of internalized fatphobia – about growing up chubby and wanting to literally be seen as, and called, small. But I think it’s more about the feeling of powerlessness.

SS: Yeah, I don’t think about it in that dimension. I don’t think about your body being thinner, or whatever, than it is. I think about it more in terms of the power differential, but also the knowledge differential, I guess. Like, “daddy’s gonna show you how your body works,” or “daddy’s gonna show you how to eat oysters for the first time,” or…

KS: [giggling]

SS: Like that. Like, I’m gonna show you things about the world and about yourself, and that makes you little, because you haven’t experienced those things yet. Even if that’s not technically true – like if we’re roleplaying that – it’s still really hot to me.

KS: Yeah, me too. How is it different to relate to someone who is in little space versus them just being in subspace?

SS: Oh my god, so interesting. Oh, wow. It’s not dissimilar. There’s the case when somebody is in little space, there’s the case when they’re in subspace, and then there’s the case when they’re in both.

KS: Right.

SS: A subspacey person is still presenting as an adult, and you want to be very clear with them, because they’re spacey, but you don’t need to inhabit a role where you are older and more nurturing towards them. And when they’re in little space but not in subspace, you don’t need to do the things that you would do for somebody who is in subspace, necessarily, but you want to play into the fact that they are small and full of wonder and they want to be shown things and they’re curious and they’re playful, and you’re the adult in the situation, so you still get the final say on everything. They can ask for things, but it’s your scene. And then when they’re in little space and subspace, that’s the most fun, ‘cause they’ve got that childlike wonder and they’re also really spacey and easy to move around and steer where you want them, and it’s such an altered state that it’s really fun to play with.

KS: Do you feel differences between topspace, dom space, and “daddy space”?

SS: Topspace and dom space, to me, are pretty synonymous. I don’t really feel that much of a difference. Maybe I haven’t topped non-dominantly enough to know. Daddy space… The main difference I feel is when they’re not the same thing. So, when I’m in a not-explicitly-sexual scenario with you, like at a restaurant, or holding your hand while we cross the street, or watching you perform from the audience as your daddy, that feels a lot different to me than topspace. I’m not actively topping, I’m not doing a thing, but I still have this pride and this sense of protectiveness and care and carefulness that permeates my whole brain.

KS: Aww. That’s so cute.

SS: Yeah. And, again, when they’re combined, it’s a lot.

KS: Do you think your voice changes?

SS: Do you think so?

KS: [giggling] Well, I’m trying to think about whether your “dom voice” is different from your “daddy voice.” I do think there is a difference, and I think it’s a tenderness.

SS: Yeah, I think so too. I can totally picture me saying things in both of those voices, and I think when I’m doing stuff as your daddy, versus just as your Sir, it’s more condescending and it’s more tender at the same time.

KS: Yep. I like it.

SS: [daddy voice] You do like it, little one, don’t you? I know what you like, babygirl…

KS: [subby giggling] Hey!

SS: Hey!

KS: Heyyy!

SS: Hey! You don’t wanna get little right now?

KS: Well, I only have two more questions.

SS: Okay.

Check back on Friday for the last instalment of this interview, in which we’ll be talking about ethical concerns around DD/lg, advice for burgeoning daddy doms, literal versus non-literal ageplay dynamics, and being a submissive daddy!

Are You My Daddy?

Kate Sloan

“If we have sex – not necessarily tonight, or ever, but if we do – what should I know about you to make sure you have a good time?”

He’s asking me this question in the fluorescently-lit, 24-hour McDonald’s near Comedy Bar, and somehow that doesn’t make it any less romantic.

“Hmm,” I begin, gnawing on a French fry. “I like toys. I like being spanked. I have a burgeoning Daddy Dom/little girl kink. Everything else, I think you’ll figure out on your own.”

He nods solemnly, taking this in. He has a mind like a computer, and he’s just created a folder entitled “How to Make Kate Come.” I see it in his thoughtful, analytic eyes. McDonald’s is heated on this chilly March night, but a shiver goes through me nonetheless.

Later, he’ll be three knuckles deep inside me, fingertips cresting along the spot that makes me come. “That’s your sweet spot, huh, babygirl?” he intones. “You’re getting so wet for Daddy…” And, yeah, that does the fucking trick. Stars explode behind my eyes and I lose sight of the world for a few moments, lost in my littleness.

But post-orgasmic doubt sets in, as it is wont to do. “I’m pretty good at knowing what people want to hear,” he tells me when I compliment his dirty-talk prowess, and poof: there goes my boner. He can’t be my Daddy if he’s only stepping into the role for my benefit. It’s like dancing with someone who’s too cool to really get into it, and keeps pulling “ironic” faces and making fun of the music. You can’t relax into goofy wild weirdness around someone who’s there reminding you how weird it all is, however implicitly. You need them to get lost in the weirdness with you, so you can get out of your head and just be deliciously in your body together.

He didn’t want to dance with me. He kept mocking the music. He kept telling me “what I wanted to hear.” He was not my Daddy.

Wading into poly for the first time, I quickly discovered: it’s smart to talk to your partners’ partners, if they’re cool with that. You learn so much.

“He’s super GGG and so kink-minded,” my metamour said, moonily. “Some guys get so weirded out when you ask them to hit you or choke you, but he always does it when I want him to.” I could practically see the hearts in her eyes. As sweet as she was on this dude, I wasn’t quite sold on him. Something felt… off.

I mentioned my DD/lg feelings mid-sext one day, and then all the right keywords started popping up in his dirty-talk, like a social media algorithm that knows what you’ve shopped for online and reminds you of your history every day thereafter. “Does my little girl need a spanking?” he queried coolly from across the couch when I was depressed one afternoon.

I nodded, but his comment activated a sad sensation I knew well: performative kink. It is categorically different from actual kink. It’s the difference between “Yeah, sure, I’ll play a submissive role for you, I guess,” and “You are utterly in control of me.” Just as you can’t choose whether you’ll fall in love with someone, you can’t choose whether you’ll feel subby to someone – and I felt neither of those things toward this boy. But I could pretend. And I did.

His filthy monologues, at least, were on-point. Midway through our second fuck of the day, he murmured to me in his darkened bedroom, “I want you to come all over Daddy’s cock like you did earlier.” My vagina responded readily, but it was almost perfunctory: yeah, you said The Thing, so I guess I’ll do The Thing. But it wasn’t quite what I had imagined that Thing would feel like. A hollowness followed that dutiful orgasm: I was someone’s little girl, surely, but not his. He was not my Daddy.

My new beau texts me from a party. A couple in his sightline has what he perceives as an overt DD/lg dynamic, and he is, as he puts it, “having some FEELINGS.”

I text back: “Like, ‘wanting me to call you Daddy’ feelings? ‘Cause, like, same.”

We’ve only talked about this in generalities so far, but his reply tells me everything I need to know. “Fuck. Yes.”

I have no idea what I’m doing. I type a sentence which feels like it should live only within the hazy universe of sexting, and can’t possibly bleed into real life – and yet, here I am, saying it to a real-life partner, albeit in a text. “Excited to come fuck your little girl this weekend?”

There is barely a pause before his response comes back: “Yes, little one, Daddy is very excited to fuck you this weekend.”

The weekend comes. We are hyper-communicative kink nerds, thank god, and lie in bed talking about our Feelings before we delve into sex. “I liked it when we were texting, but I don’t know if I’ll like it in real life,” he carefully confesses. Noticing the confusion on my face, he clarifies: “You know… That word I can’t say.”

I laugh, because I don’t think I can say it either. It feels silly, saccharine, embarrassing, vulnerable. It feels like admitting to something I am absolutely not supposed to want, even though we’ve both admitted we want it, and we both know better than to kink-shame. It’s all well and good to believe other people have a right to their safe and consensual kinks, whatever those may be; it is another thing entirely to accept that you have a right to like what you like. That you are not broken or weird or sick for wanting the things you urgently want.

He kisses me, and it’s like this word we cannot say is silently fuelling our lust; it’s the whirr in my ears, the rat-tat of my heart. I say it a thousand different ways in my mind. I beam it at him while he claws at my skin, spanks my ass red, beats me with a cane. The word resides in my grimaces and in his smirks. It’s an unspoken parenthetical in every sentence we spit.

He lifts his head from where it ended up, between my thighs, and says with the steady calm that turns me to mush: “I’m going to make you come now.” And then he slides two fingers deep inside me, and hands me my Tango, and does what he has promised.

The sounds in the room, as I’m coming down from my orgasm, are a mellow chorus of mewls and whimpers and “Mm-hmm, that’s right” and “You are such a good girl.” I scrunch my fists in the sheets to gather my strength and my resolve, and then I look down at him and say, “Come here. I want to tell you something.”

As he crawls up my body, I wonder if he thinks I’m going to say “I love you.” It’s way too early for that. And also, what I’m about to say feels even bigger, trickier, riskier.

I pull him toward me and purr in his ear, “Daddy, you made your little girl come so hard.”

I feel his cock stiffen and stir against my leg, and he groans like it’s involuntary. Like I pulled the sound from deep within his body. “You want Daddy to fuck you now?” he asks, soft, so soft. I hear how hard he works to push the word past his lips, to force it out while his self-shaming superego tries to tamp it down. I moan my approval like watering a plant I hope will grow strong. And then he fucks me until I am even less than a little girl: a puddle, a cloud, a sweetly sighing mirage.

He strokes my hair in the afterglow, and comments thoughtfully: “I think what freaks me out about that word is how much I like it.”

I laugh. Yup. That. “I know what you mean. It’s like, ‘You can’t say that! That’s The Thing!'” The Thing that catches my breath and halts my words. The Thing that darkens my panties with want. The Thing that flips some secret switch in my brain from “off” to “on.” You know. The Thing.

He smiles, and pulls me tighter against him. “You are such a sweet little girl,” he breathes contentedly, and I know that he is right – and that he is my Daddy.