Content note for this post: ageplay and Daddy Dom/little girl roleplay between consenting adults; a brief mention of pedophilia.
The first time I encountered the term “little space” was, I believe, in the ageplay episode of the Why Are People Into That? podcast. Journalist and sex workers’ rights advocate Siouxsie Q opened up about (among other things) performing in a “Little Ms. Little” pageant, and how weird it was to sing and dance for strangers from a kinky headspace she normally reserves for private, intimate interactions.
Despite never having encountered the concepts of “Daddy dom/little girl” roleplay or “little space” before listening to this podcast, they resonated in my body and brain immediately. I knew what it felt like to be “little,” and had experienced momentary glimpses of it before. Playing a little girl in improv scenes. Descending into giggly juvenility after too many drinks or tokes. Being goofy around friends and partners I knew wouldn’t judge me. I wouldn’t have known to refer to these moods as a separate headspace, one with its own name and attributes, but when I examined them through this new lens, I realized I had always enjoyed feeling young and small. It was a welcome respite from the pressures and terrors of adulthood.
As a person with depression and anxiety, navigating a career that relies on my constant vigilance and self-directed action to stay afloat, it is an immense relief sometimes to give up control to someone else. This explains why I enjoy subspace, but as for specifically little space, I think it returns me to a time in my life when everything felt hopeful, comfortable, and safe. I was a precocious kid, always getting good grades and impressing adults, and it didn’t feel difficult; I amassed compliments without even having to try. Those moments got less and less frequent as I grew up, because intellect and ambition are less remarkable in a teenager or an adult than they are in a child, but I continued craving them nonetheless.
That feeling of “Yay, I did a good job and someone noticed!” began to get compounded in murkily sexual ways when the compliment came from attractive older masculine people – professors, mentors, friends of the family – and what was once a purely intellectual motivation became a somewhat carnal one too. I craved a relationship in which I could go fully into the headspace that mildly patronizing compliments put me into, without tempering the blushing and giggling that those kind words provoked in me. I wanted it to be a mutually consensual delight, a two-way street: I wanted someone who loved giving me that kind of focused attention and encouragement as much as I loved to receive it.
Subsequent DD/lg dalliances taught me even more about what little space felt like to me, what helped bring it on, and why I liked it. A particularly kink-positive friend-with-benefits once asked me if I’d like to leave a stuffed animal at his place to cuddle during aftercare, and while I appreciated the thoughtfulness of the offer, I realized that my inner little girl wasn’t really interested in those kinds of toys. Maybe I wanted my comfort to come, instead, from being “daddy’s girl” and having that deep, intimate connection with someone I admired who wanted to take care of me.
I learned from that FWB, too, that not just anyone could be my daddy. Not even all masculine dominant types could be a daddy to me. In tentatively exploring my newly-uncovered kink, he called me “little one” and “little girl” fairly regularly, but when he mentioned that I could try calling him “daddy” if I wanted to, I clammed up. As comfortable as I felt with him, I just didn’t quite have the attraction to and intimacy with him that I realized I needed for someone to feel like my daddy. Each time I slipped partway into little space around him, from a thorough paddling or caning while being called “babygirl” in oaky tones, I got self-conscious and sometimes even panicked. The silliness of my “little” self felt too vulnerable to share with this person I had only a casual relationship with. I worried he’d think it was weird or inappropriate if I wanted to nuzzle my face into his chest like a kitten or roll around giggling when we watched cartoons as aftercare. I just couldn’t fully relax into authentic little space with him because he wasn’t the right daddy for me.
Going into that space with new partners still feels vulnerable, even though I’ve done it in a few other relationships since then. Even if I know the person is into D/s, or DD/lg specifically, I still front-load these encounters with excessive explanations – “I get pretty goofy when I’m subspacey sometimes,” or “Sometimes I act weird and make no sense when I’m in scenes” – because I want to know my partners are not only okay with this but also hopefully into it. Just as it takes me a while to feel confident that a new partner actually finds me attractive and isn’t planning to break up with me at any moment (#AnxietyLyfe, am I right), it also takes me some time to trust that they’re just as attracted to Little Kate as they are to Adult Kate. I need to hear them say – repeatedly, continually – that they find it hot when I regress into a wee little whirlwind of whimsy. This can require my partners to confront deeply-held shame, in some cases, as with my ex-daddy who grew concerned that his interest in DD/lg somehow made him a pedophile, even though he only ever wanted to be romantic and sexual with adults.
Once we’ve relaxed into a functioning dynamic, however, little space can be a refuge and a gift for both of us. When in its thrall, I’m able to let go of my anxiety and sadness to a remarkable extent, and delight once again in small amusements, like bad puns and winding stories told in wacky voices. I become innocent and excitable, sloughing off my adult cynicism for the duration of a scene. I don’t deflect or deny compliments like my insecurities tell me I should, but instead, actually hear and absorb them, believing somehow that daddy knows best. I get more immersed in the moment; life’s petty dramas and complications temporarily melt away. I’m easier to tease and torment and tickle, easier to overpower and overjoy. My arousal ramps up more readily because my adult anxieties are no longer holding my boner hostage. Little space is like a cheat code that buys me some time to be effortlessly happy, relaxed, and turned on, even in the face of grown-up factors which make these moods difficult to access.
Little space has superficial effects, too: my eyes get wider, my voice gets higher, my vocabulary gets simpler. I’m easier to manipulate, both psychologically and physically. I’m more prone to dancing, singing, and giggling. Most amazingly, it’s not like I consciously choose to “put on” these affectations; they rush at me straight from my youth, full-force and fully-formed, like a day hasn’t passed since I was 12. I perceive myself as being smaller and younger – and while not all partners join me fully in this perception, that just makes it all the more satisfying to be with those that do. When my current daddy calls me his little one, and talks about how small I am and how much I need and deserve his protection, I know that’s not just lip service; it’s how he really sees me. And that feels just as good now as it did the very first time an authority figure called me a clever little girl.
Thank you to Delirium Toys for sponsoring this post! I’m so excited to tell you that they have a brand-new DD/lg section on their site, containing coloring books, stuffed animals, collars, and other treats to help you get into little space. They also sent me the “babygirl” crop tops I’m rocking in the photos for this post. Soooo cute! You can use the coupon code GIRLYJUICE30OFF to get 30% off anything from their DD/lg section!