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  • Writer's pictureSweet Tea

The “Daddy” Thing

Artist credit to the late Bill Ward

If a man is holding me down and spanking me hard, really making me whine, I’m likely to beg and call him Daddy. It’s the same during sex—especially during doggystyle—and even more so if it’s somewhat painful.

I can’t remember when the urge to say that word began to take hold of me, but it’s pretty much involuntary at this point. I go into a trance on the brink of tears and it pours out of my mouth over and over between sobs until he lets up. I love those moments. Crave them. They make me feel alive.

The DDlg stuff can make for hot roleplay, but a father figure is not what I seek. If anything, I go for guys with playful older brother vibes. (Never had an older brother, so this never feels weird.)

What I want is Big Daddy Energy.

A man who handles my body carefully and authoritatively.

One who’s comfortable being in charge.

One who will hurt me safely and nicely.

One who will not stop just because I ask.

One who cares and will not leave when he should stay.

One who will hold me afterward and rub my bottom and whisper sweet nothings until I fall asleep.

Because that, you see, is the ultimate gift. Those stretches of reality where I do not have to do. I can simply be without thinking about anything at all. Daddy is taking care of things.

I can feel his skin and smell his sweat and focus on present-moment concerns like pain and arousal and his incapacitating strength holding me in place. I can lose and give up (as desired and expected). I can feel him taking up space within me, moving in and out like the air in my lungs, uniting the internal with the external. I can get lost in him and melt from head to toe like a messy chocolate sundae by the sea and no one will get mad because of course that’s happening. Daddy is spanking and fucking me. Getting lost and melting and breathing him in are the only sensical options. To receive him is to rest the mind and heal the soul.

Meditation cannot alchemize such an experience. Not psychedelics. Not a trip to Bora Bora.

Only Daddy can wield that sorcery.

Only he can stop time and channel that power from the universe.

Only he can tear down the walls of whatever I was an hour ago so I can be new.

Daddy alone.



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