The other day, Jason spanked me.
I know, shocker.
I don’t remember what I did, but I do know it wasn’t huge trouble, but it was also not a fun spanking, or a reminder, but a punishment, and that the spanking happened at the end of the night.
We have a sort of routine when I get a naughty girl spanking. He calls me up to him, takes out his implement, makes me kneel, and we talk about whatever it is we need to talk about. He usually lectures, reinforces why we have this rule, and then over the knee I go.
I’m sure I deserved it. If I didn’t, I’d probably be blogging about a whole other topic!
He hugged me and he told me to get ready for bed, so I did, and when he came up to me, I sorta looked like this.
Not a really bratty pout, but an I need some attention pout.
Now, to clarify, serious pouting isn’t tolerated. If he tells me no, or he lectures me, and I pout back at him, I can pretty much guarantee I’ll get in trouble for it, and I try not to do that anyway. But sometimes… if he’s been very busy or I got in trouble and I need my daddy so badly, I almost can’t help but pout a bit…well, that’s okay.
I’m his baby girl. And the beauty of being his baby girl means I don’t always have to act like a grown-up
He doesn’t mind if I need him and show it, and he always responds the same way. He chuckles, or smiles, and comes over to me, pulls me up onto his chest or his lap and says, “Don’t pout, baby.” He likes that I let my guard down. He likes that I trust him enough not to have to put on a brave face all the time. He’s my Dom, and doms need to be needed.
There’s a childlike part of all of us, and one of the most beautiful parts of embracing my submission is that I’ve been able to let that part of me free. I am a busy person with oh-so-many responsibilities. My to-do lists are, at times, monumental. The other day a friend of mine said something to the effect, “From where I’m standing, your life looks like well-orchestrated chaos.” Yes, I think that’s pretty accurate.
Being submissive to Jason doesn’t mean that I’m not an adult. I still have a great deal of responsibility. It does mean that I’m free to let so much go, though, a concept I’ve explored many times here on this blog, such as this post HERE.
But today, I’d like to explain something else that’s happened as a result of being Jason’s little girl. Because he’s my daddy, and I don’t have to shoulder all the responsibilities all the time, there are times when I feel very different. This I’ve explored as well, about how there's a little girl inside me, and that there's a big difference between childish and childlike.
But the reason that I’ve brought it up again is because the longer we are in this, the more I’m able to truly let go. I don’t have to pretend to be a grow-up all the time. I love just being his little girl.
So the other day, Jason spanked me, and when he came upstairs later, I pouted a bit.
“Aw, honey,” he said. “You need your daddy, don’t you?”
I nodded, and I felt very little. Cherished. Protected. Childlike.
It's hard to admit that, even on this blog where I've bared my heart and soul for years, because I'm an adult. I'm a professional. But at the end of the day, when my kids are tucked in, my work is done and I'm offline, I have no more chores or responsibilities and only rest lies ahead of me?
I'm only Jason's Girl.
“Come here, honey,” he said, leaning down to kiss my forehead. “You’re very tired, and it’s time I put you to bed.” The covers were all tangled, so he said, “Daddies need to straighten out sheets for little girls,” and he did, lifting the bedspread and smoothing out the sheets before tucking me back in. “You may read for a little bit, but then I want you to get some sleep.”
Yes, I melted into a puddle.
One could say that he was treating me like a child, and honestly, it would be a pretty accurate assessment. I certainly felt very little. But I loved it.
What exactly does it mean to be an adult? Does it mean that we shoulder responsibilities? That we are expected to behave maturely? That we’ll handle responsibilities without shrugging them off? That we willingly sacrifice our own needs to meet the needs of others?
There’s a trend these days with people saying, “I don’t want to adult today.” Some days, the weight of responsibility becomes too much to hold, and it’s utterly freeing just to relax.
And honestly, I think that’s one of the most beautiful parts of being Jason’s little girl. I don’t always have to be the strong one.
I can embrace being young at heart. I can trust him to tuck me in, and take care of my needs. I can go to bed because he’s told me to, and not have to worry about all the things that bother me.
And that means I don’t feel like I always have to be so grown up.
It’s not really what I do but how I feel, which is an important distinction to make. I still do what needs to be done. I don't shirk my duties. But when I'm in my submissive head space, I can easily slip into being his little girl, and it often happens these days after I’ve been disciplined. I decided to blog about this, because it’s something that’s been simmering beneath the surface for years, but only fully come to light in recent months, likely because it's taken this long to come to grips with who we are. The relationship constantly evolves.
Every time he doms me, every time I submit to him, we grow a little bit.
The more I trust him, the more vulnerable I can allow myself to become, and the more vulnerable I can allow myself to become, the fewer masks I need to wear.
I feel…cared for. Little. Vulnerable. Cherished.