I Want You to Call Me...Daddy
I'm going to start with one word...
The thing about it is... you can't actually ask to be called Daddy. At least not in Dominatrix circles, that's the first sign that you are in fact NOT a 'Daddy.'
What gets me in session is when I'm mid flogging and Daddy comes out and all of sudden, I'm like...'You know son, being a man means...' while they're in a mini skirt, bra and piggy tails.
You can't just drop Daddy like it's hot... it takes time and it takes finesse and it takes commitment and dedication.
A DICK doesn't make you Daddy.
Being...a Daddy... makes you a Daddy.
And if we are out here pegging the patriarchy, we must Peg the shit (well preferably not) out of it in ourselves.
I'm not here to make fun of the amount of money white men spend on me cause they Can... no I'm here to say... we ALL have Mommy and Daddy issues... and if I'm the person you NEED to call Daddy, I gotta get paid for that shit because it's deep.
BALLS DEEP...ya feel me?
And yes, I'm most certainly Daddy and no it ain't just the money honey. It's the vibe. It's the I gotchu. It's the trailer fixing, showing up to ball games, cleaning my shit up, paying my own bills, having a garden, mowing the lawn and ironing my dress before a gig Daddy.
It's the responsibility that gets em going.
Take care of me Daddy.
I know you can because yes you paid me and also...look how cute I am.
I tell you there is nothing I love more than a grown ass man all up in his privilege dressed up in pink lingerie willing to meet their Daddy who looks like mommy but feels like a Dominatrix.
Talk about a mind fuck cause that's all I do really... ain't no sex about it actually.
Now back to monikers, ok.
I've recently readopted Mistress because I dealt with my own mommy issues. And frankly Yes Mistress is great to hear through a gimp mask. All muffles and slobber, it's great.
But there's also...
And my most recent favorite...
Somebody watched too much Hell's Kitchen and really needed a read on their shitty Krusteaz muffins y'know.
So you may be wondering... ok, how do you know about all this Daddy Shit. Well besides living in a 'society.' I've been a pro domme for almost 5 years now.
And it's a MOMENT.
Sometimes I walk downstairs and my servants think assuming my needs means doing my dishes in fishnets and eyeliner...
Just fishnets and eyeliner.
If I want to see you naked I'll ask.
Another assumption is it's all Boss Boss Boss...Money Money Money....
As my mentor says, 'Running Bitches is HARD work.' And I truly believe that the work chooses you as do the subs.
So I'm also a Burlesque performer and the servant who's been serving me the longest identifies as a Crow to the point where sometimes I only get responses in Caw Caw Caw... and he gets lost in my closet of sparkles never to be seen from again.
It's not even like smelling my panties or some shit. It's like... this bra is excellently executed Master. And cue the long stare into my adorned handiwork while I wait for my closet to be arranged to my liking.
Needless to say, being a Master who has a pet slave that happens to identify as a bird is different than you know the ones who have pups. I have to be like, yeah... he's hanging in his bird cage and most likely molting...by himself. Brooding.
And I like that about him.
I've introduced my other servant to the idea of pup hood...as in pup play and hoods. He's feeling into it, it may actually be too close to home, but we're working on it. He's still resistant to how much of a bitch he actually is and this all takes time and patience. Similar to knowing you're a Daddy... when you know you're a Bitch. There's actually a ton of power in it.
Fight me. But don't, I look good today.
I also realized recently that it is actually stupid. Fetishes and Fantasies are all really really stupid.
Like, "Mistress let's have you dominate me while you're sweating your ass off in latex, hardly dressed in 6 inch heels, with gloves and tights and eyelashes that you can hardly see through.
Dangerous activities in even more dangerous clothing saying dangerous things in a dangerous social climate... if you think our subs are the only ones who are tortured, I guarantee you, if you're doing it equitably and fairly... the Dominatrix is also suffering.
Hence why we end our sessions with foot worship. Mmmmmhmmmm. There are certainly perks.
Back to my servant who doesn't know he's a pup yet. Yes, there are clues. Maybe it's the following me to my car, maybe it's the strong desire to be of use, maybe it's the constant need to be my companion or the obsession with being my friend or the distinct affinity this one has with pets... In any case... he oozes BPE. Big Pup Energy and when I say, "Good Boy" he positively dribbles all over himself.
So domination is at the heart of it all... strangely domestic...
We've got Daddys and Mommy's and Dress up and Puppies and spanking and Neglect...too soon?
But for real, there's nothing more kinky than playing house. It's why we're obsessed with watching people interact in sit coms... situational comedies and also why we can't stop laughing at these predicaments that are strangely familiar and almost devastatingly accurate.
The script is so easy.
Ok. Who the fuck actually knows what a Crow does...
Point is. I'm just hired to switch out the roles with people and to let them act the way they've always wanted to and if I'okm Daddy, they'll tell me and if I'm Mommy, they'll tell me and they'd never call me Chef because I'm terrible at cooking... for real.
I'm still figuring it all out to be honest with you because I've never understood anything about how society operates and perhaps that's the biggest reason I'm good at my job.... because I give all the fucks about fucking the patriarchy and what it's done to our relationships and none of the fucks about what anybody comes to me with.
You're fucked up.
Should we play house about it?
That's a good girl.
Let me grab my Dick about it.