Tuesday, November 29, 2005

Jumpers Versus Rompers


Sometimes I wonder why it is that I chose to pursue a mathematical career when the English language is filled with such delightful and fascinating subtleties.

Yesterday I asked my eldest brother what his wife would like for Christmas and he suggested a new warm jumper. As a man who is loath to go shopping anytime, particularly near Christmas, I thought that looking online was the best way to approach this.

Not knowing where I wanted to shop, but hoping to find some nice pictures of jumpers I could send my brother to choose from, I typed in my search term, "adult jumper". (I am certain my American friends can already guess what happened!)

Something I knew, but had completely forgotten, is that what I call a "jumper" is known in North America as a "sweater" or a "pullover". So, rather than bringing up pictures of adult-size sweaters, what I found was photographs of what I would call "rompers", or adult baby clothes! Imagine my delighted surprise.

Needless to say, I did not manage to find a gift for my sister in law, but I think the above will look nice on my wife. LOL.

Monday, November 28, 2005

Outing her

This post is in response to a question that was asked of my girl, in her blog. (She mentioned the necessity, of late, to explain our lifestyle to a colleague who had seen some marks I'd left on her during a punishment. She explained to the colleague that the marks derived from consensual activity and this news was met with little fanfare.)

My girl mentioned that this was the second time she had had her private lifestyle exposed to outsiders, and this was the question that was asked:


Daddy's little one said... Wow you're brave to have done that! I have never told ANYONE about me and my Daddy. Can you tell the story of the time your Daddy told some people? I would love to hear it.

And that is the story I am going to tell. It happened several years ago, when we were still what I would term "newlyweds". We were attending my brother's wedding in a neighbouring town and staying in a hotel. The bride and groom had already been married and embarked on their honeymoon and several of the guests decided to stay on in the hotel a couple more nights to enjoy some vacation time. My brother and I are close in age and share many mates in common so to stay longer in the hotel with them promised to be a pleasant time.

Our second evening after the wedding, a situation arose that required me to punish my girl. Back in those days she was more obstinate than she is now. Although I would never have termed her to be argumentative or rude, there were times when we were newly married that she still needed to test to see what her boundaries were. (I shouldn't not imply that this never happens now, either, but that it is with increasingly less frequency as she continues to learn that my expectations and the rules are consistent.) I forgot the specifics of the misbehaviour, but the end result was that she talked back to me and in essence suggested that I wouldn't dare to spank her while we were in the hotel with my mates and family. She was right about that - I would not punish her with my mates and family within hearing ranger. I took her in the car out to the woods and punished her there! I gave her a very long and hard strapping that left her most contrite.

Upon our return to the hotel, she went to sleep in the double bed and I relaxed and read my book. It was about an hour later that the room telephone rang and it was my mates inviting us down to the hotel hottub. We had planned on staying in for the evening, but the invitation appealed to me and so did the idea of my red-bottomed girl wearing a bathing suit! So, I decided we would go. I woke her and told her to get into her bathing suit. She protested half-heartedly, but did not argue when she realised I was resolved we should go. She knew better than to argue mere hours after a punishment.

She put on the bathing suit and much to my pleasure the fact that she had recently been spanked was more than apparent. She tugged at the legs to pull them down lower, but to no avail. It was impossible to hide. She wore a towel around her waist and resolved to sit on the side with just her toes dangling in the water. I told her I would decide that.

At that point I wasn't entirely sure who the company at the hottub would be. I can be discreet when it comes to great aunts and sweet Catholic grannies! But the hottub contained no family members and only my mates, many of whom had had several drinks that evening.

I told my girl she would get in the hottub with everyone else. She eased in there so slowly I laughed out loud. I can only imagine what hot water felt like on that burning bottom! Expressions were quizzical but because she was facing forward, no one could see what she was hiding. She worked hard to keep her tail end well-hidden but eventually was forced to step out of the hottub for a washroom break. She certainly moved quickly in hopes no one would notice her bottom, but in a hottub full of men, there was nowhere else for the eyes to go! Every pair of eyes zeroed in on my artwork and there was shouting, laughing and carrying on.

I told them to wait until she returned and she could explain for herself. She returned with a face almost as red as her tail, and slipped back into the water next to me. "Go ahead, love," I told her. "The boys want to know what happened to you."

She couldn't speak. I took a little pity on her and decided to speak on her behalf. "We had a little incident this afternoon, didn't we, love?" She nodded. "She was rather naughty, you see, and spoke to me in a very saucy way. So she had a little lesson to learn."

I grinned and my mates howled with laughter. They've known me many years, of course, and this didn't come as much of a surprise to them. I wasn't terribly secretive in my school days about my interests and they always knew this was what interested me. Many of them, in fact, expressed a shared interest in such things, but none of this was known to my girl. From her point of view, she had been outed in a terribly embarrassing way and was now subjected to the ribbing and teasing of friends who thought it was extremely funny. Her blush was adorable and so was her squirm. To this day, they inquire after her bottom when they ring me on the phone and she answers.


You must think me extraordinarily cruel after reading this story, which makes me want to write a little more on the subject of embarrassment. It is my belief and experience that many submissives/little ones derive a type of pleasure from certain types of embarrassment. While I would never subject my girl to true, unpleasant embarrassment and humiliation, I have learned that there are types of embarrassment that serve our lifestyle very well.

This experience in the hottub was rather on the extreme end of the kinds of embarrassment I have subjected her to, but there are also many smaller things I do on a regular basis that are designed to bring about this type of blush.

When she is punished, I often make her get the spanking implements. I have her tell me why she is about to be spanked or have her take down her own knickers and bend over. I take her temperature in her bottom whether she needs it or not, and give her the ocassional swat when we are out in public if her behaviour warrants. In restaurants, I enjoy ordering my wine and asking the waitress to bring her a class of white milk. These are all things that are designed to infantilize her and embarrass her. While she blushes and squirms at the moment, she will freely admit (much later!) that the embarrassment touches on a part of her submissive needs. And I must admit that creating and witnessing that embarrassment in her fulfills something dark and sadistic inside me.

I would be interested to know what others think of this topic, and whether this need is something others can relate to.

Sunday, November 20, 2005

Babies of Babies

A question that has arisen many times in my life is the question of having children. My mother, in particular, longs for my wife and I to have a child and makes her wishes clear as frequently as possible. My wife would make a wonderful mother, but doesn't want to be one.

Being a "real" father is not something that has ever particularly appealed to me although I do enjoy children very much. My brother has three and they spend many weekends with us. My wife and I enjoy their company, their energy and their mischief. And yet, at the end of a visit, I am always more than sated. I do not feel anything is missing in my life by not having children of my own.

There are parts of my marriage that would have to change if we had children. I would not be free to send my girl to the corner immediately whenever she misbehaved. I would not be able to make free use of the kitchen cooking utensils on her bottom at a moment's notice. I would certainly not be able to push her nearly as far as I do during punishments or during sexual adventures because she is much too vocal for young ears.

I have heard the comment that I do not desire children specifically because my wife is also my little girl. Not so. I do not feel that having this type of relationship with my wife has anything to do with real children. I would never treat a real child the way I treat my wife. The sexual underpinnings of everything we do makes this dynamic completely different. I would not aim to embarrass a real child through discipline the way I do with my wife. For a real child, this would be unhealthy and abusive. For her, this is a sexual and adult need to feel chastened and our age play relationship in spite of its name has next unto nothing to do with my feelings about real children.

I am interested to know, those of you who have real children, how do you fit your age play or BDSM or S&M (acronym acronym) lifestyle into your parental lives?

Tuesday, November 15, 2005

How I Knew --- Part II

Thank you, ice princess, for your interesting question. How did I know I wanted to be a Daddy?

There is so much conflicting testimony out there if you frequent ageplay communities as to how the need to be a Daddy/Mummy or little one arises, running the gammet from various forms of childhood abuse and neglect all the way to having been too indulged in childhood. In my own case, and in my seasoned adulthood, I choose to no longer dwell on the wherefores and instead, to proceed with caution.


I believe each individual brings a different set of specific needs to this dynamic and it is important to find a partner who is not simply and only interested in ageplay, but whose specific ageplay requirements are a good fit.

I knew I wanted to be a Daddy back when I still was a wee child myself. This feeling manifested itself in two general inner feelings: a desire to protect and a desire to correct. I knew from a very young age, when I played with the pretty girls in my classes at school, that I wanted to be in control . I wanted to organize our games and I also, even as a child, felt that I wanted to spank them when they did not listen to me!

These basic desires that first appeared on the playground matured and became clearer to me as I grew up. By the time I was in my early teens and beginning some fledgling attempts at having girlfriends, I had developed a very protective sense of how to treat them. I had fantasies that were much more explicit than anything I would have dared attempt at that point! but I think my early girlfriends would have described me as being rather fatherly. I took it upon myself to make pointed suggestions about doing homework and I do remember taking a young lady's smoking habit upon myself to break for her, guiding her somewhat reluctantly through a process of quitting. I enjoyed the sense of guiding girls through something they did not particularly want to do, for their own good. Love tied in a slightly sadistic ribbon.

The disciplinary aspects of being a Daddy were something I also felt very strongly drawn to early on, and that feeling only grew as I went through the tortures of puberty! While other teenaged boys were sneaking peeks at pictures of naked women, I was sneaking peeks and adding strap marks in my mind. Lo, these were the days before internet access became a modern convenience and little did I know that there was anyone else in the world like me! As I grew through my teen years, I found my protective nature was appreciated by many girls, and also their parents. The disciplinary was less appreciated. I attempted the odd playful swat here and there but was, for the most part, too concerned about being thought mentally ill to do much more.

Meanwhile, the internet began to bloom and by the time I was in my twenties I was suddenly, blissfully, able to discover that what I felt were strange and unusual urges were actually shared by other men and women around the world. At that time, chatrooms were uncommon, however. I indulged myself with pictures and stories.

My fantasies were developing and becoming more intricate. What had begun as a simpler interest in being bossy and spanking women, evolved to include interest in other types of discipline and control, including diapering, spanking, temperature taking, grounding, corner time, enemas, and so forth.

I knew that I did not want to have a serious relationship with any women who would not also enjoy these things. (Enjoy is sometimes the wrong word, because of course, being slightly sadistic, I do not wish a women to *enjoy* being punished while it is happening. But consensuality is essential.)

My girl and I have an agreement. Punishments are not up for debate immediately before or during, because at that time, emotions are running high. No little girl with her knickers down will tell you that she agrees she should be spanked. You don't ask that question. You might convince her she knows WHY she is about to be spanked, and that she understands your rationale, but that's probably the best you're going to get while she's in that position. Ask her afterward if she deserved it, if she needed it, and if she still wants you to be in charge of her discipline and you'll hear a million tearstained yeses. But not before. And not during. As it should be.

Monday, November 14, 2005

A Picture is worth a Thousand Words

We have been considering buying ourselves a new digital camera for Christmas. The last one we purchased was quite useless. The pictures always came out dark and grainy.

I have been thinking, inspired by other blogs, how lovely it would be to start a scrapbook of digital photos to keep track of my little girl's punishments. Picture it: before and after shots? Or progression shots as marks heal?

Her bottom does turn such a lovely shade when it is properly attended to. It seems such a shame not to share it with the world. LOL.

Tuesday, November 08, 2005

How I Knew

It is the plight of the single Daddy to date, not knowing whether the girlfriends are potential little-ones or not. Knowing as I did, specifically, what I was looking for, there was absolutely no way I would ever have married a woman who did not share my kink. Being a Daddy is something undeniable in me and I would prefer to search forever than commit to stopping the search to settle down with someone with whom those needs could not be fulfilled.

I did not meet girls online though I know that is likely the most common and perhaps also the simplest way to find a partner who shares a particular kink. I dated the old-fashioned way, being set up with mates' girlfriends' friends, meeting women at work, even meeting my mother's friends daughters!

Not having met these women in spanking chatrooms left the problem of how to approach the question. I could hardly imagine myself leaning in over dinner and saying softly to the woman I was dating, "My dear, I find you so attractive but before I can commit to pursuing a serious relationship with you I need you to tell me whether you will at some point in the conceivable future, allow me to bend you over and spank your bare bottom until you cry?"

I had two tests. The first was a small one based on petnames. Early on I would try calling the women I was dating, "little one", or "little girl" to see how they would react. Surprisingly, you can tell a lot just from this. Potential little girls react very visibly, blushing with sparkling eyes and snuggling up closer. Non-potential girls jump on it immediately demanding just what on earth you mean!

When the first test went well, I had a second one which was even more telling. That test was The Swat. It is rarely difficult in the early playful stages of dating to find a reason to administer a swat. I would do just that. One hard swat in the middle of the bottom followed by a serious look. The swat had to be playful enough to be written off as such by the non-potential woman, but hard enough to deliver a sting and a message that the potential little girl could receive.

The reactions to The Swat were varied and hilarious. Non-potential women reacted thusly:
*they would try to swat back

*they would be visibly annoyed
*they would respond by calling me names or repeating the action that had
brought on the swat in the first place

Some of the reactions were confusing. These, I believe, were women who themselves did not know their own potential yet. These women would:
*look amused and/or confused
*blush and stammer

This test appears terribly sexist as I put it down before my own eyes. But I must assure that it was not harmful or damaging to anyone. At worst there are a few women in my past who think of me as a strange and slightly perverse man. I can live with that assessment most peacefully.

The important thing was that The Swat brought on the right reaction when it was tested on the right woman. When I swatted my girl the first time, I knew instantly that I had not only found a potential little girl but that I had found MY little girl.

It was our third date. We were at my flat having supper together; I had cooked for her. She was helping me collect the dishes at the end of the meal when she dropped one. It did not break but she cursed anyway and at that, I came behind her swiftly and gave her one sharp smack on the bottom over her blue jeans and gave her my most Daddyish look. She turned two years old right before my eyes, blushing and pouting and looking terribly ashamed. I felt confident enough upon seeing that look to add an admonishment, "You won't speak like that here," and she shrunk even smaller and melted into my arms and whispered, "I'm sorry."

I gathered her up in my arms and made love to her that night in the most gentlemanly of ways but I was certain that we were about to embark on a journey that would involve some very impolite behaviours.

I believe it was our eighth date the first time I administered a true disciplinary spanking. Again in my flat, she cursed, and I took her to the settee and took down her underpants and spanked her bare-bottomed with the palm of my hand.

We had never discussed that this would be the way our relationship would work but it became clear from the very first swat that she was ready to accept my authority over her. By the time I gave her her first spanking it was assumed that I had her consent.

We did eventually discuss the dynamics of this relationship prior to my marriage proposal but by that time we had already fit very easily into the roles we both sought in our married lives. Discussing it was merely making it official.

Friday, November 04, 2005

Thoroughly Reticent

The girl was punished severely last night. Her disobedience far outweighed the severity of the infraction itself and she was punished largely for that rather than the mistake. She is rarely disobedient and only so when she feels that my rule is unfair or unreasonable. Being an American in Ireland she is certain that she knows far more about the use of gas fireplaces and the safety rules that should apply to them! She learned otherwise, I feel confident.

I was not pleased with her initial post on the subject of last night's punishment. She does need to learn that poetry will not suffice in place of details. Toward that end I required a second writing with the warning that any omitted details would be repeated as a refresher. Her second telling did not miss a single thing. Interesting, that.

I do not consider myself a Dom but I am not only a Daddy to the girl. She is not treated only as a child would be. I would not, in fact, spank a real child, let alone any of the other things I subject my woman-child to. There are things which move me which fall into the realm of being a Dominant, perhaps. She tears up so sweetly when she is scolded and blushes so prettily when ordered across my knee.

There is no sunset or waterfall that doesn't pale in comparison to the majesty of her beautiful bottom during a brisk spanking, trembling and quivering and reddening under my hand. The figging last night was a delight to watch as her warmed bottom clenched and unclenched and shook uncontrollably. I love her tears soaking into my jeans as she cries across my lap.

Tomorrow, assuming good behaviour, she will be treated to some good little girl rewards.

Thursday, November 03, 2005

The girl

The girl tries to please me. It is in her nature to be obedient, pleasant, and polite. I haven't had to teach her these things. Indeed, I do not believe I would have fallen in love with a woman who did not already possess these qualities.

I want to cherish my little girl. It is not my interest to turn a churlish shrew into someone tolerable. Instead I prefer to know my girl is good. Her heart is good, her intentions are pure.

But small mistakes will happen, thank god. They provide us the opportunities to explore who we are.

Tonight she left the gas fireplace running while she went down the street to the mailbox. When she arrived home with her cheeks pink from the cold, and found me in the living room by the fire, I saw her face drop. She knew immediately she had made a mistake.

She will be posting her thoughts on her mistake and what the consequences must be.



http://stickandcarrot.blogspot.com/

Tuesday, November 01, 2005

The Woman I Love

The woman I love is 34 and she is the most beautiful woman I have ever met. It seems impossible that she might love me too let alone willingly choose me as her Daddy and husband.

My girl is not a slave. To me that is more meaningful. It is more meaningful because she has the right to leave if she is unhappy. She has the right to tell me so if she needs something from me that I have overlooked. It means she has the dignity of choice and chooses me.

For that reason I consider myself the luckiest man there is.

I will be recording some of the specifics of our relationship here.
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