What It Feels Like to Need a Daddy
I feel most like my little self when I crawl into bed or settle into a Daddyâs lap. Thatâs when the pressure liftsâwhen I stop trying to hold everything together. I donât have to perform. I donât have to be in charge. I can just be small. Still. Safe.
Sometimes I just need someone to stroke me like Iâm theirs. Not in a hurried way, not as a warm-up to something else, but like Iâm their pet. Like touching me is its own kind of care. Its own kind of claim.
Itâs hard to ask for that kind of attention, though. It feels risky. Shame creeps in the moment I speak the need out loudâbecause if they say no, I donât just feel rejected. I feel stupid for wanting it in the first place.
But when Iâm told Iâm a good girl, something shifts. I get warm. I get eager. I feel this soft, desperate pride in being goodâgood enough to please him, to serve him, to be kept. It makes me want to offer more. To behave. To be cherished and useful and easy to guide.
That part of me doesnât want control or chaos. She just wants to be looked after. To be seen when sheâs quiet. Touched when she starts to fade. She doesnât want to be toleratedâshe wants to be kept.
