Daddy’s Sweet Little by Scott Wylder

Chapter Five

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Nina

I didn’t know much about this stuff at all. However, I knew that this was the kind of thing I’d sought for as long as I could remember. A Daddy… I desperately wanted one. A Little … I didn’t want to become one. I felt like I already was one!

Of course, I didn’t know everything I wanted to know. It was almost as if I’d just heard about a brand-new restaurant in town and had read a great review. Everything sounded absolutely delicious, but I had no frame of reference at all. I couldn’t really determine anything until I had had a taste. That was about as far as the analogy went, though. I couldn’t very well walk into a diner serving little girl relationships.

But I could look at the menu, so to speak.

That evening, I did some online browsing. There were some porn videos, of course, and some of it didn’t do anything for me at all. I didn’t get turned on by the thought of a diaper or a baby rattle. The porn also didn’t really address any of the emotional stuff. I looked up domination and submission and some of those videos were better and even arousing, but when everything was presented as just sexual it held almost no appeal.

I had to scroll through four pages of search results before I found what I was looking for. I found a blog from a woman in a Daddy Dom/little girl relationship. She abbreviated it DDlg. I read about a day in their lives and sex wasn’t even discussed. The care and protection aspect, which had appealed to me so much in my conversation at Kendra’s house, was very prevalent there. The girl wore a diaper, but it wasn’t something that seemed like a big part of the relationship. She wrote that it made her feel little all the time.

I browsed a number of other blogs and most of them highlighted the romantic aspects of the relationship. The sexual part wasn’t hidden and there were some things I was surprised to discover I actually found appealing, like spankings and even being restrained. What appealed to me most, of course, was the emotional side. The care, guidance and protection, as well as the ability to let things go and to know everything would still be okay. I could relax a little and life wouldn’t fall apart.

I didn’t get much sleep, but when I woke early the next morning, I felt energized and refreshed in ways I hadn’t felt in a very, very long time. I was nervous, of course, but I already felt accepted by all of the women I had met. As goofy as I sometimes felt about the childish security-blanket kinds of thing I clung too, there were many of them who took it to a much further extreme, and none of them were judged at all. I couldn’t believe how free and safe they all seemed. I wanted that. I felt as if I’d just been given a very small look into that kind of life. Just enough to know I needed something like they had.

I wondered if I would feel out of place at the barbecue. They all had Daddies and I hadn’t. It kind of felt as if I was going to a school dance without a date. On the other hand, Kendra had assured me that the girls always ended up inside playing, while the men cooked the food and hung out together.

I realized the reason I kept going around in circles about all this was because I was afraid. I was afraid I’d seen what life could be for me and I wouldn’t actually get that life. I was afraid that – at any moment – they would tell me they really didn’t like me and I didn’t fit in.

That was the story of my life, after all. I didn’t fit in and people only liked me from a distance. Oh, there might be times when I could enjoy some companionship and friendship, but all of the relationships were essentially shallow and artificial. I knew the problem was me. I knew a lot of wonderful people, but wonderful people could still hurt you, and I spent most of my life trying to avoid being hurt. That meant never revealing too much about myself and never facing the judgment that might come.

I felt as if Kendra could know me completely. I felt the same way about all of the girls I had met at the little coloring party. It didn’t feel as if they were going to judge me at all, or that I was setting myself up for yet another horrible experience where I learned trusting anyone meant pain. On the contrary, it felt as if they trusted me. Why else would they let me in on their secret?

And what a secret!

Maybe the most exciting part about all of it was this: None of them seemed ashamed at all of their inclination to behave like little girls. They were discreet about it but they didn’t keep their lifestyle quiet out of any sense of shame but just as a practical matter. There was a big difference between hiding certain things about their lives to avoid the drama that might result and hiding, as I did, to avoid feeling ashamed and worthless.

These girls had it together.

I wanted desperately to have it together as well.

I continued to do some research online and returned to the videos. Now that I could envision the sex in context to a broader relationship, a relationship characterized by that special relationship between a Dom and a submissive expressed by Kendra, Jenna, Hannah and the others, the videos were a great deal more interesting. I could envision the way the couples on the screen treated each other in a different context.

Sure, a great many of them didn’t really turn me on at all but the ones that were a little more tender, at least in expression, even when the sex itself seemed challenging, really appealed to me. I knew they were actors but it was easy to imagine the girl completely dedicated to pleasing her Daddy and easy to imagine the man as a protector whose purpose in life was to care for his little girl. Sure, I was projecting what I wanted onto everything happening but I didn’t mind. It was a wonderful fantasy and as I did I began to believe it might even be a possible reality.

All I had to do was learn how to be a little girl.

All I had to do was get good at it.

And then I just had to find a Daddy.

The first one seemed relatively straightforward. I knew Kendra would help me learn. Getting good at it required practice and practice required a Daddy. Those two things seemed a whole lot harder. My mind went through a great many hoops and loops but when I finally closed my laptop, I found myself both emotionally aroused and physically aroused.

My thoughts immediately went to Mark, as they seemed to go every night. As I lay in bed that night, my hands wandered and as I touched myself, I envisioned him on top of me, beneath me and in just about every other possible position. The night was much like all of the other nights where I fantasized about Marcus and brought myself to a shuddering climax imagining him touching me, holding me, thrusting into me, and doing a great many other things.

The only real difference was in this fantasy I called him Daddy.