IN WHICH SHE SEES THAT THINGS SOMETIMES JUST GO WRONG

How are we meant to respond as a slave/submissive/babygirl type when we're asked to do something and we know it's the wrong thing to be doing?

I'm not talking about the "I want you to take this gun and shoot that person" scenario that is so often the rhetoric of those who are opposed to (or who don't understand..) the ideas behind TPE.  I'm thinking about a real situation when you have been told to do something that is going to have negative consequences for not only yourself, but for your master and for the relationship between the two of you.

I used to think that I knew the answer to this question - I mean, it was easy... the relationship dynamic is based on trust and surrender on the part of the slave.  This means that even though I might not be able to see the reasoning behind a decision, I have to know that my master has the goal in mind and I have to follow.

I just have to have faith and surrender.

What I didn't really consider is that there might be times when he simply makes a poor decision about how to get to that goal, and as a consequence of that decision things fall apart.

How should I behave when I can see what the result of a decision is going to be, and I can see that its going to be bad?

I think that until now I only knew half of the answer.  Yes - this dynamic is about trust and surrender... but the aspect that I was missing is that it is also about the acceptance of consequences.

So, I have faith and I surrender.

And when things fall apart because I have obeyed his will, which is the good, right and true thing for a slave to do, I will accept the consequences of my obedience.

Sometimes the consequences are hearing the words "good girl."  And sometimes the consequences are that things just fall apart.

If things break, it doesn't necessarily mean that I failed.. sometimes things just break.

IN WHICH SHE TALKS ABOUT HER FEAR OF SUBMITTING

I'm an extremely self-disciplined person.  I've had to be.  Not only have I developed this self-discipline as a means to prepare myself to serve, but it's been a resource that I've been able to rely on to keep me sane and focused during the long long time since I've had a daddy.

Now I find myself in a strange position where the thought of surrendering that control really is quite terrifying.

If I hand over my hard won self-control to a dominant, then everything about me could fall to pieces in a heartbeat, meaning that I would no longer have the ability to serve.  If I didn't have the ability to serve my dominant, then not only have I failed in what I'm trying to do for him, but I wouldn't be useful at all.  If I don't have a purpose and I can't serve and be useful, then why would my dominant want to own me?  And if my dominant didn't want to own me, then that leaves me in a precarious position where I have no control over myself because I've surrendered it, and no dominant to lend me focus and structure, to give me purpose, to find me useful.  It would leave me having given up control over myself, looking to where he is standing for some sort of focus and finding that he has left.

So, I suppose the question stands... how do you surrender all control to someone without falling apart?

IN WHICH SHE ANSWERS A QUESTION ABOUT WHY SHE IS A BABYGIRL

I have been asked a question in a comment on a previous post and wanted to write an entry in response to it. But, because I am such a bad blogger (Bad Blogger! No biscuit!) it has taken me an age to get around to posting here again, and to answering the question posed to me. The comment was posted by beautifullyhuman in response to this post about myths surrounding the babygirl dynamic.

I would like to know why do you consider yourself a baby girl, instead of a little girl, or would you consider yourself an Adult child like? Sincerely, bh

By beautifullyhuman

When I talk about myself as a babygirl I do so with a very specific definition in mind. I’ve talked about my personal definitions of different lifestyle dynamics in this post. Basically, my idea of being a babygirl has nothing really to do with regression (although, I have gone through an hypnotic age regression process which I found amazing, but perhaps more about that in another post), with episodic events of childlike behaviours (some people refer to this as being little or letting their little come out to play) or with any sort of age-play.

To me, being a babygirl is about the very sacred and primal archetype of belonging. I deeply feel that need to belong and to make myself of use. It wasn’t until about 8 years ago that I started to realise that this feeling was pointing towards the fact that I am a babygirl.

I used to chat on Yahoo.com quite often. There was a room there called ‘Women Who Want To Be Dominated’, and I used to frequent it, not as a woman who wanted to be dominted, but as a woman who wanted to dominate. Things in that room became quite strange after a while, and in an attempt to get away from it and away from that entire mainstream D/s idea, I popped into a room called ‘Daddydoms and babygirls’.

While in this room I met a number of people who were extremely enjoyable to spend time with. One of these people was A, and he and I started speaking via private message. It was amazing to be able to speak to someone who understood the higher philosophical ideas behind dominance and submission, someone who understood that part of the role of a dominant was to actually submit to these ideals, and that a master was ultimately called to master himself. The conversation progressed to a discussion about the Daddy/babygirl dynamic and what it all meant. I had never encountered it before, and was already struggling with the idea that I might just not be a dominant at all. I could look back on my life and see a pattern of wanting to serve and please – even my dominance was motivated by serving the submissive’s pleasure – now I see that this wasn’t actually dominance. After thinking for a long time about the DD/bg dynamic, and taking time to work through the stigma around incest and child abuse that the concept naturally brings to mind, I worked out that I wanted a Daddy. But, even more than wanting a Daddy was the fact that I wanted to SERVE a Daddy.

I want to be found precious and useful. I want to be humbled and realise my place as being lower than the dirt on the ground at his feet. It isn’t about diapers and pacifiers, pouting and play for me. It is about knowing my right place, and worshipping my Daddy as my Lord and Master.

IN WHICH SHE SENDS GLITTERY LOVE TO HER SISTER

Today I saw something that was at once heartbreaking and at the same time humbling and yet so inspiring.

I have joined a Fetlife.com group, a Facebook page and a Twitter group called BabygirlsUnlocked. It has been an amazing couple of weeks since discovering this group of babygirls from all ends of the globe. I have been speaking with them and listening to them and are becoming more and more inspired by them to live an exciting and beautiful life.

Today, one of the girls in the group asked a question about what a babygirl should do if she felt wrongfully disrespected by her Daddy. I was not online when the question was asked, and in a way I am glad that I wasn't.

My initial reaction was to post something along the lines of 'well, I am a slave as well as a babygirl, so for me I am not sure that I could be wrongfully disrespected by my Daddy/Master.' Instead of tritely answering with something like that, I read the almost 30 replies to her post. These replies were not from people who just threw their answers into the fray. They were on the most part not even answers - they were questions. The other babygirls in the group, her babygirl sisters, were asking her what had happened, how did she feel, if she was alright. There was an abundance of love and comfort shown to this babygirl by her sisters. It was inspiring to see it, and it has humbled me to a place where I want to begin taking notice of my response to people. I want to stop solving and start caring. And I will do that.

The reason that it was also heartbreaking is because this lovely and vibrant babygirl seems to have lost her Daddy and not because of anything that she did wrong. Also, from the little that I could tell from the messages that she posted, her Daddy seems to have acted very unfairly. Seeing that all of this happened made me feel so stabstabstabby, and it wasn't happening to me. The babygirl responded to all of her sorrow and pain in such a respectful and gracious way that it made me want to wrap her up in a blanket and make her cups of tea, to make a safe space for her to be able to grieve and be angry if she wanted, but mostly it made me want to talk with her more in the future, to learn more about her and to learn more from her.

You, my lovely girl... my gentle beautiful sister... you are inspiring and brilliant. Thank you for that.

IN WHICH SHE DISCUSSES SOME MYTHS ABOUT BEING A BABYGIRL

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IN WHICH SHE TALKS ABOUT REMEMBERING HER PLACE

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IN WHICH SHE CONTEMPLATES COMPLACENCY AND TRIES TO SAY THAT FIVE TIMES FAST

I have been spending a bit of time on Fetlife.com - oh, what a delight that has been. I am constantly surprised at not only the misunderstanding that people on the bullitin boards show, but also the lack of willingness to either learn or to examine their own ideas that they show.

I hope that I never become that complacent and stagnant in my understanding of D/s, and especially the Daddy/babygirl dynamic.

IN WHICH SHE PONDERS THE CHANGES SHE IS GOING THROUGH

I am working on myself. With the help of A, I am becoming a more attentive person, a calmer person, someone who is more centered and less afraid and who is happier and excited about life.

A is interested and involved in neuro-linguistic programming (NLP). Google it, it is fascinating. When he was first speaking to me about it I had doubts. I was concerned that it was hokum. I was worried that it was some strange new-age rubbish. And I was confused as to how the wisest and most intelligent person I have ever known would fall for something so obviously rubbish. But, at the same time, because I know A, I trusted him. I knew that it was my understanding of the situation that was wrong... and it turned out that I was right. Not about the hokum, but about my misunderstanding.

NLP works.

I have seen over and over again in my life changes that I have been able to make with NLP. It has helped me find resources that I never realised were at my disposal. It has almost cured me of a phobia that I have suffered with ever since being a child. It has helped me find that sense of wonder and excitement that I knew when I was young. It has taught me how to sleep. It has helped me be less anxious and less depressed. It has taught me to be amazing!

I am becoming a different person. And I really really like the person that I am becoming. It has been a long long time since I liked the person that I am.

I can't even communicate how thankful I am to the people who created and have worked on NLP.

And to the amazing man who realised its truth and showed it to me.

Thank you, A. Once again you have saved me in ways that you will possibly never know.

IN WHICH SHE THINKS ABOUT SUBMISSION AND SURRENDER

Lately I have found that I bristle at the words 'submissive' and 'submission'. I think the reason they get to me is because I find them totally inadequate to describe the process that I am going through as a slave. 'Surrender' is a beautiful word. It holds the idea of following one's Master so completely that there isn't a thought about following his direction. His will and one's action follow as effortlessly as a breath in and a breath out. The fact that he wills something almost in itself creates one's obedience because you only have to know what he wants for you to obey. 'Submission' holds the implication that one thought about whether or not she should follow a command and that there was some possibility, however small, of it not being followed. It implies that there was a choice on one's part as to whether or not she would obey. It is the breath taken in with the idea that it might never be released.

IN WHICH SHE DISCOVERS HER LAUGH

He speaks to me 

in words and silences 

that take me places 

I have never imagined. 

Places where I am happy 

and carefree.   Places where 

I respond to his words 

without thought and without need.  

Places where there is nothing 

but his will.  

His will and my obedience, 

and my obedience is pleasure.

He teaches me the lessons he wants me to learn and I learn them well.

IN WHICH SHE STEPS INTO VIEW

Let me start off by saying that I can now be a lot more open and vulnerable with my writing because my entries aren’t being proof-read by J anymore. He didn’t like me sharing intimate details, which I found difficult to do because I don’t really keep these blogs for an audience, I keep them to sort out my thoughts and feelings. I like being able to be totally honest here

So, now that J is more or less out of the picture, there was, of course, the ‘still be friends’ discussion, but I can’t really see that happening… I thought perhaps some back ground might be a little helpful.

Who Am I?

I know all about labels and their inaccuracy, and I don’t get caught up in them, but I find that they do give people a starting point when they are trying to get to know you.

I’m a 35 years old woman who identifies herself as being queer, and has for as long as she knew what the definition of queer was.

I call myself a lesbian, dyke, queer, and various other things but at times I find myself wondering about the accuracy of my self view.

I spent a long time on the Dominant side of the BDSM fence, and now find myself well put on the submissive side, so much so that I find I have a lot of slave like tendencies rather than submissive ones. I am very interested in the Daddydom/babygirl aspect of the lifestyle, I know that comes as a shocking surprise when you consider the title of my blog and my ID.

I am in a long term, but open (within certain boundaries) relationship with a bisexual woman who is two years my younger, sexy, intelligent, humorous and occasionally so frustrating that I could spank the arse off her. And have done. We rent a lovely house in regional NSW and share it with our 2 dogs, 3 cats and 3 ferrets. All we need is one more dog and one more lesbian and we’d have balanced numbers.

I paint, write, draw and am slowly learning to enjoy gardening. Our house has fruit trees in the back yard and I have discovered there is an amazing difference between the taste of freshly picked and sun warm fruit and what you can buy in the supermarket.

I am pierced, inked, shaved and dyed; and as someone at work keenly observed, I am trying to look different.

I work as a nurse, which I enjoy immensely except when you bring hospital and Area Health Service politics into the picture. Occasionally I get fed up with nursing and state that I wish I was a florist, but I don’t really. Really I wish I was a musician. Or an author. Or a stay-at-home mother. Perhaps a pilot. It depends on what day it is.

I am addicted and addictive.

A devout heretic and deliciously destructive.

I am the most truthful liar that you will ever meet.

Now watch as I get to be myself again.

IN WHICH THERE IS AN EARLY CLOSURE TO A SHORT AFFAIR

I know that I am frustrating at times.  I know that I can be hard to understand.  But I also would have thought that by telling somebody that I wasn't comfortable with sex that person might understand it meant more than being uncomfortable with just 'penis-in-vagina' sex.

I would have thought that he, more than anyone, would at least try to understand what it all meant.  But he didn't even ask about it.  I brought the topic up multiple times, trying to be defferential to what he wanted to speak about and being careful that I didn't seem like I was trying to 'top' in any way.  However, in the end I had to say something, I had to tell him that I didn't think that it was going to work and that I didn't want to be a waste of his time or energy.

I don't have a Daddy anymore.

On the positive side of the coin, though... I still have a friend (who shall now be known as J).  He and T are still getting their 'kink' on.  And we saved a gorgeous dog from being put down.

More on that later...

IN WHICH THINGS BECOME A LITTLE BIT SCARY

It is getting close to the time when Daddy will come to visit for the first time.  Well, that is not entirely true.  It will be the first time that he will come to visit as my Daddy.  To quote Debi from Grosse Point Blank, "What is this I'm feeling? Is it pain? Panic? Hunger? Am I hungry? Who's hungry?"  I'm still trying to work out what the answer to all of those would be.  I know that I'm feeling nervous, but I wouldn't say that it is panic.  Pain?  Not yet, but hopefully when Daddy visits there will be.  Hungry?  Very very.

I'm most nervous about being able to please him.  I have mentioned this on a few occasions to him and he is reassuring and tells me that he is certain that he will be pleased.  He tells me that the only thing I have to concentrate on is doing what he tells me.  I need to let myself remember that - all I have to do is what Daddy tells me, and Daddy will take care of everything else.  Daddy will take care of everything.  Daddy will take care of me.

I think that the plan is for him to come to visit before Christmas and on a day that T is working, so that we can spend the day together and then the three of us can send the evening together once T arrives home.  Daddy with his two girls.

Today is the 15th of December.  Tomorrow I am working.  The 20th and 21st are a weekend.  T and I are leaving to visit family on Christmas Eve.  This leaves 5 days for him to visit.  And it is going to possibly happen at some stage in the next 10 days.

Oh my.

And there's the panic.

IN WHICH DADDY'S GIRL FEELS DISHONEST

I felt dishonest.

There was nothing intimate between A and I, although there had been a long while ago. We were close friends and had discussed things thoroughly, with us both deciding that there was no option for us to be anything more than friends. However, for some reason I still felt as though I was lying by omission having not told A about Daddy.

I explained this to Daddy and told him that I didn’t feel that I could really call him my Daddy honestly until I had talked to A about it all.

His answer was to tell me that he understood.

I really wasn’t expecting that.