little

A Little Child

Folder: 
Poetry

Have to be a little child from my father,

Have to obey Cthulhu evermore.

And all bad things turned into dust,

By my evil and good Father.

Author's Notes/Comments: 

Some thoughts.

View mvtsicky666's Full Portfolio

Ode to the Little: A Person, Not a Paraphilia

Folder: 
DaddyO's BDSM

by DaddyO


I was recently asked what doesn't bring me joy when it comes to ageplay.

 

Since the Daddy/babygirl relationship and sexual play dynamic is what most floats my boat, I found it, at first, very difficult to answer.

 

"Nothing! I like it all."

 

Think again, DaddyO!

 

There was one thing that frustrated me...

 

Those ageplayers who do not do sexual ageplay.

 

This in no way means I don't agree 100% that they have every right to do non-sexual ageplay, it just means it frustrates me because well, for me it is sexual.

 

I know I have sometimes made ageplayers feel intimidated because Daddy/babygirl ageplay definitely springs from a sexual source for me.

 

But after some devastating trial and error which caused hurt to many people close to me, I have learned a valuable lesson:

 

To be a good Daddy one must come to the acceptance that, despite it appearing to be a sexual fetish/paraphilia, and regardless of how you, as a daddy, came about your interest in ageplay...

 

Age regression is NOT Sexual! 

 

Just like being a certain ethnicity is not sexual or having a certain color of eyes is not sexual. Hell, even being a certain sex is not sexual! Am I right?

 

I used to assume it was a given that Daddy/babygirl play was just a sexual fetish and unless specified by the little that they didn't want it to be sexual, it remained as such.

 

This isn't the case at all.

 

It is the opposite.

 

One must consider the little as a person NOT as a sexual fetish.

 

The "little" inside is a very precious and fragile part of a person's nature, so to be a good Daddy, I have learned to focus on the little's "little experience" solely as platonic and not assume that the little space that a babygirl enters into is a result of, or edict for, sexual play.

 

Just because it is a high ranking fetish for me should not override that fact that it can (and often does) mean it is something entirely different for her.

Author's Notes/Comments: 

2013 

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A Little Child

Folder: 
Poetry

Have to be a little child from my Father,

Have to obey Cthulhu evermore.

And all bad things turned into dust,

By my Evil and Good Father from Beyond.

Author's Notes/Comments: 

Some thoughts.

View sicky666x's Full Portfolio

A Little Child

Folder: 
Poetry

Have to be a little child from my father,

Have to obey Cthulhu evermore.

And all bad things turned into dust,

By my evil and good Father.

Author's Notes/Comments: 

Some thoughts.

View sicky666_zero's Full Portfolio

A Little Child

Folder: 
Thoughts

Have to be a little child from my father,

Have to obey Cthulhu evermore.

And all bad things turned into dust,

By my evil and good Father.

Author's Notes/Comments: 

Some thoughts I had.

View sickyx666's Full Portfolio

A Little Child

Folder: 
Poetry

Have to be a little child from my father,

Have to obey Cthulhu evermore.

And all bad things turned into dust,

By my evil and good Father.

Author's Notes/Comments: 

Some thoughts.

View missnecrosica's Full Portfolio

Small Things

I always notice the small things about you

The nice things

Like the way your eyes light up

When you talk about something you’re passionate about

 

Or how you always seem to acknowledge me

When you pass me in the hall

 

And how you look at me with a genuine look of concern

In a way no one else ever has

 

But there are also the bad things

Like how you get angry sometimes

When you’re pushed too far

 

Or how you always seem to get sick

Even when it’s sunny outside

 

And how sometimes when you think no one is looking

Your eyes get sad

And you look as if you’re going to cry

 

And then there are the insignificant things

Like how you always play with your hands

Especially the ring on your right

 

Or how you move your arms a lot

When talking to someone

 

And how you always seem to care about everyone

Even if you don’t like them

 

 

                                                                                                c.h

View xkatrinna's Full Portfolio

Orange Little Ball

An orange little ball,
Tattered and torn to bits,
No longer does it fly straight,
Its course lost, its path in fits,

 

An orange little ball,
Sad within its cracks and in its creases,
Faded bumps, its lost its grip,
It now falls to pieces,

 

Orange little ball,
Come to death smiling,
Never live just to die,
Happiness lives in and amidst the crying,

 

Orange little ball,
Wipe the tears away,
There is peace to be found,
In and amongst the fray.

View krada's Full Portfolio