This is a shot of my desk at work today. I think a good sign of my recovery is the reemergence of my little.
It seems like forever since I spoke to you about little Nicole. She is just as much a part of me as the succubus and just as intoxicating.
in the absence of a relationship where a man inspires that part of me, well I suppose a woman could as well…
I have missed little Nicole.
She last roamed free at the inaugural Weekend Reunion. No she didn’t have her Daddy then, but she felt loved enough and safe enough in that space to allow others to glimpse her. She really is amazing. She is all the innocence I can no longer pretend to wear and all of the hope and wonder life consistently tries to beat out of me. She is unburdened except when you make her wear shoes. She is the most vulnerable part of a vulnerable me.
Like many of these titles that people are wearing in the kink world these days I was a ‘little’ before ‘littles’ were cool. I have The Man to thank for that.
He’s consistently inspired my 11 year old self in my adult body since our first kiss. If he appeared right now I have no doubt that she would emerge to meet him. He is Daddy after all.
In many ways I still crave a Daddy, someone to let my little exist in the same space as my adult. It’s hard to bring forth, I have to trust you in a manner I am unsure I still can.
Well mostly.
I keep my crayons and my stickers and surround myself with Hello Kitty to remind her that I know she is there and I have not forgotten her. I feed her candy and find ways to giggle to let her know there are still places she can exist.
There have been others since The Man who worked to be called Daddy. 2 specifically. 1 got that title because I simply didn’t know how to call one I served anything else, it was that ingrained within. The second views himself as a Daddy, and just maybe he is for another but his inability to protect and relate to my little made it more a formality than reality.
Then there was August 4. Yep it’s been quite some time since I mentioned him and with good reason. Not unlike The Man this is a person who touched that part of me no one does and because of that is incredibly dangerous for me.
The box of coloring books and crayons have been in the truck for a few weeks now. I was triggered this morning to bring some of them into the office. My assumption was I just needed to let her out to breathe. In reality she sensed proximity and reminded me of that which I am missing at the moment.
August 4 is going to be in town in a few days. I am going to see him. We haven’t picked the day yet, and my schedule is unusually booked but I know he will summon and I know I will kneel.
I referred to him to someone as OURS. She balked at the concept. She doesn’t understand the connection, the compulsion. She doesn’t understand the need.
As I think of it this really could become – or would were he not returning to the West Coast – something that drives a wedge with us. I don’t have time to entertain that though, I have to find someone to wax my vagina. August 4 hates pubic hair.
Aphrodite Brown