On being a Daddy

It's interesting, the places we find ourselves.

Lady and myself have always enjoyed a fairly hardline power dynamic--I top and she bottoms, in the many and varied senses of the terminology.

And you know, this leads me to many questions regarding patriarchy and my place in it--It's tough being a conscious feminist and being a straight, white male owner of a female slave. Essentially, I figure that Lady is the one who initiated this aspect of our relationship. And I'm not a Gorean, I don't require her complete and total servitude 24/7.

As a matter of fact, she delights in bratting up for me in the bedroom. Which is what led to our most recent paradigm shift.

She was rimming me one evening, mainly because I was reclining in a Jockstrap--she's got a bit of a thing for those, especially just after I work out. On an impulse, after she had referred to me as "Sir", a lightbulb went off and I took a leap.

"Call me 'Daddy', little girl."

She paused. Truth be told, I was afraid I had offended her or stepped over a line. I was wrong. She resumed her tounging with increased fervor, peppering it with "Oh Daddy, I love your ass" and things of the like. It was hotter than a two dollar pistol, as the man would say. That night showed a marked increase in the intensity and enjoyment of our fucking.

That's our dynamic now. When it comes to fun in the bedroom, she calls me "Daddy" at all times. Initially this gave me pause: It's "wierd", right? But no stranger than "Master" or "Sir". And this Daddy Dynamic really is a better fit for us: I enjoy spoiling her, disciplining her, and she enjoys the surrender of treating me like an authority figure. Her brat moments take a decidedly hotter turn when it comes time for punishment, mainly due to the fact that she has to explain herself to Daddy, she has to suffer her reddened cheeks under Daddies hand. It's hot as hell.

I know it seems perverted. That's because it is. But 'perverted' aint such a bad thing.

Edge City.

When do you figure that those of us in D/s type relationships take things too far? Is there a moment where you, as either the bottom or the top, take stock of things and decide, "Hey, maybe this is a little out there?"

I'm only asking because I feel like I came to this exact crossroads yesterday.

It should be stated, outright, that I am truly madly and deeply in love with my Lady. I would never do anything to her that we hadn't expressly planned and discussed prior to play. But, with that being said, a miniature Rubicon was crossed last night, and I'm not sure how to feel.

I cut her.

I cut her at her request, and very carefully, with a sterilized razor and proper aftercare.

But I cut her.

I understand that in the BDSM scene, this is considered a form of "edgeplay," or rather play that exceeds even the communities lax standards of acceptability. I also understand the inherent risks involved with cutting your lover up, chief among then in this area being the questions we'll be asked should any of these show in public.

I also understand that it was pretty fucking hot, and that Lady enjoyed it even more than I did.

There's always a conundrum with being the dominant of a relationship, because there is an expectation that you be somewhat self-assured, ready and willing to make sure that you get what you want. Sometimes, that pressure can be a bit much. This is one of those times. I want to vent my reservations, but I cant in good consience vent them to Lady. She's had such a tough time coming out of her shell and realizing that her sexuality is not a sin. To question her at this point would be tantamount to shaming her for having desire, which I flatly refuse to do.

But I just fear this puts us on a darker path than I had envisioned our sex lives to have. Then again, prior to this event she still liked me to flog her until beet-red, and choke her, and even some spit play. So perhaps our sex life isnt as golden and uplifting as I imagine it.

It's scuzzy and dirty and it all kind of has that pallor of darkness. Then again, I wouldnt have it any other way. So maybe I should stop worrying.

Whadda you think?