Daddy, Can I Write A Blog?

<Originally posted elsewhere on December 28th, 2008>


I like to think that I've been there, done that, and maybe smacked-it-up-and-flipped-it-down a time or two but there are still things in this world that I don't understand. 

I would probably call myself feather-kinky (as opposed to whole-chicken-kinky).  I like things a bit rough now and then and I've intentionally purchased bedroom furniture with more pressing concerns than wood grain.

I understand domination.  I understand submission.  And I know enough about the two to know that I'm a switch with submissive leanings.  What I DON'T understand are the lifestylers. 

I don't understand how these people function in this dynamic 24 hours a day.  Is it still about sex?  Is it like a never-ending game of dress-up with occasional spanking and nipple clamps? 

I know of one relationship dynamic where the sub has to check in with "Master" before making lunch plans.  Lunch plans.  Regular 'ole lunch plans without any hot wax, leg spreaders or St. Andrews crosses.  Diet Coke and a ham sandwich.  Really?  


Perhaps this makes me a terrible submissive or it makes me a grown-up with a complete lack of imagination.  I confess... being someone's sex toy can definitely be a good time but at some point, I'm going to want to get up off the floor, free my hair of the playful pigtails and make my own fucking sandwich. 

In this same culture, I hear the word "Daddy" a lot which squicks me on levels I cannot even articulate.  I absolutely have Daddy issues which probably doesn't help but Electra complexes aside, it just seems a wee bit nails-on-a-chalkboard-y. 

Call me strange, evolved or yet again, completely unimaginative but the most mileage I get out of "Daddy" is going to Home Depot with Stuart where I like to jump up and down like a 10 year old and loudly say "Daddy, can we buy something?"  This is fun mostly because it makes Stuart put his head down and walk very fast.  There is nothing sexual about it and at times, it is painful because my stomach hurts from laughing so hard.  

I've also noticed that people in the fetish community take themselves awfully seriously.  I don't get that either.  Fetishes are usually sexual, yes?  And isn't sex supposed to be fun?  What's with the gloom-and-doom and gas masks? I also fail to understand the purpose of goggles and coming from a burner who has actually used her goggles to protect her peepers at Burning Man, I find that aspect rather poser-y and fuckwitted.

Sniping aside, I really honestly don't get it.  Maybe it's one of those if-you-have-to-ask-then-you'll-never-understand things.  (Although I did ask about Burning Man and mushrooms before I tried either...  and I have to say, good call on the research.)  If one of my lovely comrades would care to school me in things fetishy and fantastic, I'm willing to learn.  I'm a pretty good student.  And I drop my pencil a lot.