What’s in a name?

When Daddy and I decided to become play partners and lovers, I almost immediately stumbled on the following question, “What should I call you?”

Yes, I know his name and sometimes I still address him as such when I’m being very serious but in the context of our play, of our intimacy I wanted something to call him and I was hoping he would find something to call me.

Truth be told, as soon as I thought of the question I knew what I wanted to call him – Daddy. I struggled with that. I was embarrassed to share that with him. Afraid he would think it was silly or didn’t “fit”. Our dynamic hadn’t really formed as yet so it wasn’t clear if we were going to be Daddy/little girl. After some prodding I “blurted” it in an email. To my relief and comfort Daddy was the perfect name and he was thrilled and honoured that I’d chosen to name him as such.

Now my name, my name Daddy struggled to find. I have a few but one has really stuck.

Now a big part of my relationship with Daddy is based on words – written and spoken. Communication, the used of language, our love of language binds us. So after much thought Daddy sent me the most incredibly thoughtful email to announce my nickname. Filled with quotes *swoons* (I’ve been collecting quotes for years now and I’m not sure I’d ever mentioned it to him until now).

A name pronounced is the recognition of the individual to whom it belongs. He who can pronounce my name right, he can call me, and is entitled to my love and service.  ~ Henry David Thoreau

One of the first names Daddy gave me was girlie girl (gg for short) – I am in many ways girlie. I order girlie drinks. I like to paint my nails. I love dresses. And stuffies. And heaven help someone who tries to muss my hair when it’s straight! And even now months later when I am being girlie, Daddy calls me by that name and it makes me smile. But as he said, it describes me but it doesn’t identify me.

You have but to know an object by its proper name for it to lose its dangerous magic. ~ Elias Canetti

Now it must be said that Daddy and I established very early on that every night I would be “tucked”. Every night, since April 1st, I get an email where Daddy “tucks” me in bed. Sometimes it’s a recap of our day, the issues we tackled, or sometimes it is full of lusty thoughts for our next adventure. It is always filled with warm words and love. And as I snuggle into bed, I drift off with the knowledge that I am loved and cared for.

‘What’s the use of their having names the Gnat said, ‘if they won’t answer to them?’
‘No use to them,’ said Alice; ‘but it’s useful to the people who name them, I suppose. If not, why do things have names at all?’
‘I can’t say,’ the Gnat replied. ~ Lewis Carroll

Now Daddy’s logic is brilliant, truly:

The derivation of the name I’ve chosen for you is “to torment, stretch [cloth]”. However, over time, it has evolved to have several additional meanings, including:
to fit snugly or neatly
to place somewhere safe or somewhat hidden
to pleat or fold and hold in place
to gather or draw together
to curl into position
something that I do to you most nights

I would like to call you “Tuck”.

Now having been wooed and swooning over the length of Daddy’s email. I won’t lie – “Tuck” landed like a brick in my head. I hated it. And while I didn’t say I hated it exactly, I let it be known, Tuck wasn’t really going to fly. It’s boyish and would be too easily confused with the act of being tucked every night. So what then?

Somehow, with a little more searching I named myself. You see I love to be the little spoon. Anyone who’s cuddled with me will tell you, getting me to be the big spoon is practically impossible. But it goes beyond being my favourite position to snuggle. You see, as Daddy’s submissive I take great pleasure in being little, in being cared of, in being made small for him. So I came to be known as Daddy’s little spoon. Sometimes he just calls me spoon or writes to his ls. All incarnations of that name make my heart beat a little faster and make me feel completely and utterly cared for in a way I’ve never really known before.

When I call him Daddy and when he calls me little spoon I know just how important a name can be.

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3 thoughts on “What’s in a name?

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