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How To Be A Good Little in DDlg 

The term Little describes the submissive or childlike half in the DDLG dynamic. The Little is also known as baby girls/boys and the submissive partner in other quarters. 

Daddies/Mommies who round up as the caregivers are allowed to come up with their preferred nicknames for their submissive halves. Most common nicknames include; darling, baby, princes e.t.c. A Little can be of any age and also gender. 

The Little can be just a new adult having turned 18 years or a well-renowned CEO. Also, the term is not gender specific as a man can be the Little girl, and a woman can be a baby boy. Again, there are no set rules, and each Little has his/her character and setting. 

The Little can be an individual that’s young at heart or one who assumes the role without enjoying childish things and finally a Little can be an individual that appreciates and loves childlike aspects. 

Again there are Littles that enjoy the ‘subspace’ while there are Littles that enjoy ‘Little Space’ while there are Littles that enjoy these two aspects. In a nutshell, Littles are attracted to and desire dominant partners that assume the role of a parent or an authoritative figure in the relationship. 

Being A Good Little 

Being a Little isn’t about becoming a different individual for someone. The act itself is a personal journey that shouldn’t be defined whether the little is single or in a relationship. 

Littles are supposed to explore what makes them happy first while having caregiver will be taken by the thing that makes the little happy and themselves. 

The whole point is; there exists no good little as each Little is different and the relationship doctrines dictate that every individual in the connection should make their own rules for happiness. 

One thing that safeguards the Little is that they always find a Daddy that loves and cares for them because of whom they’re as opposed to whom they seem as. An excellent Little can be submissive to the Daddy but still hold an opinion, have likes and dislikes and also needs. 


Being an excellent Little doesn’t require one to change themselves, being natural and yourself is all it takes to make an excellent Little. 

Being natural will attract a caregiver that will hold you to be adorable as one is, setting rules for self and rewarding self for following said rules is an accurate way of being an excellent Little! 

ddlgme Yesterday, 06:50PM · Rate: 5


SkullDaddy Yesterday, 04:51PM
If I asked the average person what they think the atmosphere of a psychiatric hospital full of depressed mentally-ill patients were like they’d probably think “Oh well, it’s not that hard of a question. Surely the atmosphere would be absolutely dismal,” but in my experiences nothing could be further from the truth.

Depression. In my head was a droning of a drum with each bang of the rawhide came an urge to acknowledge it. The drum in my head demanded to be heard. It wanted attention. O, the foreboding thoughts, how frigid and dense they were. Through the silence, they were absolutely deafening. I felt the need to distract myself anyway, anyhow! And in those moments I sought escape.

I craved distraction. And though I found myself needing it, my body was drained of energy and power. I wanted to move. I ordered it to move but my body just wouldn’t go. I started laying in bed all day unable to do anything.

Sleep became a sanctuary for me. Oh! how pleasant my dreams were. Fictional realities where all my past mistakes were undone. All my wishes came true in that distant land. But there was no worse of a feeling than to wake up. As if suffering from a state of withdrawal, exposure to such happiness just leads to disarray when it ends. They hurt far worse than the nightmares where I relived my past as I became accepting, at least to some extent, when I woke up about how things were.

Then it stopped. My chemical imbalance became overdosed. I felt as if I my heart couldn’t take any more and started growing desensitized to it all. I had brief periods where I felt literally nothing at all. The thoughts which usually made me like that of Niobe when she lost her fourteen daughters and sons felt like nothing. And it was absolutely terrifying. Some might think “Well, you aren’t feeling depressed anymore, so isn’t that positive?” But I was terrified that I wouldn’t be able to feel love and passion. I loved to help others and I wanted to feel happy, but I had no sympathy left to give. I was a borderline sociopath.

So I found feeling. I did so in the most unhealthy way possible...in the form of a blade. I needed to feel something. God, how I wanted to feel anything. I slashed over and over until the pain overwhelmed me. The stinging sensation. It was my drug. It kept me alive. Self destruction became a means of self-preservation.

I became desperate. I needed help. I was told it over and over to get it. But what could they do to help my case? But that’s the worst part about life. Therapy isn’t mainly about changing your situation, though they can help it is limited, it’s about accepting your emotions and condition. I had a sense of worthlessness rooted deep inside me, and I doubted they could help me.

It started in middle school. That was when I recognized I was a black sheep. I never found myself entertained by what typical kids found themselves drawn to. I was different. Cars, sports, celebrities, television, books. They had no place in my life. To make matters worse, I was biologically introverted and my ADHD medication made me into an emotionless robot. Not only that, but the medication worked a little too well. It would turn my attention into hyper focus on negative thoughts. I never had many friends because of it, I had very pessimistic goals all my life. My goal as a middle schooler was to grow up alone and die alone. Then came salt to the wound, I changed schools constantly. Even in recent years I changed schools my senior year. I was alone. I could go months without a single text from somebody. I always loved to listen more than I talked, but I hated it. I wish I could contribute more, maybe if I could I would have more friends. Those thoughts rang in my mind on repeat over and over.

Despite the odds and my unhealthy nature, I found a girl friend. The start of the relationship was phenomenal, and I started to become obsessed with her. I grew to be controlling because I was absolutely mortified of the thought of losing her. I made myself the focus of her life. It was by far the biggest regret of my life. You never really understand how much someone means to you until you lose it. We lasted 9 months. All it took was one final drop in the bucket to finally tip me over the edge. That is when I first considered myself depressed.

However, no matter how harrowing my emotions became, no one ever found out I was depressed until I got caught with cuts. I put on this stone mask set in a smile on. I became fake, as if I was an actor in a play. My mask was just another accessory of this grand show. I acted the part perfectly. Nobody could see past my smile.

I hid my jealousy. I was envious of everyone elses skills and abilities. Their raw talent made me feel so worthless. I wish I could paint like her. He’s so funny why can’t I be like that. He can do math so much better than me. There were people who seemed to outperform me in almost every way which made me unexplainably dead inside. I was my own worst enemy.

Maybe I hid how I felt because I didn’t want to be a burden to everyone else. But I believe I know a more likely answer now. I was too attached to my own reputation and pride. I felt like being emotional would just make me seem weak. I was scared that my “friends” would leave me if I was always depressed. My anxiety set in and I constantly thought about how long it would take for them to give up on me. I pushed people away from myself, so I wouldn’t waste their time and effort.

I attempted taking my life for the first time when my mother got extremely concerned about my grades dropping tremendously. I intentionally threw my life away to motivate myself to end it. I jumped in my schools pond and sank. It was only then that a friend of mine came running out calling my name which, for some reason, led me to swim upwards. This was when I first got sent to a psychiatric hospital.

(This is the first post of a three part blog. If you read this so far I must thank you for taking the time to actually get to know me and my experience. I appreciate it.)
Snuggleufagus Yesterday, 02:04PM · Comments: 1

For all those who complain about not receiving any attention, I'll give you my side of the picture. I grew up as a decent looking kid until puberty hit me the hardest. I was brought up in a parochial school with one hallway to grades 1st through 8th, with a pre-k and kindergarten wing off to the side. Everyone knew everyone, and the only people that would stand out were the new kids. We were all family. It was taboo to date anyone because we've seen each other grow since we were 5 years old. Everyone was too shy or mean to show true feelings. Most of us took this as if we weren't interesting, attractive or worth anything. 

When high school came around, it was a bigger environment with many different faces. I was at the bottom of the social pyramid because I didn't know anyone, especially as a freshman. I was also receiving many compliments. My acne was gone and often covered up by Neutrogena cover up. It was embarrassing, but it helped me get through the judgemental people. Over the years, I received notes from different people. One said she got tingly inside every time I went by her lunch table. The other asked what do I think about her, and would she ever get a chance with me. I was always treated as, "Guys like you  ..." Like me? What does that even mean? What kind of guy am I? They always treated me like they were out of MY league. 

I was a different kind of student. I studied multiple languages. The teachers loved me. I was always a "pleasure to have in class" on my progress reports. I had perfect attendance. My grades weren't super, but they were mediocre. The teachers knew I could have applied better. I never gave myself enough credit. I still don't. Over the years, education has always pushed people away. I was either too smart for someone. My appearance never helped either. That's why I was told I deserve better. I made them feel inferior. They couldn't stimulate me intellectually, and I often overwhelmed them with knowledge. I was always telling myself I was not good enough. But now I realize, they weren't good enough for me. They take my appearance and intelligence as intimidating. 

I write stories, poems, and watch chick flicks. I watched A Walk to Remember and The Notebook in one night with an ex because she never saw either of them. I am the guy who will look up at the stars during a February cold night to show you the Orion. Nobody ever appreciated that. Not because I wasn't good enough, but because they weren't good enough for me. 

Don't ever assume that attractive people have the best going for them. Don't ever assume that attention is affection, or affection is good attention. In the past 24 hours, I was asked by 20 different people to stop posting my kitten photos and videos and to start posting more selfies in my story. Why? My kitten is cute af, but that doesn't matter to them. They want to see me. They want to see other parts of me that they know are exceptionally nice to look at. I don't go to the gym. I don't take my shirt off at the beach. I am now living in Florida. I still don't take my shirt off. Stop treating me differently. Stop assuming the attention I receive is good. It's not good. It's annoying. I've always wished to go back to my days when I had volcanic pimples erupting from my face. If I shaved my beard off, I am still attractive. 

What do I do? 

I learn to accept it. 

I write on my profile that I am not looking, and I still get requests. On Snapchat. On Kik. On here. 

What do I do? 

I learn to accept it. 

The moment when I realized that I am fairly decent to the eyes. I embrace it. I take it. There are days when I look into the mirror to say, "This is you. This is us. I appreciate you. You're handsome. I love you." 

And then it hits


The image on the mirror becomes even more genuine. It's a face that cracked, broke free, and emotions start pouring out. It's a moment when I can't stand to look down at the floor, and I watch the guy in the mirror cry with me. With me. 

Please take a moment. 

Compliment on someone's abilities. 

Compliment on someone's talents. 

Compliment why someone makes you smile. 

Don't you ever focus on appearance. 

Don't you ever ask for selfies. 

Appreciate them for them. 



For Them. 

PrinzeCharming Yesterday, 11:33AM · Rate: 5 · Comments: 4 · Tags: self, advice, acceptance, vent, blogging
ruby a f-cking demon
ruby got the cuff now, who’s tryna bluff now?
will it be resolved? never, b-tch i ‘m from a small town
turned into a demon, i’m evolved now
loud growls, snow leopard on the prowl
stay the f-ck back hoes
slay the whole pack hoe
paint it all black hoe
soon i will shed this skin, turn to the devil then i’ll never reminisce


Sometimes I wonder if it is wrong to miss an ex. He treated me OK but then he barley touched me. Is it wrong to want to be treated right. Even though I am a tomboy, I am still a woman and want to be treated like one. I just want to matter to someone. Be someones baby girl. When I hung out with my friend Adrian, he treated me like a person, like I mattered and didn't treat me like I was going to break. He knew that I had some trauma in my past, but didn't treat me any different. I want someone to treat me like a person, and that I matter and comfort me when I am scared. But I don't know if I will ever get that. 
Hi everyone. I'm new to this site and never know what to say. I'm 32yrs old from the UK and single. If you wanted to know any more or wanted to chat please don't be shy just drop me a message. 
MrCadet Oct 16 · Tags: new to site
He stood paralyzed.
A sense of lifelessness was shown on his visage, his eyes deadened towards a distant silhouette as one does when brooding.
Vitality seemed to drain out of his limbs as if he were to collapse at any moment held still only by the stiffness from the shock.
The same three words reverberated in his mind on repeat in a cycle.
From his lips came three words feebly and apathetically.
These six words, juxtaposed in conversation, left an equally antithetical situation.
While the one who spoke first was left like a statue, heartbroken, the other carried on relieved.
The same three words spoken...
“I am sorry.”
slowly slipped out his mouth.
While the other three words rang clearly in his head.
I’m sorry.
I fucked up.
I am a mistake.
I hate that I hurt you.
I hate how things turned out.
I hate my pride.
You were everything to me.
You gave me life.
You gave me meaning.
And with that she studded off down the street lamp-lit walk way.
While her figure got farther and farther from him, he let one thought interrupt his head.
For a split second, he would notice that as her figure moved closer toward a lone car’s headlight, her shadow would become closer and closer to him.
When I first saw your face for the first time my eyes lit up with ecstasy. You were more beautiful than I could have ever imagined. And I looked down at you in my arms you were so small,  you were so fragile,  you were like glass just one movement and you could be dead. I vowed from that day forward to protect you,  I wanted to protect you from the world,  from everything bad and evil and everything that would hurt you in an instance. But as time grew on and you got older, I realised that you didn't need my protection you had so many people to look after you and take care of you. You were surrounded by the love and protection of others. Here I am talking about you feeling the amount of love I have to protect you, you need me as your sister to protect you someone to have your back when no one else will. Someone who will help to pick you up and care for you when you are down. Because unlike me you have everyone to protect you but you only have one sister and that one sister will protect you with her life no matter if it kills her. Because a sisters love is not nothing it is the world my little fairy. 

Little_Wolfiee Oct 15 · Tags: love, sister
It completely escapes me why someone would give advice they completely ignore themselves, but I see it happen over and over. Frankly, it can be perceived in an insulting manner. Too many times do I see a depressed, unhealthy person connect with another depressed, unhealthy person. Typically, in these relationships one individual would try to help improve the life of the other. This is what they call in therapy a “trauma bond,” a type of relationship built on shared traumatic experiences or feelings. Ultimately this is an extremely unhealthy type of relationship as it is built on past experiences rather than current connections. The likliehood of one triggering the other is highly increased since both are in an unhealthy mental state over the same scenario. But how could one help the other if they can’t help themselves out of the bad mental state!? Wouldn’t one just be giving advice that didn’t work for themselves? How can you remove the speck from one person’s eye without removing the plank from your own? Or are they trying to say “this advice would work for you because your situation is less severe than mine.” Or maybe they think they are too weak themselves to execute the advice but assume the other is strong enough to. Again, making assumptions about the other is never a good way to produce advice. Don’t you see how that can be insulting? For those rare occasions that they do work out, the relationship is then built on a principle called “Nurses syndrome” where one likes the other since they can take care of them. Again, an extremely unhealthy and unstable type of relationship. I behoove those who are unhealthy, not to try to enter a relationship with someone else unhealthy. It is just a recipe for disaster even if you just want to help.
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