So what happens when she stops being yours?

There were times when I thought that I was lying back on Cloud 9, a glass of wine in one hand, a book in the other, with my feet propped up on the back of a beautiful little...girl. She was mine, in the deepest, most sincere meaning of the word. She would be mine, forever, my sweet little girl, my sweet Lolita. We had talked of how things would be in the future, what would become of us as we aged, and she would curl up against me, giggle, and say things like, "Will you still love me when I'm all old and wrinkly?" I would then stroke her hair, smirk, and whisper, "Yes. I will always love my little girl."

When a man becomes a young lady's father, it is hard for him to ever let her go. No matter how many times she repeats the words, "I don't love you," "I don't want you," "I don't need you," he cannot see her as anything but his. The way she leads him on with her whines and tears gives him hope that something's there. But when there isn't, what is there for him to do? What about the little girl who used to have a daddy there for her? What happens to their lives, and how do they change? How do either of them move on?

There are times that I miss being a father. But then it comes back to me, and people say to me, "Isn't that what you wanted, though? For her to grow up, be an independent adult, for her to make you proud?" It is strange, how she is so happy without me, and how I now feel so unhappy. I suppose that I am unhappy because she is happy without me, something that I hate to admit. That she could live without me at all makes me feel as if everything that we supposedly were was a lie.

When does a daughter walk out on her father?

Well, look at a person whose daughter is their biological daughter. Look at runaways. Abuse—most times, abuse is the reason why a child would run away from home. But there is also that hint of being a teenager, of being stubborn, obnoxious, and wanting to be rebellious against the very people who put a roof over their head, buy them clothing and food.

For a father/daughter, Daddy/little girl, whatever you want to call it, relationship, it's no different—if the lifestyle is 24/7, every moment of every day, then the little girl is truly a little girl, with the mindset of a child. There is no roleplaying. There is no turning on and turning off the child in them. They simply are a child, and a daughter, to the father.

With Little Girl (I call her that now, because if I were to call her "mine," it would be incorrect—she still is, however, a little girl, and I'm not going to be rude and say that she isn't), I apparently was abusive of her and, as she termed it, "mean." I was a "mean daddy," and sometimes she would go so far as to say that I wasn't a daddy at all, just a jerk and an asshole. That was the teenager in her coming out, the angry, pissed off, "Parents are fuckheads and should all die" type of mentality.

Because I was "abusive and mean," she would do things to irk me and get on my bad side. It first started with her being blatantly disobedient. Then things escalated, and she started seeing other people. Then she finally, physically, cheated on me.

I believe that a part of me died that night that she told me that she had slept with someone else. I had been waiting for her, all night, to get home from work. I was going to call her, actually, and ask if everything was alright. I was worried that her and her mother had gotten into a car accident. But I did not call—I figured, "She'll call me if anything's wrong." And I figured, "Maybe work is keeping her late. They sometimes do that." Ironically, we had been fighting for a few days, and I wanted to apologize to her.

Of course, it is ironic how she ended up having to apologize for over nine months after she did that. Because she never stopped.

She did not stop cheating on me, and when I told her that I wanted for her to never speak to that person again, she said, "Okay, daddy..I won't, I promise..." Yet she did. She would tell me that she was out with family, and she'd be with him. She would tell me that she was out with a friend of hers, and she'd be out with him. She would tell me that she was busy that day, and she'd be out with him.

Right after she slept with him, I started to put rules into place. Playful rules that were easy to not break. And for two months, after she slept with him, I thought that everything was wonderful. She would come home after being out with her "mother," and we would talk, joke around, play, and she was very good to me. Very good to me, when it was all just a fake game.

I do not remember how I found out. I think that her friend told me. But when I found out that everything that we had been doing for the past two months, that everything she had been telling me were lies, I blew up. Who can blame me, really? Who can blame me, when I felt like a complete fool for thinking that Little Girl was mine, that I had her in my arms, that she was mine, only mine, and that everything was going so well?

There are times that I, yes, I, think, "Perhaps she did it for a reason, maybe I really was an asshole." But then I smack myself and say, "No. No, you were not the problem."

Things settled down a bit. She finally stopped seeing him, sometime a few months later, when he told her that if she wouldn't have sex with him, he would not speak to her. And of course, who'd she come crying to—daddy. Because daddy's always there. Daddy's there, to sit in his lap, cry on his chest, when she tells him that the man that she was cheating on daddy with had hurt her.

It was a slow transition, Little Girl changing to not being mine anymore. Then the question comes up, well, was she ever really yours? That is one that I do not know the answer to—she tells me that she was, one time. For a few weeks, she was. Then she changed the answer to a few days. But honestly, would I believe her if she said anything? If she were to tell me that she had been on my doorstep, waiting for me, would I even go to get the door? Probably not. I do not know which is worse—believing a person who you fell in love with, or believing a stranger, stranger being the one who told me that she had been going behind my back.

I think that it is worse to believe anyone, no matter the person. That is life, for you—can be wonderful, when it's wonderful.

So did she grow up ever? No. And perhaps that's why I'm unhappy. Because she left me, and she's still just a child, and I know that she's always going to be taken advantage of, she's never going to amount to anything, and she's never going to really be anything in life. It hurts to know that, that the girl who was once my little girl is never going to really be anything that I had wanted her to be—which was always the best that she could be.

At this point, where her and I stand now, she is off with another man, and they may be getting somewhere to live together. He apparently abused her after getting drunk. Or so she told me. Who knows whether she is just saying this to play with me or not. Who will ever know? And at this point, I am doing what I have to do—hurt, upset, angry, resentful, bitter, aggravated, stressed—but I am trying to get over her. I am surprised, actually, that I wrote all of this without crying—yes, I am a very emotional man (my father's the same way, and not surprisingly, him and my mum were in the same form of relationship as Little Girl's and mine).

Her and I were not together for that long—three and a half years—but it felt like in those years, so much has happened. I sometimes look back and say, "Wow. Look at that. Look at how much her and I have been through." And I miss her, sadly. I do miss her (or what I thought she was, at least). Not all of the time—only sometimes.

The Father/daughter aspect of our relationship really turned me off to the idea of ever having that again (and quite honestly, of ever having a serious relationship again)—I sometimes wonder how other people do it, how they can have a child and then break up with them and find another one. Seems like abandonment to me. So in my mind, she'll always be Little Girl, daughter, child, baby girl, beautiful girl, even if I am with someone else. Is that wrong of me? Yes. Is it extra baggage on a potential mate? Perhaps.

I am a Dominant, but it's funny, amusing, how I am such a loyal dog. A friend of mine always says to me, "Being in love makes you a fool," and it's true—it really does.

Note: The reason why I decided to post this was because I got a question a while back, asking what happens when a Master/slave relationship ends. And honestly, it's the same as any other relationship, depending on the people in the relationship—were there strong emotions? Was there any connection? Was there a set of strict rules for the submissive, how did the submissive act during the relationship, how did the Dominant act, all of that matters when a relationship ends.

It also depends, not surprisingly, on the type of people that are involved in the relationship. Little Girl was always a work, to say the least. She never understood her emotions, and she would sometimes let them out, but then shove them back into herself. This is probably why she led me on for so many years. Honest people—those who are honest with themselves—probably would not do what she did. So the way that the relationship would end would be very different, indeed.

Like anything, it depends on the people involved, and it depends on who those people are. It is not about the dynamic of the relationship, really.