Two simple enough words… yet at one point, so difficult for me to accept.
MasterC is not my first D/s relationship. Those who have been following this blog from the very beginning know that it all started with Sylvanus. For the most part, when Sylvanus and I interacted on a D/s level, I always referred to him as Sir. It came naturally. I find Sir to be very respectful when talking to other Dominants as well. So, it came to no surprise that Sylvanus wanted me to address him using a special title… “Master.”
Master, would prove to be difficult for me. It felt wrong. Not in a bad way, mind you, but just unnatural. Actually saying the word Master, especially while looking at him, was so difficult for me. I felt silly. It was just so…. Ack!
Fast forward a few years and now there is MasterC in my life. From the moment we met (online), it was very clear he was to be my Master and addressed as such. In the first few days and weeks, I again felt this silly feeling. As time passed, it became easy to type the words Master to him without hesitation. The true test would be to speak the words to him and while looking him in the eyes. So far, I have done so, without any hesitation. With him, it feels more natural now. He is my Master and I am proud to address him as such.
I know that the stigma of “Master” comes from the terrible stories and experiences of lousy Dominant men that I have encountered in my life. A lot of the Dominant men that I have encountered that have insisted on being called Master, were also raging assholes with points to prove. A lot of these “Masters”, enjoyed belittling women harshly and it left me wondering if it was domination or abuse…
Which leads me into the title… “slave”.
Slave, has always meant a negative thing to me in the D/s community. Anytime I have ever encountered a slave, it was usually a woman with absolutely no self esteem being walked on by one of these fake “Masters.” She spent her submissive existence in a ball of nerves, constantly analyzing if she was being a “good” slave. A slave usually had her entire life controlled and was often separated from friends and family on “Master’s” orders. If this “Master” noticed she had a close friend who was trying to convince his slave that he was no good, he would order his slave to stop talking to said friend. The term slave was never a positive thing to me. It was always associated with a submissive who had no self worth, or self power, or independence. I never liked the title “slave”.
But here I am… I am MasterC’s slave. I have learned a valuable lesson. All titles are what we make of them. I am a slave. I am a proud slave. I am a strong and independent woman, but I am his slave. It’s the title he has given me. When he first called me his slave, it left a bad taste in my mouth. I remember thinking, “I don’t want to be a slave!” I kept an open heart, however and soon realized that I am not A slave… I am HIS slave.
I am comfortable being his slave. I am comfortable these days when he publicly calls me, slave. It has become a term of endearment for me, because it used to cause me such inner turmoil. My acceptance of the title slave is a symbol of my love and loyalty to Master C. I am deeply honored he has chosen me as his slave and I am lucky he has become a most wonderful Master.
© At Longings End 2011
Thought provoking and beautifully said!
“slave” is my B’s endearment to me now. When he calls me “slave” I know we are in tune with each other. I rarely call him “Master” verbally, but he’s told me to a few times, when he’s fucking the hell outa me and making me beg to cum :) I usually address him as “Sir”.
I, too, struggled with both terms. The sadist had granted me the right to address him as “Master” before, as a sign of my progress, but it never quite took, and eventually our problems and triumphs brought other titles to the fore. But even then, I wasn’t his slave, though there was a period of time when I used that term for myself, in an almost poetic manner, which he permitted because he knew it was meaningful to me.
But still… “slave”… and then one day he said I was now his slave. And made it seem like an achievement. Something that would be hard, but that signaled the deepening of our connection. And then the real struggle began. A struggle to understand what it meant. A struggle to find what the word meant when WE used it. A struggle NOT to drown in the various definitions and structures declared by people who present themselves as experts in an area where there is no governing body.
I think you got it just right when you wrote “I am not A slave… I am HIS slave.” I’m not just a slave. I not just even HIS slave – for he does have another. The name, the title, is expanded with another word which defines an important part of our relationship, something I am not allowed to share – and something that no one can give him but me.
And his definition of what it means to be his slave?
That I serve.
That I serve his pleasure.
And that is all.
Which sounds simple but at times can be hard.
But most of all beautiful.
And yes, it feels like a term of endearment.
o.g.
PS – I’ve made the title “Master” my own, and an expression of my love as well as of respect and submission, by making it into “my Master.” When I find I have said or written the unadorned “Master” I’m startled, and realize it says something about my state of mind at the time.
I struggled with the term until I saw a SlaveCaroline presentation at Lair called “Powerful Slaves”.
She identifies closely as a slave, yet her day job includes walking into board rooms filled with overconfident men, and leading them.
I, myself, identify as a submissive. Only the right Dominant can make me His slave.
You can be self confident, self aware, have high self worth and identify as a slave. Which, from what I’ve read, you have all three.
And you make a beautiful slave, Mina. =]
Thank you all for your wonderful comments. I didn’t realize this post would create so many reactions. I feel like I should have dedicated more time to it! Thank you again.