naughtylittlegirl
09-29-2014, 07:35 PM
Chapter 3: We Spoke To Each Other As People To Be Valued And Respected
Another seemingly obvious one, I know. Yet it apparently is frighteningly easy to think of a potential partner as the means to one’s own fantasy fulfillment and reduce them to a disposable entity being used to fulfill a role.
Wardell never made that mistake. I hope I didn’t either.
We certainly covered likes, limits, fantasies, etc., but we talked about the rest of our lives (sans identifying details) too. We were real people whose existence was not limited to dominant or submissive. Not only did we both show interest in and appreciation for each other as fully-dimensioned individuals, but we recognized the value in what the other chose to share – it was far easier to only share the characteristics described in a standard signature/info page than it was to allow someone to see more of me.
Wardell was careful not to push for answers I wasn’t comfortable giving yet, frequently reminding that I was not obligated to answer things I felt were too personal. His questions were not demands so he could determine what I could and might do for him. They were attempts to get to know who I was a whole person.
Over the last several months I’ve become less appreciative of people who immediately begin calling me “slut” or “whore” (the former only my Dom can call me, the latter I don’t like period), as well as when people refer to me simply as “sub” or “slave”, reducing my primary identity to a (faceless?) role I have in no way agreed to fill at that point. I’ve also had people take some liberties and start calling me things that just make things feel weird – I said “Hello, how are you?”, and apparently they heard “Call me your slutty little babydoll slave, even though we've never spoken before and I have not consented to being yours in any way, shape, or form.”
On the other hand (she said, in an effort to stop ranting), Wardell had (and has) all these lovely epithets for me even at the very beginning, which I loved – to be more precise, they made me melt into a tingling, trembling puddle, and unless something is seriously wrong and distracting me wildly, they still do. When they came from him, I felt like he actually meant them, and he chose them based on what I a) was comfortable with and b) genuinely liked. If I expressed hesitancy about anything, even a term he used in passing, he would immediately drop it.
Then one day I told him my first name. Cleverly placed in PS in one of our emails so I could at least appear nonchalant, in a tiny effort to quell yet another round of nervous anticipation. I wanted Wardell to have it. I hadn’t told a single person online my real name (although a couple people I’d given a shortened version of it, which I haven’t done since), and I didn’t want to do something foolish and give my full name (i.e. first and last) yet as we had not known each other longer than a few weeks. Yet I felt like not only would my name be safe with him, but that I wanted him to have my name – in a sense, it was a kind of confirmation of how he already ‘had’ me. There is something indescribable about my Dom calling me by my name – it’s become this reminder of that I can place my identity, my real identity, in his hands and am safe and cherished.
But it's also more than that. There is a deeper element of intimacy whenever he uses my name, and it isn't just a reminder of our intimacy. Like every time Wardell uses my name he has me, the real, honest, bare me, a little bit more than before. I cannot describe it more specifically than that.
Wardell also did not take liberties to which he was not entitled, bargaining with me or coercing me to do tasks or reveal more of myself than I was comfortable in exchange for information about or favours from him. For me, that highlighted his ability to dominate: Wardell didn’t have to pretend he had me over a barrel and I’d better prove myself worthy if I wanted to know a lick about him. If he wanted me to do something, he simply said so, no games, no manipulation. None of that was necessary, because he had treated me so supremely well that when I got a chance to do a task or answer a question, I was beyond eager.
Finally, Wardell asked for my thoughts, my reasoning, and my expectations, and responded to each thoughtfully. He didn't impose a laundry list of rules on me and attempt to reshape my entire existence. Wardell got to know me and discussed them with me, so that he could establish rules that fit us both, comfortably, accurately, and effectively so I was genuinely dominated. I will continue on this track, but in the next post, because I let this one get away from me again.
Another seemingly obvious one, I know. Yet it apparently is frighteningly easy to think of a potential partner as the means to one’s own fantasy fulfillment and reduce them to a disposable entity being used to fulfill a role.
Wardell never made that mistake. I hope I didn’t either.
We certainly covered likes, limits, fantasies, etc., but we talked about the rest of our lives (sans identifying details) too. We were real people whose existence was not limited to dominant or submissive. Not only did we both show interest in and appreciation for each other as fully-dimensioned individuals, but we recognized the value in what the other chose to share – it was far easier to only share the characteristics described in a standard signature/info page than it was to allow someone to see more of me.
Wardell was careful not to push for answers I wasn’t comfortable giving yet, frequently reminding that I was not obligated to answer things I felt were too personal. His questions were not demands so he could determine what I could and might do for him. They were attempts to get to know who I was a whole person.
Over the last several months I’ve become less appreciative of people who immediately begin calling me “slut” or “whore” (the former only my Dom can call me, the latter I don’t like period), as well as when people refer to me simply as “sub” or “slave”, reducing my primary identity to a (faceless?) role I have in no way agreed to fill at that point. I’ve also had people take some liberties and start calling me things that just make things feel weird – I said “Hello, how are you?”, and apparently they heard “Call me your slutty little babydoll slave, even though we've never spoken before and I have not consented to being yours in any way, shape, or form.”
On the other hand (she said, in an effort to stop ranting), Wardell had (and has) all these lovely epithets for me even at the very beginning, which I loved – to be more precise, they made me melt into a tingling, trembling puddle, and unless something is seriously wrong and distracting me wildly, they still do. When they came from him, I felt like he actually meant them, and he chose them based on what I a) was comfortable with and b) genuinely liked. If I expressed hesitancy about anything, even a term he used in passing, he would immediately drop it.
Then one day I told him my first name. Cleverly placed in PS in one of our emails so I could at least appear nonchalant, in a tiny effort to quell yet another round of nervous anticipation. I wanted Wardell to have it. I hadn’t told a single person online my real name (although a couple people I’d given a shortened version of it, which I haven’t done since), and I didn’t want to do something foolish and give my full name (i.e. first and last) yet as we had not known each other longer than a few weeks. Yet I felt like not only would my name be safe with him, but that I wanted him to have my name – in a sense, it was a kind of confirmation of how he already ‘had’ me. There is something indescribable about my Dom calling me by my name – it’s become this reminder of that I can place my identity, my real identity, in his hands and am safe and cherished.
But it's also more than that. There is a deeper element of intimacy whenever he uses my name, and it isn't just a reminder of our intimacy. Like every time Wardell uses my name he has me, the real, honest, bare me, a little bit more than before. I cannot describe it more specifically than that.
Wardell also did not take liberties to which he was not entitled, bargaining with me or coercing me to do tasks or reveal more of myself than I was comfortable in exchange for information about or favours from him. For me, that highlighted his ability to dominate: Wardell didn’t have to pretend he had me over a barrel and I’d better prove myself worthy if I wanted to know a lick about him. If he wanted me to do something, he simply said so, no games, no manipulation. None of that was necessary, because he had treated me so supremely well that when I got a chance to do a task or answer a question, I was beyond eager.
Finally, Wardell asked for my thoughts, my reasoning, and my expectations, and responded to each thoughtfully. He didn't impose a laundry list of rules on me and attempt to reshape my entire existence. Wardell got to know me and discussed them with me, so that he could establish rules that fit us both, comfortably, accurately, and effectively so I was genuinely dominated. I will continue on this track, but in the next post, because I let this one get away from me again.