Sir Jon has been sharing his knowledge and experience on his blog. He posted three Dom Talks recently, Two Little Words of D/s, The Power of No (and other words) , (which actually includes a quote from me! ) and Subdrop/Aftercare, that have been particularly powerful and rang true for me. I encourage you to read those first (if you haven’t already.) They inspired me to share a few stories and thoughts of my own.

We all have words for our body parts, and different reactions to other people’s words for them. I once knew a man whose mother taught him that his penis was called a “dinky.” Seriously. What a way to scar the poor child.

Words matter to me, as you may have guessed. But some words that I might have once shunned have become accepted terms in my world. For example, Sir asked me recently how I felt about the word slut – no, more accurately, I think he asked me if I was his slut.

I didn’t hesitate to say, “Yes, Sir, of course I am.” I mean, y’all. I’m running around in thong underwear, picking up toys at the Amazon locker to get spanked with, wet and aroused all the damn time, and dreaming of cock worship. I’m pretty sure that qualifies me as his slut.

But I actually reclaimed that word, taking a feminist perspective on it, a long time ago. Definitions vary a bit depending on what dictionary you use, but essentially it’s a pejorative term for a woman who has casual sexual partners or sexual partners without emotional entanglement. The intent is to cast shame on woman who are sexually promiscuous. So a woman who sleeps around is a slut, a man who sleeps around is a stud. 

The reality (in my experience) is that men and women are both highly sexual creatures and none of us need to be shamed for having consensual sex with anyone. If that makes me a slut, so be it. 

But I’m not really into casual sex or sex without emotional connection – those of you who hung in here with me for all the dry years can attest to that. I claim the word slut in solidarity with any of my sisters who may be inclined to express their sexuality that way.

On the other hand, being Sir’s slut is a whole different story. Yes, I can throw myself into being his slut with abandon. And ask for more.

In his post, Sir also talked about the word cunt, which has a powerfully negative connotation for many of us. And that made me think of a story which might or might not have actually happened. But let’s imagine a submissive woman, S, and her Dom, Sir D, chatting casually one day. 

Sir D, says to his submissive, who is completely naked and lying on the couch, legs open, while he sits at one end of the couch, fully dressed, turned to face her. He has been playing with her nipples and now she is moaning softly and wishing he’d touch her other places. She has started to writhe a bit, pushing up with her hips.

He smiles and touches a hip. ”Are you trying to tell me something?”

“Sir,” she moans, knowing quite well that he knows exactly what she wants. But she is not sure what answer he wants. ”Yes, Sir, maybe,” she says.

His hand moves across her belly and down a bit, getting closer to the hot core of her center. His other hand continues to toy with her nipples. ”Maybe you’re trying to tell me something?” 

She knows that he’s toying with her and there isn’t a thing she can do about it. ”Yes, Sir, I – I’m not trying to tell you what to do.”

“No, of course you’re not,” he says, his hand coming closer to that part of her she desperately wants touched. ”Is there something you want? Something you’d like me to do?” The hand is stroking her inner thigh now and she’s pushing up with her hips a bit more.

“Hold still, girl,” he says and the hand quits moving. She moans, but stops the movement of her hips, his hand begins stroking again, still avoiding the places that most need attention.

“Tell me what you want,” he says.

“Sir,” she can barely speak, but she manages to say, “Touch me, please Sir, you know please touch me there.”

He smiles. Her eyes are closed so she misses that little smile that would have warned her. ”There? Touch you where?” he asks, in a teasing tone. ”Here?” and he tugs on a nipple.

“Sir! No, Sir, I mean, yes, Sir, touch me there too, but touch me, ohhhh, please, ok, touch me between the legs.”

“I am touching you between the legs, girl. What do you want?’

“My pussy, yes, please touch my pussy.” But his hand continues to toy with her, moving closer and then away. All of her attention is focused on the movement of his hand and the burning need between her thighs.

“Whose pussy?” he says.

“YOURS! Yours, Sir, your pussy.” She is so eager to please, she knows if she gets this right that he will touch her and that there is an orgasm in her future, elusive though it is at the moment. But this is not the capitulation he’s looking for.

“Do you remember,” he says, “the other day,” and his tone is a bit sharp, she knows she needs to listen, “do you remember the word that I like for your pussy, the one that you don’t like at all… do you remember that word?”

“Ohhhhh,” she moans, part pleasure, part dread, “ohhhh, do I remember that word, Sir?”

“Yes. A simple yes or no, do you remember? Or do I need to stop touching so you can think?

“No, no, Sir,” she says, “I mean, don’t stop touching, please don’t stop, Sir – unless, you know, if you really want to stop – but no, don’t – I mean, yes. Yes, I remember the word.”

“What was that word?’ He is in full Dominant mode now, she can hear it in his tone, she knows there is no escape and her pussy throbs and burns more for knowing that.

“Sirrrrr” she pleads but his hand starts to move away and she gasps, “Cunt, Sir. The word was cunt.”

“Good girl,” he says and she shivers with pleasure. ”And whose cunt is this that you want me to touch?”

“Yours Sir,” she manages, although her hips are starting to move again. 

“My what?” he says patiently.

And something inside her slips a bit, something loosens and lets go, and she laughs. ”Your cunt, Sir. It is your cunt. And I want you to touch your cunt, please Sir, please touch your cunt, and please let me cum, please, please, please Sir.”

“Good girl,” he says, and he begins to touch his cunt in just the way she loves.

That’s the power of words – and the power of a good Dom. With a bit of training, S might soon be using the word cunt without any hesitation at all, and only a bit of lingering shame and arousal at saying it. Of course, that means her Sir will find another way to push the limits she has set…