This technically is not about the weekend — I have written this before my weekend started — but it’s from my journal notes during my early sessions with Master McKenna. This write-up is about him and his dominant character and style.
I believe I wrote about Master McKenna once or twice months ago, but I forget now what I said then, so I may cover the same ground as before, forgive me.
Master McKenna is a few inches taller than me and has a trim physique, not muscled, but tight. I was told once he’s fifty-five, although he looks a bit younger than that. He’s attractive to me in an understated way, attractive as a man, by which I mean that even if I weren’t submissive and responding to his dominance, I’d find him physically appealing. That’s not to say I long to bear his children, just that he has a refined appearance that’s not hard to look at.
His is a decidedly “business” bearing — one of serious focus and efficiency. He is strong-willed in areas of his knowledge, which asserts a natural authority over those around him. At the same time, in areas where he is not so expert, I’ve seen him defer and be open to other input and discussion. Conversationally, he is not so subdued as Kevin tends to be, but he measures his words carefully, making them count.
Likewise with me, my submissive to his dominant, he compels my servitude with his natural presence. He exudes a confident power that I, submissively, swirl into. There is something about how he simply assumes my lower place and status that is quite overcoming.
One of the first things he said to me in my sessions with him was that he had great respect for the women he worked with in business, and believed in the equality of women and men in the workplace. He said he believed women felt positive about him likewise.
“However,” he said, “I view submissives at a lower level. And I view you, Shae, at a lower level. This is not because you’re a woman but because you’re a submissive. I believe you were made to live under men like me. To be property.”
This was not new to me, and is the basic view of real D/s slavery, but it carried a kind of weight in the way he said it and intended it. Some dominants talk this way, but I got the feeling Master McKenna, foundationally thinks this way.
I have since come to experience this from him in actual practice. As I have been with him as my master in his mansion, this world where people come and go, I am often kept “to the side,” unattended, until such time as he wishes to use me. I am not neglected, but simply am often not his focus — until I am. His point in telling me what he did was to emphasize that I am not important to him other than being the slave property I am.
And so Master McKenna is not a “caretaker dominant,” if you will. He is not cold toward me — I’m not saying that — but he also doesn’t cater to my submissive needs. My needs, I believe him to think, are met entirely by my servicing his needs.
Of course, I am spoiled in my relationship with Amanda, which is a hybrid of various things. She nurtures me, of course, in her caretaking way. But that’s a different conversation…
I guess my point is that Master McKenna represents a different kind of dominance than I’ve experienced before. (Which is in part what Amanda wishes for me.)
I remember now from in those early sessions, he also said to me once that though I am at a lower level in his view and will treat me as such, he doesn’t consider me inferior. “You are clearly an intelligent woman, Shae,” he said, “creative and interesting. For me to deny that, would be obviously untrue. What’s interesting to me, and will be to others, is that you are a superior person submitting yourself to an inferior treatment. They will be fascinated by why you have to do that and thrilled to watch you in your humiliations. I enjoy observing that.”
After my first two sessions with him, I was worried I couldn’t match Master McKenna’s serious earnestness. He seemed so intense. To say it better, I was concerned there wouldn’t be much room for my own personality. That wasn’t for me to decide, but it’s a thing, and perhaps not talked about enough in D/s conversation. A slave must serve her master however he relates to her, sure, but she may serve him better if there is chemistry and if she can be herself in her submission.
My fears proved not to be true. In subsequent sessions, he loosened up with me. This was prompted by one situation in particular.
It was a specific training — the simple act of carrying a tray of drinks, a pantomime of sorts to serve him and a roomful of imagined others. He wanted to see how I walked and served, as he is very precise in those requirements of me. Of course, I do this all the time with Amanda, serving her coffee in the morning and drinks at night, usually bearing a tray filled with items. I also serve when we have people over — tea for teatimes and cocktail on the patio. This is what I do every day of my life.
Of course, it would happen that in this first time of demonstrating this for him, I tripped over my own feet and stumbled, tipping the tray and sending glasses to the floor. I somehow kept my footing, righting myself, but I stood there in my obvious mess and klutz-ation, slave tray in my hand hanging down on one side, looking like a slave girl in shock. Which I was.
Well, Master McKenna laughed. And it wasn’t a laugh of ridicule at me, but a hearty laugh at the improbability of the situation. He knew I was striving hard to be perfect for him, and here the mishap of all mishaps blows up in front of me.
It was probably the best possible thing to happen, although it didn’t feel like it at the time.
Standing there, looking down, and truly forlorn, I said, “I should probably have mentioned that I have a slight problem with klutziness.”
He laughed again. It was then I knew there would be room for “me” in this slavery.
Master McKenna didn’t so much as touch me sexually for the first three sessions. I had thought this was part of his agreement with Amanda, but have since been led to believe otherwise. It just wasn’t his initial interest, and wasn’t at first his primary thing in training me.
I think it was in my fourth session with him that he told me to take off my top. I obeyed, and he conducted the entire day of training with me topless. That, I believe was the first time I was (semi) nude in his presence.
Of course, I live much of my life in semi-nude states, but it feels different with every new person. And in a situation like this with a dominant man new to me, being topless for him was like being exposed for the very first time all over again — filling me with a combination of blush and vulnerability.
By the end of that session, he had not once touched my breasts, and I was longing for him to do so.
I’ll write more another time about sexual uses of me, but for now I’ll just acknowledge he has taken me and had sex with me, making me his in that way too.