Given my previous post, while we’re on the topic, I might as well go into it: how do I feel about being called a bitch?
It’s actually a complex word in usage, one with many connotations and the strange ability to mean the opposite of itself. I’ve overheard it used of women in business — “She’s a bitch that makes it all work” — which is disparaging and admiring in the same moment. Used of me, “bitch” can be a term of degradation and endearment all at once: “Shae is my special bitch.”
However, Master McKenna has not called me his bitch, perhaps because he is respectful of women in his workplaces. Despite my being his slave, I am doing clerical work for him, and perhaps I technically fall into that category of “employee.” Or maybe with me he just hasn’t gotten into domination language yet.
Amanda has called me bitch only occasionally, in casual endearment. On occasion it has been as a pointed effort to put me in my proper place when I get uppity: “Just remember you’re still my bitch,” she says.
I wonder if she will use it more often with me now — now that she’s going to leash me in the back yard to a dog run. If so, I can handle her calling me bitch. I just pray she doesn’t put me in a pink poodle tutu and rename me “Fluffy.”
We all know that a female dog is referred to as a “bitch.” But I didn’t realize that a male dog is simply called a “dog.” In other words, we bitches don’t even get our own species. We are a subset.
For all kinds of females, it seems, life sucks.
I find that there are people at the edge of Mistress’s and Master’s worlds, privy to watching my slavery from the side, who at some point wish to partake in the experience of dominating me. They do not have permission to do so, of course, except they can to some extent enjoy my degradation through words.
So I’ve had men say to me, “Are you being a good little bitch?”
As if putting me at the level of a female dog is not enough, they add the word “little,” making their degradation of me more trivial and diminutive. By prefacing their slur with the word “good,” they make it an impossible question to answer. I may say no, meaning I am not a female dog, but then it sounds as if I am saying I’m not being good.
Of course, I nod in the affirmative and say, “Yes I am, sir,” the only proper response a submissive can tender.
It is part of my submissive duty to take verbal degradation slung at me, and so I absorb derogatory terms passively. It’s what a slave does, regardless of whether the person has the right to call me something.
Sometimes this is in side comments to my mistress or master — for example, someone saying to Master McKenna, “How’s your slave-slut working out?” Although directed at him, it is stated in front of me, that person pushing himself into my slavery via verbal humiliation. Master McKenna doesn’t always tolerate this — it depends on what level of connection the person has with him. On one occasion he reprimanded the man who called me “slave-slut,” saying, “You know, Bill, you don’t get to call her that.”
When Master said that, my heart soared, and I was ready then and there to give myself to him body and soul — ironically, all the more desirous of being his special bitch.
As I’ve written before, words affect me more when I know they are in some way true of me. The “female dog” meaning of the word “bitch” is obviously not literal to me nor even its more common vanilla-world usage — “a tough, difficult female boss.”
However, the word also implies a woman who is “kept and used sexually,” which is true of me. A female dog is often used by male dogs in the neighborhood, quite indiscriminately. There’s that image and connotation, thank you very much.
So when I am called “bitch” in front of others, I am being so identified. It is true I am kept, and it is also true of me that I am used sexually by others. People do not know to what extent that is, but they imagine.
I stand passively and absorb it, being called a bitch, fully aware of all the possible meanings, feeling I am drenched in people’s assumptions, and accepting this is how I am now known to the people in the room.