Master.

Raised in the south I’ve always answered politely. We say yes sir, no sir, yes ma’am, no ma’am. We call people we don’t even know honey or baby. It’s just how we’ve been raised. We address our children as sir and ma’am from time to time, just to reinforce manners, these are titles of respect, and we respect even our children. Calling him Sir seemed natural, and came easy to me. Until today, today he decided I would call him Master.

Where I’m from, anyone with a penis can be a sir, yet it takes someone special to be a master, or to be my master anyway. To me, a sir is more of a disciplinarian, someone with control and deserving of respect. A master is someone with the highest level of control, and therefor a higher level of commitment. Someone you can give yourself over to completely. Some one who’s word is law. A slave becomes their master’s property and bad behavior will be dealt with appropriately. To get to this point there needs to be trust, understanding, and mutual respect.

I feel honored to be allowed to call him my master. Honored that he has given me a chance to serve him. I consider myself lucky that he even saw my response to his ad worthy of a second look.

I consider myself a lucky slave to have someone to call master who’s interest seem to fit so well with my own.

Thank you Master for being you. You are awesome!