At the most basic level, I expect this site to become a resource for Masters. As such, I suppose it is appropriate that my first post is confronts the reason that there are relatively few such resources out there, compared to the resources available for slaves. I don’t think that this has anything to do with the Master’s job being easier. On the contrary, I think that a competent Master constantly has their work cut out for them, no matter which of the many definitions of “Master” you subscribe to… but that is a subject for another post.
Today’s topic is one which fills new Masters everywhere with dread, and saddens the hearts of the experienced- our own fallibility. Take a deep breath, folks, this may be a bumpy ride.
For myself, my first BDSM experience was quite humbling. I was 17, and remarkably inexperienced. To celebrate my 18th birthday, my girlfriend at the time rented a hotel room and vowed to give me 18 orgasms. She also brought along a goody bag with assorted ideas for how those might be accomplished.
Around number 12 the standard sexual practices had been thoroughly plumbed, as well as numerous foodstuffs and several orifices. We did some spanking, and even age play. At this point she reached into her bag of tricks with a devilish grin, and emerged with a goodly length of rope. Seeing this as a great opportunity to allow my battered and sore man-bits take a breather I gave her my best roguish grin and a thumbs-up.
Immediately the flaws in the plan became apparent. First- my girlfriend outweighed me by at least 20lbs, and was very solidly muscular. Second- she likes to fight, a lot. Third- it’s a hotel room, there’s nothing to tie 180lbs of solid Irish wildfire to that won’t disintegrate immediately. No, it never did occur to me that she didn’t need to be bound to anything.
After a thorough survey of the room, I decided that the only piece of furniture that looked do-able was the tiny breakfast table by the window. She looked at me skeptically. I made noises of manliness and competence, and asked that she not struggle overmuch. She conceded and allowed herself to be inexpertly bound to the table, which probably weighed in at 25 lbs.
Predictably, in the throes of passion, she pulled the table over into the side of my head. While she found this funny, I still managed to get that orgasm before she completely untangled herself so I considered it a win. There was no concussion, I did collect all 18 orgasms, and yes it did hurt. A lot. Good times.
Okay, okay… sure that’s a newbie mistake, and a kid mistake at that. Surely a Real and True 100% Full Grown Master/Mistress/Dom/Domme would never do such a thing. While I dearly hope that is true, there are so many other potential pitfalls in the lifestyle that all of us fallible humans are bound to err here and there.
Take this one, for example:
Recently my girl was called a slut by someone close to her, in a serious and intentionally hurtful way. I knew this, and knew that it was bothering her, yet it is one of my pet names for her and I unthinkingly called her that the next evening. Had I given it any thought I would not have. It was a slip-up, an unnecessary and (much more importantly) unintentional hurting of my girl.
Was it within my rights? Absolutely. Was it within my sphere of morality? Not at all. Had I chosen to leave it at that my girl would have gotten over it in short order, made it ok, and moved on. In the end, though, I would have known. I am the one with the responsibility, and a big part of what I see as responsibility is taking responsibility for ones own mistakes.
I acknowledged that I had hurt her carelessly and we talked through what was bothering her about the name calling incident. She was better off for having discussed it, and did not see me as any less dominant, or any less her Master for having made that acknowledgment. I will note that I did not apologize, per se, as that bears the connotation that there is some appeasement being made or atonement being sought, which is not at all the case here.
Nothing about being a Master magically makes me infallible. What it does, however, is give me increased awareness of my responsibilities and how I discharge them. After all, if a person can’t take responsibility for their own words and actions, what business do they have taking responsibility for someone else’s?
Upon reading a draft of this, my girl claimed that she thinks I’m perfect because her brain fails to store anything I do wrong in long-term memory. If it is true, it’s because I deal with these issues as they come up in such a way that she doesn’t feel the need to keep them around for self-defense. That is a beautiful thing, and I hope to continue to be worthy of it all of my days.
