I haven’t used that many times. I have used it, when he made me ask for something and he wanted to hear me call him ‘Mijn Heer’, but those occasions are more an exception than the rule. It seems that using names is just not something that fits in with our relationship. And here I specifically mean the formal names that many others use in a D/s (or similar) setting. There are times when a name fits in with the setting, but it’s not part of any of our rituals.
Of course, we each do have our names for each other. When I write about him, I call him ‘Master T’ and if he talks about me to someone else, he refers to me as ‘Rebel’ or ‘Reb’. Talking to each other in a normal day setting, we call each other ‘love’ or ‘honey’ or ‘darling’ and only sometimes we use our names. Master T has shortened my real name to only two letters which I have grown accustomed to over the years. Since his real name has only one syllable, it’s difficult to shorten that to anything else.
There is one name he calls me that always makes me feel warm inside. It started out many years before when we spoke about the differences between Dutch and Afrikaans. The languages are very closely related, but there are words that exist in both languages, but mean something totally different. And of course, there are words in Dutch that are swear words in Afrikaans. One of those is the Dutch word for a female cat. In Afrikaans that is the word for ‘cunt’.
He calls me ‘Puss’.
(In Dutch it has a different spelling, but sounds the same.)
That became the pet name Master T uses for me. He never uses it when the kids are around, as they will definitely look up strangely when he does. It is something between me and him. When he uses it – it doesn’t happen every day – it makes me go all warm inside. It makes me think of sex. It makes me want to be touched. I long for him at that moment and I know one of the reasons why he uses it is because he longs for me too. The air seems to instantly fill with a electrically charged particles. The word holds a promise, if only to say how deeply he loves me.
In bed, in the midst of an intense sex session, Master T call me his whore or his slut. I love it when he does and it makes me feel even sexier or sometimes can even be the onset for a strong orgasm, but nothing, no other name, no other word evokes the feelings in me than this pet name does.
Sitting here, writing this, I wonder if I will have the same feelings when someone else calls me ‘Puss’ and immediately I know the answer: no.
This is something between Master T and me because of the intense and sweet moment in which he started calling me his ‘Puss’.
© Rebel’s Notes