Why Miss?

Why a name so commonly used to refer to me as a Dominant?

Why does a name that should be said as a show of another’s submission, cause the kaleidoscope of butterflies in my stomach to take flight when it dances off your lips?

Miss. It is simple, clean, respectful. Yet it holds such immense power over me. It has literally brought me to my knees, made me tremble in anticipation, sent my stomach to spinning and my breath hitch in my chest when it rolls off your lips.

The first time you called me Miss, we hadn’t even met. We were still texting, getting to know one another, deciding if we were worth each others time. I sent you a picture of me in an outfit that I typically wear as a Dominant, in fact, I took that particular photo on a night I was attending a femdom party.

“That’s how you get pushed up against a wall Miss.”

Pushed up against a wall.

That sentence contained the very foundation of my name and the reason for it. The idea of you taking exactly what you want from me pushing me against a wall, taking away my control, my power, my Dominance, coupled with “Miss,” the word, the manner of address. Ms. went from being associated with my power and control, to the loss there of, having it stripped from me, being too helpless and vulnerable to stop you from taking what you want.

Ms. transformed to Miss.

Miss went from Ms. powerful, confidant, in control Dominant to Miss. Small, vulnerable, helpless, submissive.

All of this happened in a split second. That sentence laid the foundation for our whole relationship and the association of that title changed in my conscience and subconscious that quickly. I just had not even realized it yet. But it sent those butterflies a million different directions.

Even before we met, you have held that power over me.

I don’t even think you ever intended it that way.

You could have said a million different things, called me a million different names. You could have told me “that is how you get pushed up against a wall Ma’am, or girl, or kitten, or any other name/nickname/honorific you can think of. But no. You chose Miss, and unknowingly decided my name for you.

I am Yours.

Your miss.

Not your Miss, no, no. I am Your miss.

The word, rolling off your tounge can illicit a million different feelings from me. Said in the right tone, it will stop me in my tracks if I am getting unruly.

It also has brought me back down into myself when my emotions get the best of me and I am upset and scared and fearful. When I am vulnerable. You simply have to utter it to me and it calms me, I feel safe, surrounded by love and protected even when you are not physically with me.

You call me all sorts of names, baby, babe, hon, my actual name, sweetheart, I think you have even called me love a time or two. Plus all of the fun bedroom names on top of that, but none of them carry the same weight or hold the same power that miss does. There is nothing quite like it.

The first time you said it, I am sure that it was only said out of habit when speaking with a woman. Those manners are just so ingrained in you. I don’t think you would have once considered calling me Miss with the intention of referring to me as a submissive. Girl perhaps. But I doubt miss.

Instead of saying “That’s how you get pushed up against a wall Miss.” You should have just told me the truth then and there.

“That’s how you end up owned miss.”