This girl – speaking in the third person

It was a way of getting me to settle into my new role, as His submissive. Very soon after we got together, Master asked me to use the third person when referring to myself. At first I thought he was joking. But, no he wasn’t. He suggested I use one of the following: this one or this girl. I wrote last year about being called a girl at the age of 50 something and how strange that felt. This girl was a step on from that, but it is what I chose.

For a time on this blog I wrote in the third person. I did it to get used to referring to myself in that way. I stopped because not every post lends itself to being written in the third person. Plus it wasn’t an expectation. There are plenty of times, face to face though when I refer to myself as this girl. He pretty much always calls me girl or this girl.

Where does it come from?

As far as I can see, third person speak in this context comes from the Gorean Lifestyle. Within this culture, the Master has total control over the slave, who in turn has given herself (and it is usually a her) to be owned property. An object to be used as the Master sees fit. The slave girl has no rights, not even to her own name. At the same time the Master cherishes his slave and trains and nurtures her natural femaleness, so she emerges into her true slave.

There is nothing Gorean about our relationship or lifestyle. But Master’s desires for a slave he can own and possess appear rooted in these ideals. At the beginning of the relationship, giving up my given name when with him did help me to let go of external constraints to submission.

How speaking in the third person influenced the development of our relationship

On returning from a short break away together when for several days I had referred to myself as this girl, I wrote.

The difference between Julie, the career woman, mother, daughter and estranged wife and joolz the submissive was greater than it has ever been. Ever!

31st March 2015.

I had learned to let go. To trust another person to take full control of me. One by one he took decision making from me and somehow peeled away the layers I had built up over the years. It is strange to look back now on the person I was, the one who always had to be in charge and control. Referring to him as Sir and myself as this girl was a large part of that process. Because every time you open your mouth to say something, you have to consider your words very carefully. Every time you do something you think about whether you are doing something that is for his pleasure. That was the start of my journey to becoming his slave.

This girl now

She still exists, though it is not overtly evident. Not all of the time anyway. Most days I do consider my slave self. Think of this girl and reflect. I tend to hold my collar when doing it. We don’t have rituals or rules as such. Everything is embedded. I generally know how to behave and what he expects of me. In my head I often think of myself not as Julie but this girl.

To him, that is exactly who I am. He only calls me by my given name when referring to me to others.

But the third person speech is only heard in the bedroom or during play. It naturally flows from my tongue during those times. At the same time it invigorates him and shows him where the power lies in our dynamic.

Title: slave

This is day 3 of the Loving BDSM 30 days of Kink – Titles and labels. I identify as slave.

One of the joys of being Master’s slave is the opportunity it provides me to shed my vanilla persona. For a minute, an hour, a day or however long it is, I can be ‘this girl’ His bitch, a number even. Most of the times when I can focus in this way are during a scene or in bed. But sometimes it may be a moment in the kitchen, the car or out walking. A moment to focus on who I am, who I serve and what that means.

I didn’t choose to be called slave. Master chose me. He decided that is what best fitted his needs and after discussion and negotiation we agreed that was who I was to be. And while I am always his slave, there are specific times when we concentrate much more on our roles. At these times our power exchange relationship comes to the fore and that is all that matters.

Sex slave

All of our sex has a kinky element, overlaid heavily with BDSM. He very much gets off on the power element of being my Master and Lord. During sex he also likes us to reaffirm our roles as Master and slave. That he owns my limits and that I need to be dominated. This in turn helps to free my mind and concentrate on what is important, him. Sex tends to take place in the mornings, though occasionally, like last night late at night. We don’t tend to scene or play, though we may use toys such as vibrators or dildos. He controls my orgasms and that is another important element of our M/s relationship. I’ll talk about this in another post.

Service slave

We share household responsibilities between us, therefore doing all of the cooking and cleaning etc. isn’t something I am expected to do. But I do take the initiative to do things that I think will make his life easier. This doesn’t however extend to his ironing etc. When we are out Master takes charge of what we are doing, where we are going and often these days I just let it happen. This is particularly true when we go on holiday, he does all the organising and I buy a guidebook and enjoy the surprise element of where we end up. From a service point of view then, I lead an easy life.

Events

We attend local munches and when we are with friends and like minded people there is no protocol about us. I wear my collar, but otherwise people wouldn’t know I am a slave. I do enjoy attending play events, especially CMnf. I’d like to attend more of these kind of events, including those that are higher protocol. I think I would enjoy the challenge.

Loving BDSM 30 Days of D/s

Symbol

The main symbol of my submission, that I am Master’s slave is my collar. Mostly I wear the same titanium collar and rarely remove it. You can see it in most of the photos of me, taken in the last 4 years or so. For Christmas Master presented me with a new collar. Something to wear on special occasions, given its weight. The photo below was taken at the end of January. For most of that month I had been unable to wear anything around my neck because of my radiotherapy treatment. That finished on 31st and so when we went to our local munch that evening I wore my Christmas collar. A symbol of his ownership of me and that I am his slave.

Sinful Sunday
February Photofest