The thing is, slave … I don’t like to be called Mistress.
Blimey, he didn’t see that one coming! His mouth fell open and his pants fell down.
Ohhhh! I apologise Mistr- … uh … Madame? Milady? Empress? Duchess? Baroness? Queen?
Nah, don’t like that at all.
Man, he was caught in a fucking nightmare. These beautiful and honourable titles distinguished the Mighty & Powerful from the braindead pricks. Surely you could not address such a Lady with Betsy, Agatha, Theodora, Molly or Dolly! Let alone with sweetie-pie, doll or babycakes.
“I’m going to whip you in half, you piece of shit.
“Whatever makes You happy, apple-of-my-eye.”
“Don’t call Me that, slave!”
“I’m so sorry, Eugenie.”
No, no, that wouldn’t work, that wouldn’t work at all!
I want you to call Me by My first name, She said with twinkling eyes.
Triple shit, what the fuck was the world coming to! Damn you first names! But, you know, he was a slave and slaves were not allowed to think for themselves. Besides, he was the proud owner of a pair of testicles, and he wanted to keep it that way, thank you very much.
Ask Me what My first name is, pet.
What is Your first name, he asked without any enthusiasm whatsoever.