There’s something we need to talk about. It’s something I learned from the Old Guard (when I first came into the scene as leatherboy). It’s a language change that subtle and distinct, and it’s a pattern I’ve seen more and more with increasing frequency.
The thing I want to talk about is what it’s like when someone introduces themselves as “Sir” or “Master” (or “Goddess” or “King” or “Alpha” or any other honorific before your name).
I’ve heard it again and again, with increasing frequency from early career kinksters, especially dominants. It’s quite common now to meet dominants who introduce themselves, in everyday conversation, as “Sir ___” (with their scene name as the blank).
Now, I don’t want to tell you that you aren’t a Sir, or a Master, or a Goddess, or an Alpha. But consider what is happening when you introduce yourself with your title (honorific) along with your name.
Although it’s perfectly fine to call yourself that online, in common conversation, when you meet everyday kinksters, it’s not appropriate to ask any individual to call you by your dominant honorific right off the bat.
Where and whether you introduce yourself as your dominant archetype is subtle; some people are known as a thing— they have a public image and are quasi-famous kinksters. In kink contests, in brochures, in public settings, they get referred to by their full honorific, indeed. I have no issue with that.
My issue is when people introduce themselves personally as their honorific.
For one thing, you’ve created an immediate power-over dynamic with the individual you’ve just met. Right away, you’re telling me that you’re superior to me. That you’re better than me.
That’s not okay. The Old Guard was firm about this: Sir and Master are titles earned. That means that you have to earn the privilege of me referring to you as your dominant archetype.
Nobody is better than anybody else. While superiority and inferiority are delicious and erotic concepts in BDSM, they are a fantasy. Indeed, superiority is by definition a social construction. Now, you might take issue with this and try to argue that superiority is a naturally occurring phenomenon. Can you measure someone’s hands — with a ruler— and say that this person has bigger hands than someone else, so therefore they are “superior.” (Or, as any size queen might believe, perhaps you are measuring another part of a man’s anatomy.) Of course you can. But go hang out with some fisting bottoms, where bigger hands aren’t an asset. In fact, lots of fisting bottoms LOVE small-hands. Small hand tops get lots and lots of action at a fisting party, where smaller hands are superior.
I love the hands & fisting example because it perfectly shows what social construction is: For some people, bigger is better. For others, smaller is better.
I have a friend who is a judge. He works as an administrative judge for the city. Imagine if, in social circles, he referred to himself as “Judge Adam.” That would be absurd. His name is Adam, his friends call him Adam. If you’re in his courtroom, you call him Judge (or “your honor.”) That’s because titles are contextual. He’s earned the right to be called judge, and a system of social structures is in place that dictates those social expectations.
But kink is different. Kink and BDSM are landscapes in which we are projecting our internal fantasies onto the outside world. You have no right to be called Sir, no matter how great you think you are. Now, if I am your submissive on my knees waiting for you tell me what to do, then I’ll call you “Sir” (or King or Alpha or whatever else you want me to call you.) But that’s because you’ve earned that privilege, and I will do so in the context of a negotiated scene (or ongoing dynamic) between the two of us.
There are lots of subtle, nuanced ways to handle this. I’ve heard some dominants say something like, “I go by Sir Jason, but you can call me Jason until I’ve earned the privilege of being your Sir.”
My title & name is King Dash (“King” is my honorific and “Dash” is my scene name). When I introduce myself, I say my name is “Dash, King if you’re nasty.” (A reference Janet Jackson’s 1986 song “Nasty” in which she wrote the famous lyrics: “No my first name ain’t baby, it’s Janet, Ms. Jackson if you’re nasty.”)
I do this to let subs know that while I want them to call me King, I don’t expect it, and I know firmly that it is something I have to earn.
People who feel they don’t need to earn their titles have the wrong idea about BDSM. They are flirting with a dangerous, toxic lie: The lie of essentialism.
They are lying to you to try to manipulate you into believing that our dominant (or submissive) archetypes are essential, fixed, and pre-determined. Essentialism is a powerful drug that comes up generation after generation (indeed, many of us sex radicals and post-modern writers who were schooled in the 70s, 80s, and 90s discussed essentialism extensively).
It situates kink — and the idea of superiority and inferiority— as something that is “pre-social.” To believe in “natural” or “authentic” kink is to believe that if you strip away culture, morality, and law, you’ll get some pure, original sexual essence. Spoiler: No such pure, original sexual essence exists.
Likewise, when a dominant introduces themselves as “Sir X” or “Master Z,” and implicitly expects you to refer to them as that title, they are flirting with this dangerous, toxic lie.
They are saying: “Dominance and submission are not a matter of choice or matter of negotiation. No, I am truly a Sir, and I expect to be called Sir because I said so.”
They are planting the idea in your head that they are a Sir. That, my friends, is non-consensual power play.
What’s most interesting to me is that this is something the previous generation knew very well. In my experience as a young leather boy, it was always either explicit or implicit that “Sir” and “Master” were titles earned.
But I’ve noticed this trend, particularly among kinksters who seem to believe that calling themselves a thing— especially online— and then going around propping up the thing itself— is what kink is.
While that works to an extent online — where everyone is trying to prop up the fantasy and doing so is expected — this is a very sophomoric way of understanding kink. If I can convince enough people that the façade I am putting forth is true, it will be true. It’s almost the ultimate extension of ‘fake it till you make it’ that favors gloss and sheen over substance and sustained effort.
So the next time that someone introduces themselves as “Sir Adam” ask them “Did you earn that?” Or, just better yet, call them Adam and see what they do. If they insist that you call them Sir, they’ve revealed that they are the one who has shown that they do not have a healthy distinction between fantasy and reality.
As Dossie Easton and Janet Hardy wrote, “We have a name for people who cannot distinguish fantasy from reality: Crazy.”
Let’s reduce the crazy and come back down to reality. I’m all for scene names and respecting people’s pronouns he/she/they/zir, etc. You absolutely should call someone by their chosen name (unless the name itself is a form of powerplay, like “YourNewGod”) and gender pronoun.
But let’s recognize the titles and honorifics for what they are: Power games. Want to play a power game? Yes, yes I do. But I want it to be based on consent, negotiation, and two or more parties engaging on a level playing field for negotiation. If you start our relationship by telling me you have power over me, that’s a form of violence.
Like I said, it’s subtle. It’s perfectly appropriate to introduce yourself in a large group as your honorific, as long as you make it clear that this is what you go by, or known as, or some people call you this. As long as you make it clear that you aren’t expecting everyone to call you Sir or Master, I think that’s fine. It demonstrates a humility in your dominant expression that is both appropriate and well-received by submissives. It suggests that you’d like to be called Sir (or, in my case, King), but you acknowledge that it is something you have to earn with each and every submissive you earn it from.
That’s how BDSM has always been, and that’s how it should be. Anyone who tells you that there is a social contract that indicates people should be called ‘Sir’ or ‘Alpha’ before they’ve earned that submission from you is attempting to construct a power-over dynamic artificially, and you should stop them in their tracks and recognize that kind of non-consensual power play for what it is: a hoax.