Even if I’m Femme, I’m Her Sir

This post is dedicated to all the Femme Daddies and Sirs out there. 

I walk into the house, in leather dress shoes and pants. She sees me, smiles, hooks her fingers in my belt, calls me Sir.

I moonwalk into the room, wearing a coat and hat. She sees me, laughs, puts the hat on and calls me a dork. I raise an eyebrow. She clarifies and calls me Sir.

I strut into the dungeon, my heels clicking on the tiles, my eyeliner on point, my dress slinky and tight. She looks me up and down. Calls me her beautiful Sir.

As a non-binary switch who uses mixed pronouns (she/they), D/s has always been an interesting form of gender expression. My submissive characteristics are sweet and cute, bratty and sarcastic, and almost always feminine. I love to be called good girl when I’m feeling subby. When I’m with a dominant that likes to be called Daddy, I am safe and cherished and loved as their little girl – but I react strongly against its use by anyone else.

If I switch, how I present myself changes. My dominant self is sadistic and cares deeply. She swings heavily between nurture of her subs and complete ownership. I love being called Mistress. But I love being called Sir even more.

I shied away from the term for a long while – I wasn’t an overly masculine person.  I still flinch if someone uses he/him, for various reasons. How could I use such a loaded masculine term? For many, Sir conjures images of a man in a suit. A dominant who walks into a room of lingerie clad women and owns them because he is a man, not because he has earned the respect of a submissive. I didn’t identify with that picture. It reeked of the binary, masc as dominant, femme as submissive. How could I allow myself to buy into that?

Yet, with each scene I have done with Pet, I found myself growing more comfortable with how I expressed my kink and myself. I met more dominants that I could admire and respect, who treated their subs with admiration and care. As we grew as a couple, she felt the same towards me and I felt like her Sir because that’s what she thought of me as well.

Gender does not define the honorific anymore. No matter how I dress or how I sound, where I fall on the femme/masc spectrum, I am her Sir. As she is my Pet.

If you found this article at all useful or interesting, you can buy Evie a coffee or follow her on Twitter.

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