There’s something about the word bitch.

Slut, whore, words like that, they all tend to have a lot more accountability. A lot more agency. They seem to be a direct result of the things you choose to do and you sort of own them. My reactions to being called these words during play usually have a degree of smugness to them. It’s an accusation of being the sort of person who enjoys this stuff. And I’m confirming it.

But, bitch, I don’t know. It’s rougher. It screams ownership, subjugation. It reduces you to something animal-like, primal, something that relies on just instinct and physical cues. Simpler thoughts and more visceral reactions usually accompany being called this or having to call myself this. 

I guess I should clarify that I kind of love/hate/love the word bitch.