A master, best suited for a dominant role

"A master? Really? I can't see that for shite, unless being shite at following my orders counts as 'dominant,'" the old commander snarled, waving one hand dismissively. "Listen, do you understand who you're dealing with? These women are legends. They're the strongest women in the city– no, the kingdom, I'd wager– and you're gonna try to take that tone with them? Most of them are older than you in years, many of them are greater than you in stature, and they've all got experience well beyond yours in combat and... in everything, really."

You told him the fact that you were bold enough to say this straight to his face ought to be all the proof he needed. You were confident. You knew that the saintesses would appreciate your openness and honesty in this regard. In fact, you'd wager that the women had probably never had an opportunity to meet someone who'd take this sort of position with them in a romantic setting. It might be refreshing for them.

"But... you?"

You reminded him that how you act on the day to day under his teaching does not necessarily speak to your abilities in the bedroom.

"Bloody hells, my sword and my career to understand where you squires get the balls! But if that's what you want on the form, that's what I'll put on there. Don't blame your old teacher when you're staring back from the wrong side of a leash and feeling the fool for all that bluster."