Archive for the ‘vanilla’ Category
I wrote this post earlier about how some people call lovely, attentive, considerate behaviour from a man ‘submissive’ instead of thinking of it simply as the behaviour of a fabulous man in love.
I coined the term ‘vanilla submissive’ to refer to vanilla men I have been with whose behaviour is pretty much exactly what I expect from my submissive. Only, they weren’t my submissive.
The comments on my previous post were lively and quite wonderful, and raised the very valid question of “well, what is the difference between ‘vanilla submissive’ and ‘D/s submissive’” and I thought my view on that would be too long (and much too important!) for a comment, and you will see from this rambling why I made a post about it (even though I could probably have summarised it into a paragraph, I am practising for NaNo, which is all about the volume, you know!).
To me, the difference between a vanilla submissive and a D/s submissive is not in the behaviours, which might be pretty much the same, but in the explicit agreement to the way the power dynamic will work and the motivation for it. The agreement part is pretty clear, but it is motivation that makes it work. D/s submissives who are compatible with me (big qualifier there!) have all of the motivations of vanilla submissives (love, sweetness, wanting to make me happy etc) *plus* they see acts of dominance from me as not only acceptable, but desirable as a way of expressing love.
See, I could have ended the post right there, but there’s more, you see…
A vanilla submissive does things ‘when he feels like it’. A non-vanilla submissive does things ‘when he feels like it, but even if he doesn’t, that’s what we agreed, so he will do it anyway and be happy that I used my authority to push him to do it’.
Let me explain why I draw the line so easily.
I call what I have an obedience kink, but it’s more than a kink. It’s a necessity for me to be happy. A vanilla submissive will do what I want *most times*, but there is no explicit agreement that he will, so he can say ‘no’ any time, he can argue any time, he can refuse any time, he can just ‘not do’ things because he doesn’t feel like it. And that’s 100% fair enough. From my side, I have to accept it, or fight about it: I really have no right to say a word about it because that just makes me a demanding unreasonable bitch because my man won’t do what I want, especially when he is so lovely and does it most of the time.
What I need as my counterpart is a strong man who enjoys me exercising my authority in the relationship, who sees it as an expression of love, versus someone who feels as if he is endlessly giving with little return because he will end up being unhappy with the unfairness of it all.
In my experience, eventually the vanilla submissive will resent ‘giving’ *all the time* and he will start to feel as if it’s unfair (which it is), then I will start feeling guilty about not compromising more (I have a huge capacity for guilt) and off we go downhill at a rapid rate.
So what makes a D/s submissive is that we have agreed how the relationship will work, and that dynamic is, in and of itself, a big part of what makes each of us happy. I want him to be bouncing with joy when I assert my authority, I want to feel as if ‘who I am’ in being that way is not only accepted but that he adores it, and I want him to feel as if my telling him to get me a drink is a whisper of love in his ear.
I often hear people describe behaviours that they consider to be indicative of a great submissive, but when I think about it for a moment, they often aren’t. What they are describing is often the behaviour of a wonderful, quality man. Perhaps a man in love, or in lust, or infatuated, or one who is trying to impress a date or one who is simply one of those lovely creatures who enjoys doing things for a woman he enjoys and respects.
How is it that ‘doing things for someone to make them happy’ is suddenly submission and not the pretty normal behaviour of someone in a relationship (or on the way there)? Where is that line anyway?
Since learning about BDSM and looking back, I coined the term ‘vanilla submissives’ to describe those vanilla men I was in relationships with who would go out of their way to make me happy, not because they identified as submissive, but because they genuinely wanted me to be happy. I had relationships with those men without us ever discussing any ‘rules of behaviour’ or ‘authority’ or ‘obedience’ or any of that D/s stuff. They were vanilla, but in many ways their behaviour *looked* very much like that of the very best of submissives… consideration, anticipatory service, making my life easier, deferring to my decisions, loving my lead in the bedroom. In many ways, my ‘vanilla submissives’ would put many actual self identified submissives to shame.
I recently went away for a long weekend with my last vanilla ex, who has remained a wonderful friend and who is the very definition of awesome vanilla submissive.
The way he is with me, and was with me throughout our relationship, makes me wonder where the line is between love and submission. He is an incredibly giving and considerate man, the kind of vanilla man I have managed to find and fall in love with more than once, and he is that way with genuine sincerity, because it gives him pleasure to see me happy.
To illustrate, for our few days away, he:
- did the research, planned the details and booked accommodation and wineries
- offered to drive both ways (eight hours in total)
- insisted that I choose the bedroom I wanted in the house we stayed at
- brought my favourite champagne
- brought food that I like so that he could cook meals if I didn’t want to go out
- brought snacks that he knows I enjoy
- was the designated driver the entire time we were there despite my offers (wineries, people, *wineries*!)
- researched restaurants and then asked which I preferred for dinner
- rented Spartacus series 1 to watch, even though he had already seen it, because I had said I loved the second series
- offered to let me start the fire every night, even though I know he really loves doing that also
- offered foot massages
- served me champagne, snacks, wine etc., and consistently checked to make sure I had what I wanted
In short, he knows what I like and he delivered it with grace and charm and no expectations. I would add (for the cynical!) that he does not behave this way in order to ‘win me back’, this is what he is like with all of the women in his life who he enjoys and respects.
This is pretty much how I expect men in my relationships to behave, submissive or not. This is not just what submissive men look like, this is what wonderful men look like, isn’t it?
4.45am
I am already awake when the radio comes on… it is early *checks the clock*… I yawn just writing that… it is early and awful… I am really not a morning person, I am cranky.
I roll over and smack it to turn it off… *groan*… lie there for a few moments, stalling…
My computer is right *there*… I turn it on, check emails from bed… usually at least one of them will make me smile.
I tumble out of bed, rub my eyes, I sleep nude, it is cool this early. I grab a sarong and wrap it around myself, head to the bathroom. Look in the mirror… ugh… eye drops, shower on, the water too hot, always, even in summer…
My ex (not ‘my boy’, another ex… I have them hanging around…) is staying with me at the moment… long story. I hear him in the kitchen. He is up at this ungodly hour, surprising… I hear chopping…
I am wrapped in fabric as I step out of the bathroom, wave a bleary hello to my ex on the way back to the bedroom.
I petulantly grab things from the wardrobe, put on black g-string, black bra, jeans, a fitted top… pad into the kitchen in time for the noise of the juice maker. Orange, apple, beetroot, celery, zuchini, carrot, ginger… he hands me a big green plastic cup of juice… I smile and thank him, terribly sweet. He heads back to bed.
I take the juice back into the bathroom, gulp it while I moisturise. Brush my teeth, lip gloss, check the time. Pull on boots. Trudge off to work resentfully.
And so the day begins.
In the last 24 hours, on two separate occasions, I have told two vanilla men that I write ‘a sex blog’ and given them the name of it *.
That’s two vanilla men who I met while going about my business.
That’s two vanilla men who have my real name and phone number.
That’s two vanilla men who can now peek in here (hello R, L… yes, yes, this post is totally about you!).
That’s two more vanilla men than I have ever told EVER EVER EVER (unless my vanilla ex counts… he doesn’t does he? No no, he totally doesn’t)!
The first very unvanilla vanilla man took one look at the name of the blog and *knew* exactly what it was.
The other vanilla man looked bemused at the name.
– “Hmmm… well, I will have to go and have a look then…”
– *laugh* “Yes, yes you will…”
It felt really very strange.
* I might expand on the reasons *why* I told them later… for now suffice it to say that there *was* a reason, I did not blurt it out in a tourettes-like fit without context
He was supposed to be on a conference call with me, we were doing a presentation to other senior North American colleagues. We had prepared for it over the past week, had done a run through the day before. I was doing the initial talking, and would hand over to him for his section. He was late, I had one of the men in the meeting give him a call… no answer. I started without him.
We got to his section and he still hadn’t turned up. I swore silently, apologised to the meeting participants for what would no doubt be a ‘bumbling through’, and presented his content myself, inelegantly and awkwardly. He showed up 10 minutes before the end of the meeting, to cat calls and derision from everyone. He was terribly, awfully apologetic, he had mistaken the start time. I let the furore on the call die down, he was still apologising.
“Jerry, sit at the back of the class and be quiet”.
There were sniggers.
“Okay…” he replied. *silence*
I laughed and finished off the meeting.
Afterwards, he was so so sorry, he felt just horrible, he said he wouldn’t feel right until he made it up to me. He offered to help with similar meetings in other regions (which may well be 2am in the morning for him), sincerely and genuinely wanting to make amends. I wasn’t angry, but I was annoyed, I didn’t reply to his messages.
Later that day, I sent out an email to Europe and Asia Pacific, volunteering his services for these midnight and early morning meetings without checking with him further.
He sent me this response:
Thank you Ferns!
jerry
He *thanked* me for punishing him. And, lower case sign off?!!! Really?!! So funny!
That just about made my day.
He is a work colleague: smart, driven, funny, engaging, good at his job. I like him and enjoy working with him. We talked all the time on the phone, but had never met because, well, he’s in North America and I am not.
We were on a call, I was carefully trying to explain something to him, he was distracted, obviously doing something else over there across the ocean. I got exasperated and snapped at him.
“Stop that and pay attention! You *know* boys can’t multi-task!”
He was shocked, he sincerely and sheepishly apologised, agreed with me that no, boys can’t multi-task, and we continued with what we were doing.
We met sometime after that at a conference, it was lovely to put a face to the name, we got along well. As part of these things, of course, there are drinks after the day’s agenda is over. I meet a lot of men (always men!) at these conferences that I work with from all over the world, but have never seen face to face.
I approached a group of them at the bar one evening, and found him gleefully recounting the story of me telling him off to all of them, just like a submissive would show off to his kinky friends about the beating he got! I joined them, he beamed at me, all proud of himself, it amused me greatly, I probably smirked at him. I asked him to get me a drink, and off he trotted.
The next day over lunch, he sat beside me. I pointed out that the table had no salt. He jumped up to get some. During the course of the meal, I had him fetch a napkin from the waiter, get extra cutlery when I dropped a fork, order me another drink, and then go and get me dessert. He was eager and compliant. During the rest of the day, he opened doors, he made sure I always had a seat, he checked if I needed anything, he smiled a lot. It was truly lovely.
*happy sigh*
Sometimes it takes very little for me to get a little domly fix.
—
Edited to add: a little more on him here…
Once upon a time, I went out with vanilla boys, before I found any BDSM community, and after also. I was thinking recently about vanilla and submissive dates… they are quite different in my experience. Submissive men tend to wait, they are a little afraid of taking initiative in case they get it wrong, so they wait to be led, which is fine with me, but there are many many ways to show interest that can hardly turn out badly. All they need to do is ask themselves the question ‘will this make her happy?’ Vanilla men take that initiative, and to me, it looks like submission.
A Vanilla Boy
On our first date, he invited me to his place. He had made snacks: water crackers with pate, tiny toast with hot salami and tomato, hommous with corn chips, a home made salmon dip, beautifully presented on a platter out on the deck.
We talked, he showed me around his new apartment, I commented on his amazingly soft towels, he fed me bite sized mouthfuls and champagne.
When I left, I kissed him, exploratory and soft, he let me lead, leaning down to me, not trying to take more than was offered.
“Just curious,” I said when I broke away from him.
“You can be as curious as you like,” he replied, flirty and smiling.
The next time I saw him, he had a gift for me. Two towels, incredibly soft ones, just like the ones that I had made comment on, a signal that he had paid attention, then acted on it.
As the relationship progressed, he would take notice of everything I said, without appearing to notice. He would file it away, and at some point, that book I mentioned would appear under my pillow, that favourite food my mother used to make would come out of the oven, that ‘impossible to get’ CD would turn up in my collection, he would ask me whether I wanted him to wear this, or that, he would give me options for outings and let me decide, he would leave sweet notes in his wake, he would cook for me, he would give me foot massages, he would serve me drinks, take my car into the shop, do most of the housework.
“Vanilla submissives”, I call them, and I have been lucky enough to attract them all my life. But really, they are just boys who want to make me happy, and they don’t get anything out of it except the hope that they were responsible for a bit of that happiness. Well, obviously they are wanting more of me, but they don’t get a thrill out of it, there is no special headspace it takes them to, there is nothing in it for them in *that* way. They just want to make me happy.
Sometimes submissive men lose sight of that simple premise in all the talk of serving and giving pleasure and ‘being submissive’… I’m not sure why that is.
Whispered in my ear
Tom Allen on Check my workouts!
And here's another one: http://www.myfitnesspal.com/ Phone apps, plus fairly standard calorie tracking tools. Forums, friends list, etc. It's mainly a diet/ weight loss...Ferns on Check my workouts!
Thanks for that, Harlequin. I did look up a bunch of sites (including that one) before I decided on Jefit,...Ferns on Domme: Online training
Ugh, shame that the change in routine interrupted your plans. I know what you mean. Congrats on the new job,...Harlequin on Check my workouts!
You should check out http://www.fitocracy.com It's a site for tracking your exercise and earning points and levelling up. It's a really...Tom "Work It" Allen on Domme: Online training
Actually, if you allow youself one (!) tiny little ice cream sandwich after a workout, it's good recovery fuel.