Still a Girl
I catch myself sometimes envying vanilla girls. It’s true… surprising to hear, perhaps, but true. How could I do otherwise, given the fact that they get one of the things I want, and which is so incredibly rare within the lifestyle.
They get treated like girls.
I have been in the lifestyle for a fair number of years. I have lived, observed, and listened to accounts of things which has provided me with a pretty well rounded picture of what goes on. See, in the lifestyle it has become common practice to treat a submissive girl with far less respect than one would treat a vanilla girl. Respect aside for the moment, it is also common to simply treat her as though the very act of her entering the community and recognizing her submissive nature stripped her of the need, much less the right, to regular things that a boy does with a girl that he’d like to get to know… asking her to dinner, for example. Calling her at random times just to chat. Bringing her flowers. Picking her up for a date . Holding her hand while walking through the zoo. Just regular things, mind you… not wallowing in excess or asking a dominant man to kiss her ass (that might come later, in a much different way) in some groveling, worshipful way. It’s basic stuff, treating her with dignity and care, and actually getting to KNOW her before trying to CONTROL her.
Now, back to respect… when men in the lifestyle approach me (online, I mean… I rarely go to local munches these days, for a variety of reasons), the majority of the time they do so in ways that they would NOT attempt with a vanilla girl. Maybe they call me names in the opening message… slut, whore, subbie (I HATE subbie… gah), pig (okay, hate that one even more than subbie), little one (not offensive in and of itself, but forward in the lifestyle just as ‘darling’ might be to some in the vanilla world. It’s a pet name, something usually reserved (or should be) for two people who are on intimate terms and are enmeshed in some kind of relationship), etc. Perhaps they describe the sexual acts they’d like me to do/like to do to me/want to watch me do to others (yes, this is a common thing, having explicit sexual content thrown in one’s face from the get go). Maybe they start trying to sling orders at me, regardless of the fact they don’t even KNOW me, much less OWN me. There are a variety of ways things can be inappropriate, and I never know how many of them they will choose to inflict on me, but the point is…? They somehow have it in their head that the basic manners and consideration that is generally afforded to a vanilla girl need not be applied to a girl in the lifestyle. Respect becomes a discarded option.
I think, perhaps, it is partly something that I would have thought we, as an alternative, outside-the-box, non-judgmental group, were safe from… the age-old Madonna/whore mindset. That we submissive girls, as mostly more sexually open, aware, and adventurous creatures, are somehow less deserving of respect and kindness than the vanilla girls who would swoon in horror (more often than not) at the very IDEA of doing even half of what we ENTHUSIASTICALLY do. Even though the men in the lifestyle are chomping at the figurative bit to get to do those things WITH us, the very act of giving them what they want appears to then ensure we don’t get things WE want. You would think it would be the other way around… that the girl most likely to satisfy a man’s deepest desires and match him in needs would be the girl that gets the most positive attention, and the most respect for opening herself up to him (emotionally and mentally… get your mind out of the gutter). But that doesn’t appear to be the case.
Generally when men engage me in conversation, if they live within a drivable distance that allows for the possibility of meeting face to face, what I get, instead of a fairly standard and expected, “Would you like to go to dinner on Friday?”, is either an offer of meeting just for coffee ‘and then we’ll see what happens after (as in IMMEDIATELY after) that’ (seriously? (…) SERIOUSLY?) or, more commonly, “Why don’t you invite me over to your place?” It’s about as subtle as a fart in church… they want to get you naked as fast as possible, and you’re not even worth the time and effort of dinner and conversation before attempting to make that happen.
I recently was approached by a man I’ve known, though have not kept in consistent touch with, for about 7 years. He recently became single, and said he thought of me and wanted to get together. He suggested we meet for ‘wine and conversation’. I thought he meant exactly what he said… MEET for wine and conversation, ergo pick a mutually enjoyable location and go forth, right? As it turned out, not so much. He wanted to come over to my place, drink and play. When I mentioned that we wouldn’t be playing on the first meeting (if we ever DID play… no idea if that would have happened someday or not), he was a bit indignant, chewing me out a tad for trying to put ‘restrictions’ on him. I was floored. Since when is playing the expectation versus the bonus? Since when is it okay to approach me in such a way, when I feel certain that a vanilla girl wouldn’t get HER chops busted for not wanting to get naked the first time she meets up with someone in a ‘we’re both single now, let’s see what happens’ way. Then again, the vanilla girl would likely not have ever been put in the position to feel that pressured before even standing in someone’s presence. Sure, vanilla girls get their moments of push as the date progresses, but that’s not what I’m talking about. Gah. As it turned out, the man in question finally asked me out, then stood me up when he realized that play was likely truly off the table for that evening. It was like a slap in the face… apparently I was, to him, only worth seeing if he had a good shot at getting to fuck me brainless before the night was over. Do you have ANY idea how icky that makes a girl feel?
For the record, I will wrap up with this… I am a sexual being. I enjoy kinky things. I am submissive. I thrive on being told what to do, by the right person with the right intentions. I am both the girl next door and the partner in crime. I am the caretaker and sexual firecracker. I sometimes curse like a sailor, but other times (it’s complicated…) I turn beet red at just the suggestion of certain words or phrases. I’m complex, but my needs, overall? Are simple. At the end of the day, what I wish everyone would remember…
I’m still just a girl.
- The Girl in the Woman (Jan 2017)
SUPER RELEVANT RIGHT NOW
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