Vanilla is Delicious

The word 'vanilla' is often used to mean 'not kinky' or at least 'not as kinky as me'. Often this word seems to be used in a disparaging way, as if those with so-called vanilla tastes are somehow less enlightened than those of us who like to whip out the odd pair of handcuffs.

Two things spring to mind when I hear the word used this way:

1) You don't really know what those 'vanilla' folks are getting up to behind closed doors. Your friends, your neighbours, even dear old Granny, could well be into things way out of your comfort zone.

2) Vanilla is delicious.

There's a reason vanilla is the standard flavour of ice cream. Because it's yummy. Because it goes with everything. Because everyone likes it. And because it is so wonderful at putting other flavours into scrumptious contrast.

I am certain that from the outside my husband and I appear vanilla. And that's fine with me! Because most of the things we get up to are vanilla. When you're living 24/7 D/s, it can't all be kneeling and nudity. At some point, the bills have to be paid and the dishes have to be washed and you can't take the car to be serviced whilst wearing only a pair of nipple clamps and some six inch stilettos (well you can, but you shouldn't). Most of the time, I don't even call him Sir or Master. The dynamic is always there beneath the surface of course, because it's an integral part of our relationship. But most of the actual day to day activities are very vanilla. My service to him is translated into caring for the family and the home. His orders more frequently relate to running errands or staying healthy that they do to begging and crawling. Friday night was spent cuddled on the sofa, watching bad movies and wearing... wait for it... baggy pyjamas. And it was lovely.

I love our vanilla moments - a trip to the cinema, a quiet family dinner, a snuggle in bed. And best of all, when the kinky mood strikes or the sadist comes out to play, the contrast is all the more striking and beautiful.