Friends were in town the other week. I haven’t seen them in years, so of course I was looking forward to catching up. As it was part of the family vacation, they had their children with them. So the natural thing to do with kids on a warm summer day, is to go for ice cream.
I have written on Meal Control before. Having ice cream requires permission. And because I am a good girl, usually, I asked for said permission and it was granted. I have also mentioned that I hate making decisions and every now and then, I enjoy having things decided for me. I also had been feeling the urge to submit more than usual. All that lead me to asking Sir whether he’d like to choose which ice cream I’d have. He replied that I could choose myself, but to keep him informed.
I was disappointed. I really wanted him to choose, I needed him to choose. But in the other hand, I wanted him to want to. It’s not the same when he does something because I want him to do it and not because he wants to. And even more so during that time. He had been working hard and before that we had a bit of a hard time. I didn’t want him to decide because I wanted it, but because he wanted it. Hard to explain really.
I said “thank you Sir” and didn’t bring it up again. While I thought it was a pity, it wasn’t the end of the world. And most importantly, I would have ice cream and that is always good. On the next day, before meeting my friends, we managed to have a call and during that call I was told to send him the ice cream place’s menu. A few minutes later I got the instructions to have
A scoop of Mocca and a scop of Hazelnut
My body’s reaction was amazing. I got so wet and excited and I felt so wonderfully submissive. It’s not often that I really get to feel that way. Not because I don’t want to nor because he’s not doing a good job. But mostly because I don’t let myself feel that way. I have this something inside my head, which holds me back. I find it hard to get overly excited, for example. I assume it has to do with past experiences and disappointments and hurt. I’m extra cautious, I’d say.
But at that moment, I was so surprised by my reaction that I simply let it happen. I kept playing it back over and over in my head, and every single time, it felt as great as the first time.
Today I met a friend. She suggested ice cream and again I asked for permission. I hoped he’d choose again, but there was no notion of that. Which was fine, but as I was leave work, I decided to drop a hint. So I mention we’d go to the same ice cream place as last time.
“That is good” was all I got in return. It was not meant to be, this time, I decided. My friend was running late, and I checked the menu, while I waited. There were some options, but I wasn’t sure. As she was out a couple of minutes, I decided to use the time and do some grocery shopping. After that I sat down on a bench, to wait for her and write this post.
I could’ve simply told him how I felt or asked for him to choose. But again, in my mind it’s not the same and I don’t think I would enjoy it as much. Therefore I began writing – another reason was that I have to write a post this week and I had no idea what to write about. I was at about the part he told me which ice cream to get, I received a text.
Sir asked me whether I had already chosen what I’ll have. While I had some options, I hadn’t made a decision and was still waiting on my friend.
Link me the menu again please
I did as I was told and began being excited. I typed more words as I waited for his decision.
One scoop of Vanilla and one scoop of Mango
Vanilla? Was he being serious? While there are some flavours I dislike, vanilla is not one of them. But it’s the most boring flavour there is. There is a reason why non-kinky stuff is referred to as vanilla. Not that something is wrong with vanilla sex or vanilla ice cream, but somehow it felt wrong. Even boring.
I checked: “Vanilla Sir?” There would’ve been disbelief in my voice and a similar look in my eyes, if it wasn’t a text.
“Yes, vanilla my little slut”
And there it was again. That amazing feeling washing over me. I had to close my eyes and enjoy for a second. It felt so good and so right.
I did as I was told. Ordering a scoop of vanilla felt so weird. Who does that? Why would anyone do that? There are so many interesting, tasty, exciting flavours to chose from.
But I did. Because I was told to. Because I wanted to be told to. Because I wanted to be made to have it. Because I love it.
Apparently there are plenty more things more boring than vanilla ice cream.
And for the record:
The vanilla ice cream was not that bad, pretty good actually. The mango on the other hand, kind of meh…