D/s, Companions, and Doctor Who

I have recently discovered Doctor Who. Since September, I've watched all 6 seasons of the 2005 series, about half of the First Doctor episodes, a series and half of the 4th Doctor, all four seasons of Torchwood, the first cartoon, I've started the Sara Jane Chronicles, and have a tiny Tardis on my desk. This is in... less than 4 months? Yes. Less than 4 months.

I have never fangirled this hard in my life. My experience so far has been terrifying, obsessive, hilarious, fantastic, and feels a little bit like falling head over heels in love (complete with the warm fuzzies of sharing that love with everyone on the internet).

Additionally, I've been reading all sorts of interesting critiques of the most recent series and writers from many different angles. Recently, I was reading a relatively thorough feminist takedown of Moffat's last couple of seasons as compared to RTD's and I found this fascinating. They made a convincing argument that the show has gotten less feminist - which I will agree with to a certain point.

However, I found that a strictly feminist deconstruction only revealed half the story and was, in fact, limiting the discussion. To properly deconstruct the most recent series of Doctor Who from 2005 on, there MUST be a exploration of the D/s dynamic inside the Tardis, how the dominance trait expresses in each of the Companions, and how the show treats with those concepts.

I apologize ahead of time for terminology, but I have been breathing Doctor Who for weeks and my brain is switched into 'analyze all the things' mode.

**Let me make this very clear before I begin: When I am discussing dominance and submission as traits, I am not speaking about sexual dominance and submission. Socially, when you throw people in a room together, they'll sort themselves out into relationships. Each relationship with have shades of social D/s, some more equal than others, and all based around their natural tendencies. I, in expressing the dominant trait, have found that my experience has overarching trends of having power over others by default, sometimes in the weirdest ways.**

Also, this assumes you've watched until the end of season six. So. Spoilers. *grins*

Martha and Rose, Rose and Martha

The first two companions of the 2005 series, Rose and Martha, were both predominantly submissive. For both, they grew into leadership roles - or high-powered consultant roles - with Rose as "the Doctor of her own parallel universe" (I wish I could find the essay in which I found that assessment) and with Martha deeply enmeshed with UNIT, determined to fight the good fight. Competence and leadership in this instance, is not equated with a dominant personality, as giving orders is not the sole purview of dominant personalities. Both leadership and competence are learned skills and it is shown very clearly in both character arcs that they learn their leadership traits.

In fact, Rose herself notes this, in how she has come to view the world differently during her time as a Companion: "You don't just give up. You don’t just let things happen. You make a stand. You say "no." You have the guts to do what's right when everyone else just runs away." [Parting of the Ways. S1E13] She grew herself a backbone, a sense of purpose, passion, and drive.

Martha too takes a stand for herself after a very painful character arc in which she gets to play second-fiddle to a memory. She ends up telling off the Doctor, very politely of course, saying, "So this is me, getting out." [Last of the Time Lords. S3E13] It took an entire season for her to get to that point, to find out that she wasn't 'second best'.

Furthermore, both Martha and Rose seemed content to take their cues from individuals they trusted, and most often neither expected nor demanded behavior from others in general social interaction. The culminating arcs for both of them cast them in ultimate support roles. This can be taken two ways. First - it can be taken in a negative, 'Never as awesome as the man she supports' or it can be taken in a positive, 'She is the crucial linchpin of the plan, which could not succeed without her.'

Part of a feminist critique is that these ultimate support roles are damaging and, as a good friend pointed out, if the submissive, support roles are the only lauded actions for women, that it casts dominant women like me as anomalies and - often - villains. As celebrating only submissive actions casts any other actions as 'wrong'.

To make something clear, however, if a character is consistently portrayed as submissive, that is not inherently bad. It is only when encountering the ubiquity of submissive, female characters where things start to become problematic. When there is no variation nor Crowning Moment of Awesome for characters outside of their submissive roles, that's where things start to bog down.

Additionally, feminism is primarily about valuing both femininity and masculinity equally, not about giving women masculine traits and dumping femininity altogether. Then, too, submission long been closely associated with femininity, culturally if nothing else, and as one has been consistently seen as 'lesser', so too has the other. Because of this, badass roles, even AND especially support roles, performed by submissive-traited characters are something that need to happen. Just because the character becomes badass doesn't mean the submissive part of their makeup is shed like so much dead skin.

In light of this critique, however, taking a view of both characters, Martha and Rose, from the perspective of 'submissive personalities are awesome!' their characters are consistent. There is no sudden, unexpected bending of the knee. Their character growth flows from one beat to the next, resulting in two very powerful women who are feminine, self-possessed, and able get into and out of trouble with aplomb.

Donna

So, then, the first two companions appear submissive-traited. Donna, on the other hand, is a different story. From the very first, she is the ruling center of her own little world, despite the frequency with which her loudmouth insistence is thwarted or how much she suffers from a common Companion's malady, Crippling Self Doubt. As her character arc progresses and her caustic self-absorption mellows, the little instances of she's-in-charge begin to build a case for her to naturally be expressing the dominant trait as more than just a self-defense mechanism.

As the primary example, take Silence in the Library. Donna, through a series of events, marries a charming man with a stutter. At the end of the episode, she makes this comment about it: "I made up the perfect man. Gorgeous, adores me, and hardly able to speak a word. What's that say about me?" The Doctor, preoccupied, responds, "Everything." [Forest of the Dead S4E9]

Immediately after the little exchange, Donna acts offended at the Doctor's response, but this is a perfect example of her being, well, her. In contrast to Rose and Martha, she does demand, she does expect, and when she gets herself into trouble she obstreperously finds her way out of it, or at least tries. All of the Companions are tenacious, but Donna pursues her goals with the expectation the world will bend for her to achieve them.

With respect to the Doctor, however, she is cast in sort of a co-dominant-traited role. The pair of them are 'Partners in Crime', and as such are - for the most point - on equal footing. She demands the day off (in Midnight) and the Doctor potters off on an ill-fated sightseeing tour. The power imbalance inherent in an unrequited love plotline is absent, which - while such a plotline is not necessarily indicative of the submissive trait - leaves Donna free of being placed in a subordinate position. When she is released as a Companion, she snags a man who appears solicitous and willing to take her cues. A small mountain of instances outside of her relationship with the Doctor indicate that she is dominant-traited.

Amy Pond

Amy is flat out, 100% portrayed as dominant. For all of my issues with her as a character, this makes me squee every. single. time. it comes up. For goodness sake, there is even a joke about the Doctor and Rory being 'her boys'. I'm sorry, the Doctor and The Last Centurion are Amy's Boys. This pleases me to no end.

Further evidence takes the form of Rory taking his wife's name, of what they name their daughter, and of Rory and Amy's entirely relationship. There is no doubt of her in-charge-ness with respect to her husband. Further example, which takes this dipping into the realm of very mild kink, she shows up in 'The Christmas Carol' fresh from the honeymoon suite wearing a Sexy Police uniform, with Rory in his Centurion outfit. She leads. He follows. There may or may not be handcuffs and bodyguarding going on. Multiple references are made to how she bullies Rory into dressing up as her fantasies, and she relies on him to support her no matter what side of the galaxy she's on.

Last, but certainly not least, one of the ways she rescues the Doctor is demanding him back into existence. That particular sort of storyline fits right into my cup of kinks.

River Song

River Song is positioned, at the very first, to be dominant-traited, though her expression of those traits with respect to the Doctor start to become a little bit wobbly as the power dynamic of 'who knows more' shifts and changes. She starts her story line at the end of her character arc where she's powerful, knowledgeable, independent, and making jokes about handcuffs (like mother, like daughter?) at inappropriate moments and at the Doctor's expense.

After that, the Doctor invariably comes when she calls. She, too, is simply expects things to go as she plans. When they don't, she expects her backup to be there when she beckons. River, as we see her progressively younger, appears to revel in the little instances where she can exercise her knowledge and her power with respect to others.

Despite her sacrifices, she does not place herself subordinate to anyone but in the most superficial ways. Except - and this is where it's a bit tricky - to the Doctor. Sometimes. When their timelines give him more information about her than she has about him. Or when she feels like it. Which, often, she doesn't.

Strong Female Characters (tm)

Each Companion has gotten gradually more dominant than the last - enough to the point where I'm both curious and hesitant about the Companion after Amy and who ze will be. This dominance creep does not go entirely unappreciated by one such as myself.

However, while I appreciate the portrayal of dominant women in Doctor Who, I question the gradual ramp up of dominance as both a way of differentiating Companions from each other as well as attempt to portray 'stronger' and 'stronger' women.

One of the benefits of being able to compare the showrunners RTD and Moffat means that their individual writing quirks can be contrasted. During the RTD era, we get to see more of the Companion's arc, their character growth both regarding the Doctor as well as regarding their own lives and what they will be like after traveling in the Tardis. On the other hand, in Moffat's first two seasons - five and six -  the female Companions have no arcs outside of their relationships with the Doctor despite them both being ostensibly more badass to begin with.

And this is where it gets complicated. Am I to take this transition from following the Companion's character arcs as development in their own right to really only dealing with them (barring, what I understand, are several shorts on season six's box set) and their arcs with respect to the Doctor as something positive? I've heard it both ways, actually. That this trade-off of focus on the companions for the Doctor means that the show is now, once more, about the Doctor. The framing and focus are different.

This shift of focus away from the ensemble and onto the Doctor and the subsequent women he meets makes me think that Moffat is assuming that a woman's ability to tell the Doctor to STFU is her primary sign of strength. Because they are not as fully realized as Rose, Martha, and Donna, Amy and River are arguably less Strong Female Characters than RTD era Companions, despite the first two being submissive-traited. Amy and River's growth arcs are simply not explored.

But then, too, the plotlines of seasons five and six would have been received very differently - and perhaps quite badly - if Amy and River were not dominant-traited and thus seen as able to deal with anything, no matter how distressing.

Having Amy dominant appears an effort to keep Amy 'strong' but still treat her as, often, a damsel-in-distress. There is a certain amount of confusing and mixing 'strong' and dominant, as if her dominance offsets the fact that she spends most of a season kidnapped and elsewhere, and is given a pregnancy plotline with no screen-time to deal with. The fact that she is dominant and expects her boys to find and rescue her does give a bit of an ice-princess spin. Amy is once more expecting thing to happen, for the world to right itself on the shoulders of the men she believes in. But, for those assuming that she is submissive-traited, her waiting for rescuers takes on different - far more negative - shades of meaning. There is a lot of negative, too, in making it very clear that she is dominant, and then characterizing her as dependent on protectors and willing to wait stubbornly until they show up to make amazing things happen. There begins to be an element of 'Do it for me. Now.' that becomes strength only when she has no one else to do it for her. Which is rarely and is treated as extremely traumatic.

Her character shows very little real growth besides 'picking Rory' and her personality seems to consist of her simply being able to take whatever's thrown at her without flinching. She becomes adaptable more than anything else, and it is when she is ripped from the Doctor's side - in the episode The Girl Who Waited as well as the brief glimpses we get of her after she and Rory leave the Tardis - it is then that she achieves goals on her own merits.

For the first time in the new series, the Doctor doesn't seem to be doing his job of making people better than they were. Amy chooses Rory, yes, but realizing that there isn't anyone else for her but the steadfast man who has loved her all her life doesn't necessarily make her a better person. It is characterized as the better choice, yes, but all of Amy's character development occurs either while she is waiting for the Doctor and after she has left the Doctor. Amy, the most dominant woman portrayed on the modern Doctor Who, is cast as 'The Girl Who Waited'.

Problematics

There are several more ways, rather than just having Amy be characterized as a dominant whose requirements of service from her boys take her into the realm of helpless maiden, that the portrayal of dominance in season five and six are problematic.  

Much of Amy's characterization treats her dominance as a running joke. Her expectation, her dominance, is treated as a personality flaw to be tolerated. It's accompanied by rueful acknowledgment. The joke, however, reflects both on Amy-as-dominant as well as Rory-as-submissive. More than once, I've heard of Rory described as the 'bumbling boyfriend' of Companion Amy Pond, when his characterization is - obvious to me, at least - that of a dedicated submissive man deeply in love. His hopeless puppy eyes, following her around. When he tears up and runs from the room when she offhandedly mentions that she thought he was gay, because he is dedicated to her without making a play for her pants, making it clear that she calls the shots. It's played for laughs, for amusement, and (so help me) some of it is pretty funny.

In casting Rory as 'bumbling' at the beginning of his character arc, it very clearly makes his submission out to be kind of pathetic in the face of Amy's dedicated self-absorption (which is partially the source of her dominance). That's why when he has a growth arc to become the sort of badass helpmate that a dominant woman deserves, I began to adore his character. Then again, I have a soft spot for men willing to go ridiculous lengths for the women they love. He becomes a badass submissive-traited man and is loved for it.

But Amy never really gets over herself, and when she flirts with herself, it's supposed to be hilarious - though I personally find it a little cringeworthy. Everything has to be her way, and there is no room for anyone else. Only the two most epic men in the world are able to hold her attention for very long. (To add a third: I really want her to meet Jack Harkness. Now that would be hilarious.) She ends up very one-note. It happens to be a note I would like, if it wasn't portrayed as a source of hilarity as well as negative.

One of the ways that Amy's dominance is negative is that it is linked to sexual aggression that is, at times, borderline - or depending who you are, not borderline at all - transgressive. She is overtly sexual and, at one point, nearly assaults the Doctor when he drops her off in her room after part of their adventures. Her sexual aggression - which is made clear is part of her dominance - is treated as dangerous and in need of deflection.

River, too, falls into the characterization of dominant women as overtly sexual, though hers varies between aggressive and enthusiastic. River's primary weapon is lipstick of varying kinds - hallucinogenic and poison at the very least. It's a detail that makes me wonder how she can wear it and not be affected, which is ultimately beside the point but still. The Doctor's first kiss with her is filmed with him flailing about, only partially pleased and extremely surprised, making it clear that the action was entirely her own initiative and - at least at the beginning of their interactions - she is the one putting the moves on him. So far, in series five and six, though River gradually changes into a less sure version of herself, she is still often shown as the instigator of intimate touch. Which the Doctor doesn't mind and seems to enjoy, though 11's awkward alien nature means that River more or less must show overt intimate dominance or no-one would be kissing anyone.

The difference between Amy and River and their acceptability as a match for the Doctor, then, appears to be not the simple fact that they are both inclined to start something - which isn't unreasonable for a dominant personality from my perspective - but that Amy's dominance is ramped up enough so that it becomes a dangerous thing for the Doctor because she starts ignoring reciprocal cues. In the same vein of 'if it doesn't fit her world, she pays no attention to it', most of his protests are simply ignored.

A factor in Amy's 'my world, my rules' drive becoming a caricature of itself is the link of dominance to madness. Both Amy and River have had ridiculous childhoods that left them damaged in some way. River grew up as a sociopath, a troublemaker, and someone encouraged to use her sex appeal as a weapon. Amy ends up dismissing most of reality's relevance through her insistence upon the reality of her childhood imaginary friend. Both of them grew up in places that made no sense, with experiences that had holes in them, whether because of the Silence or the Tardis-created crack in reality. Amy is mentioned as having had multiple psychiatrists that she's visited trying to convince her away from her steadfast belief in the Doctor.

A sample of two isn't very many, but Amy and River's dominance is used another signal of their difference. When River regenerates from Mels, her posturing, floofing her hair, and examining her rear end and her subsequent tango and smooch with the Doctor, it's supposed to be a little bit wild and a little bit weird. Her insistence, expectation, dominance is set up as part of that dance. It's some of why the Doctor likes her, but it's also to show that she's a little bit crazy.

Amy's different because she believes in the Doctor and this unshakable faith allows her to impose her will upon reality (until it backfires, of course, which leads me to believe that Moffat knows exactly what sort of character he has created). River is different because she grew up with a laser-focused goal and the training to support her in allowing her to take anything she feels like taking from the universe. For both River and Amy, the two ideas, madness and dominance, are tied together, one supporting the existence of the other, the dominance treated like accepted madness.

River, though, in some of her characterization, leaves me with the impression that she becomes less a character as her role progresses and more of a Black Leather and Lace Fantasy. She is, to put it very simply, amazing. She's better at flying the Tardis than the Doctor, she's good with a gun to the point where she can shoot a Silence without seeing it, she has given me unrealistic expectations about hair (a quote I stole from a tumblr image), is capable, intelligent, ruthless, and deliberately over the top.

It's the over-the top part of her personality that makes her seem more like wish fulfillment than a three-dimensional character, especially in contrast to her cool, competent portrayal as Professor Song in Silence In the Library/Forest of the Dead. She has gradually crept into being a larger-than-life version of herself, a fanboy's version of the perfect woman for the Doctor. Still, her character portrayal as both dominant and the perfect match alleviates some of the problematic pressure framing Amy as dangerous to the Doctor. River is supposed to be ridiculous and fantastic, the Doctor is supposed to see her as ridiculous and fantastic, and River as dominant gets to be just another reason why the Doctor thinks she's ridiculous and fantastic.

Molto Bene

Wrapping up, and to end on a happy note, as far as I can tell Rory loves Amy because she's Amy, because she's dominant, and because he wants to. The Doctor loves the way River is River, the more he gets to know of her. I, for one, love the shit out of Doctor Who as a show because - despite all of the problematic tics - they still have Companions that are dominant women. There's not enough portrayals of dominant women in media, especially sympathetic dominant women, especially not ones we're supposed to love like the iconic Companions.

That said, a clear critique of said portrayals is part of how I must respond. I am not particularly inclined to simply accept Amy as-is because she is imminently relatable for me, nor because I am also a writer and understand how Moffat's characterization are entirely logical from a character-building standpoint. Despite understanding this, I still want to point out some of the patterns that I'm seeing and how they relate to a woman's dominance. I want this particular little trait of mine - which affects all sorts of things that I never realized and am still discovering - to be treated with the same casual understanding that submissive women and dominant men do. That point has not yet come and without a dominant woman's perspective on dominant women in media, the understanding of individuals like myself might never be refined to a point where it can become casual.

From where I'm standing, a feminist critique of the most recent Doctor Who is simply not complete without taking into account dominant and submissive traits. It's another layer of complexity that, when treated as 'all submissive actions for women make us look bad' and 'all dominant actions for women are the only way to have a Strong Female Character' is equally as damaging as 'all dominant actions by women are dangerous' and 'all submissive actions by women are proper'. Doctor Who as a show kind of wobbles around these ideas, touching on issues and then gallivanting off somewhere else. It's an adventure no matter what angle it's viewed from.

Next season, season 7, will have a new Companion - hopefully - and things will change yet again. There will be a new dynamic to the entire wacky experience that may shed new light on Moffat's writing tics and clarify other aspects of characterization. New things to think about, new shows to enjoy, new people to meet. *whews* For a 'kid's' show, Doctor Who sure does engage both the imagination and the analytical centers of my brain.

Dominance and Submission spectrum model

So, I've been contemplating - in a sort of bubbling-at-the-back-of-my-mind sort of way - and have decided on the most effective model of dominance and submission is the concept of faceted gemstones.

Let me explain.

So, let's say that dominance is fuchsia and submission is chartreuse. Everyone you know holds a gemstone of some sort that has both of those colors that shine through when the light hits it. Every time the holder meets someone, they hold up the stone so that the other person sees one particular facet.

If the person is more-or-less dominant and they meet a more-or-less submissive, the color of the facet they see will reflect how submissive that person is to that particular dominant. They might see a neutral purplish-green or they might see a straight-up-full-submission chartreuse. The overall color the gemstone never changed for either of them, but the angle of the light, the way the person is holding it, the personality of the holder, and other factors all made that particular facet reflect that particular color.

So - that's about it. A big fat 'it depends' in analogy form. I think this model is more or less useful, though, especially for people who don't really claim either end of the spectrum as a personality trait. If they're more towards the middle of things and different individuals bring out more dominant behavior versus more submissive behavior, then it is by far and away easily explained that their gemstone is a balanced mix of colors and the people they meet simply get to see different facets.

My gemstone is predominantly fuchsia, for the record.

Consensual Character Torture

So - I ran the game in September. It went... well. Mostly.

I've yet to learn how to design my own stuff to actually be as awesome as it is in my head, so there were a couple of extra encounters, but fun was had by all. My boyo stabbed lots of things, my players got drunk and their characters set everything on fire, there was intrigue, doom, destruction, terror, and fun was had by all.The session went a couple hours too long, but it was highly entertaining.

Nothing really of note, except that I do GM another game during the week and have been getting increasingly more sadistic with them. I've started actively trying to kill them, which is quite delightful. I was trying to describe to a friend how much FUN it is to send my poor players into despair that their characters will never get out of the terrible situation they've found themselves in and he was a little bit, "o_O" about it. He rephrased everything I'd been telling him about the game as, "So you like to torture them? Do they hate it?"

And I simply said, "Of course not! It's no fun unless they're on board with it. After all, they get epic triumphs after the despair. And levels. Never underestimate the soothing power of leveling up."

Another friend, on a similar topic, said, "So it's consensual character torture." Of course, I hadn't thought of it like that prior to her comment, but yes. Yes it is.

The story's no fun unless they have to work for it and I get to come up with all the most fun traps, situations, monsters, and mindfucks to make sure they don't get everything for free. As I improve as a GM, too, everything gets that much better.

So, there you have it: for a mild sadistic thrill combined with the joy of storytelling, learn how to run tabletop games.

One Tabletopping Domme, Coming Right Up!

This is a musing/amusing post for my own enjoyment, talking about the game I'm about to run for a few friends this weekend. If you want to stretch and say that being a dominant in a BDSM sense is like running a tabletop game, knock yourself out, but it's true that there is a delightful sense of control in being a storyteller and having to wrangle a handful of strong personalities to cleave to a coherent plot.

I'm not entirely sure how well this game with go on the weekend because my boyo is playing under duress (He had a GM that absolutely ruined him and I am very bitter about it. *grins*) and one of the other players is a hack-n-slasher who always seems extremely grumpy. The other two are super-excited, however, and have been asking me gaming questions non-stop this week.

Ah well. It'll work out. 

Probably. 

The world is a Lovecraftian D&D 3.5 homebrew setting, based a little bit on Hollowfaust with a decidedly dark horror theme. One of my players has a whole rack full of tabletop gaming books that I do not believe he has ever used, so I was browsing through them and some are really really neat settings that I liberally lifted elements from to flesh out my world. I have another setting that I play in all the time that I might drop this campaign into at a later date, but since it's currently a one-shot I've had to do some worldbuilding.

I'll come back later and post the campaign notes and monster builds for posterity, but for the moment I've just the setting and the hook. 

**

Generations ago, the city was a god.

Azo, the Mad God, roamed creation and left death, madness, and chaos in his wake. The world bred necromancers and the greatest magics used the ubiquitous death so readily available. The necromancers and their undead minions took advantage of the struggling civilizations that clung to the battered materiel plane and ruled by both fear and hope in turns. Heroes rose again as the Second-born, resurrected through the power of Azo or his sibling, Aket. The world burned and the Mad God laughed.

Seeing in his laughter the doom of the living, a necromantic sorcerer and his undead ranger companion sought and killed Azo, draining his body of its immortal essence and ensuring a prosperous era for those who had survived the Mad God's rampages. As the body rotted, helped along by the sorcerer's fel magics, enterprising individuals discovered that the decomposing corpse's stone and metal interior was a superior route through the mountain range where the god had fallen.

The obsidian bones were hollowed out, and Azo’s outflung limbs became the primary trade route between north and south. As the world rebuilt and fortunes grew, a city was founded within Azo’s arching ribs and sundered chest cavity. A palace was built within his skull, a caravanserai within his pelvis, and farms upon his scapula. The city developed into a vast, sprawling maze of streets and buildings, a shining stone and metal metropolis.

At the base of the chest, beneath the cracked and half-fallen breastbone, laid the gently pulsing obsidian heart of Azo, fallen when the attenuated ligaments that held it suspended finally snapped. It was this immortal heartbeat the the city rulers tapped for power. The city grew great. As long as the rulers could siphon away enough power to keep the pulse faint, the world would thrive.

Centuries passed. The city of Azo began to show influence of the Mad God starting in the second century as the council of rulers grew weak through assassination and intrigue. All who passed through the city streets and caught a glimpse of strange stars between the cracked ribs above heard whispers. The voices, unidentifiable and at the edge of hearing, murmured mindless nonsense and were, at times, prophetic.

The city fell into decline. Pockets of altered time and space crept in and took up residence in abandoned homes. Creatures of madness became bolder and more aggressive. Azo's followers grew in number. The original sorcerer's method and skill that had first killed Azo was lost and the rulers could no longer use enough of the Mad God's power.

The bones began to stir.

Calling soldiers of fortune and heroes of the living age, the rulers of the city sought to keep Azo dead, fearing what would happen if the Mad God awoke. At first the calls were infrequent and the city remained populous. Trade continued. Of late, however, each resurgence of Azo’s power grows more and more potent, leaving the single remaining ruler grasping for miracles and attempting to stave off a seemingly inevitable Age of the Dead.

It is Lord Narvol, last remaining Lord of Azo, who has put out a final, desperate call for heroes.

Damn Vocabulary.

There are times when I wish English was a more precise language. Vanilla and Femdom don't really fit quite right, but there's really nothing else for me but to use them to modify each other. Part of why they don't quite fit is that I'm trying to modify and tinker with the vocabulary to to make it fit me.

I hadn't discovered labcoatlingerie before, but I'm glad I ran across it. Most especially because of this post: One of the Nineteen. Did you read it? Awesome.

All I have to say is: Yup. Agreed.

So, this concept of being one of 19 'hidden' dominant women - in parity with the many submissive men out there - was what I was referring to in my previous post when I spoke about how I'm not any different than I was before. I've read the idea that dommes are hiding because they just don't know that there's a place to express their dominance in so many permutations that I'd lost track of where I'd first read of it.

The only thing I've done differently in the last handful of years is to 'discover' BDSM. I'm still the same-old-me I always was in the same-old-relationship (now stretching past 10 years) with my same-old-expressions-of-dominance in all spheres. I didn't suddenly get more 'domme-esque', I merely discovered that other people had a name for what I do and what I like.

In that discovery there was some rabbit-hole investigating where I found other things I like, but I didn't suddenly try and shove myself into a domme-shaped box. I hate boxes, I hate restrictive identities, and I hate defining labels. Even saying that makes me feel like Francis from Left 4 Dead who hates everything (except for vests), but seriously people - just because you discover a vocabulary does NOT mean that you suddenly have to change your entire identity makeup to accommodate that vocabulary.

Perhaps I am lucky in that I have a 'fuck you' attitude towards basically everyone with Opinions about my identity, but that doesn't mean I don't want a vocabulary I can use to describe myself. I'm content with fishing around and cobbling it together, but I think it says something big that I'm prefer to keep to the edge of femdom and at the edges of the vocabulary. It says something that I'm still looking.

I didn't find a 'home'. I may be one of the 95% of women who came to realize just what my dominance means in relationships, but I haven't found a place to rest yet with respect to how I describe myself. I'm not going to change, goodness knows I haven't yet, and while my understanding of my identity is in constant flux my identity hasn't budged since forever. Still, in flirting with femdom, I don't actually want to be part of the 'scene' at this moment in time. I do, however, want to represent myself here on the internet, just in case there's someone else like me out there. Others who are dominant, kinky in a vanilla sort of way, and with an absolute love for geekery.

'Fake' Vanilla Dommes?

I can't for the life of me find the original citation of this particular quote and that distresses me deeply, especially because I have taken the somewhat confused appellation 'Vanilla Domme'. Of course, in doing research, I found more absences than presences. 

The post 'Fake Vanilla Dommes' on femdomblog is simply a quote with a a broken link for attribution and no commentary whatsoever. I've reproduced it here, in full, because it's not all that long.

[Mistress Marlene’s] pet peeve about what she calls the ‘Instant Domme Syndrome’ that, according to her, she has been watching develop all over the world and in essence is the downfall of Femdomhood. According to Mistress Marlene, this Vanilla Domme beliefs that too much book learning and fantasy and not enough hands on reality before claiming a title that should be bestowed by one’s peers has largely contribute to this phenomena.
Mistress Marlene claims the the Vanilla Domme is bored one day and decides to recreate herself into one of the most powerful personas on earth. This vanilla imposter adds the title of Mistress in front of her name and begins the lie. This vanilla popsicle’s ego fools her into believing in herself and the vanilla Domme jumps into displaying what she thinks a Domme is. In her quest for importance she does not even recognize the difference between dominating and domineering. Of course, neither does the submissive until his heart and soul are caught in her web of deception.
According to Mistress Marlene, using a title is misrepresenting domination via title and content and is not a wise entrance into a new dream."

 Well, shit. Obviously I would like NOT to embody that this sort of playacting suggested by the term 'Vanilla Domme' used in such a derogatory fashion. I would like to pick apart this sentiment, though, and muse a bit on the assumptions behind the rejection of this sort of domineering behavior and why 'vanilla' is tacked onto the term.

The first assumption that I can see is that Domme and Vanilla are expected to be mutually exclusive. Their deliberate juxtaposition is meant to illuminate that the Domme isn't really a Domme, but is only pretending to be. The author (Mistress A, I believe.) uses vanilla as a negative modifier, reinforcing the lines between kinky and not-kinky with vanilla being the only thing that separates the term from a proper, responsible Domme and an irresponsible, naive, Domme putting on airs her peers do not believe she deserves.

The second assumption I can see is that a Vanilla Domme will never be a domme, ever. This works off of the underlying assumption that all those who attempt to conform to a stereotype are poseurs without a sincere bone in their body (thus ignoring the observable phenomena of 'extreme behavior' following discovery of a suitable new identity.) and are irredeemable, that their presence is a constant taint upon Femdomhood (entertaining term, imho) and will remain so as long as they cleave to the images without doing any of the research. There is a hint of an old-guard bias with an attitude toward 'fluffy bunny' insincerity (to borrow a term from the pagan community) and what appears to be a desire to distance herself from these obnoxious newcomers.

Interesting.

The second assumption is most easily tackled, in my opinion. I've seen this sort of, well, lament over the lack of gatekeepers in other communities. When anyone can join, there is no way to 'keep out' the fluff and nonsense at the very bottom level and there will be a lot of materiel generated to keep people at the fluff and nonsense level. The pagan community (in all its decentralized glory) has this issue with people who don't take the religions of practitioners seriously and are only at the edges for what paganism can provide them. They play up the rituals, sex, and magic and don't engage with the community on what is considered the proper level. They take up space and give pagans a bad name.

This sounds like almost exactly the same thing. A newly self-christened domme waltzes on the scene and, using only what images were available to her prior to her entrance, proceeds to ignore what the community considers the proper level of engagement, plays up the rituals, sex, and magic, and does damage to the image of the more responsible and reasonable dommes. They take up space and more long-standing dommes have to actively fight the nonsense these others portray. Maybe it's not a direct parallel, but it fits in a lot of ways.

There are two things to draw from this parallel, however. First is that as the greater-world, mainstream imagery changes, the femdom PR so to speak, so do the portrayals of the so-named Vanilla Dommes. Second is that some individuals need to fit themselves into an identity before they can wiggle around and learn something, so that some of these Vanilla Dommes are not irredeemable. These two ideas tie in to the concept that when an individual discovers a new identity that fits, they often seize upon it, do all the preliminary research they possible can, and then... try it on. Like a shoe. Or a hat. If all of the imagery points to a domineering PVC clad female, then obviously newcomers with enthusiasm are going to claim that and try it on. Not everyone is capable of picking and choosing identity as sticker-descriptors prefer to claim identities as whole constructs, at least to start with. It may be a seriously ugly hat until they realize that, damn, I am wearing the ugliest hat and I should upgrade to a much nicer hat. It is, at that point, still a hat and can be counted among hats, but it's a tailored hat instead.

Anecdotally, I've been around several individuals and have observed their behavior both when they encounter BDSM or LGBT and when they figured out that they were wearing a damn ugly hat. They leap in, feet first, and are all SORTS of stereotypically ridiculous. It's simply awful. The worst was one of my slightly-effeminate guy friends. He discovered being Gay(tm) and, goodness gracious great balls of fire, was he a fairy for a couple of years. Not natural fairy, oh no, but a completely over-the-top-do-you-want-some-glitter-in-your-latte-I-love-heart-heart-pink sort of fairy.

I'm pretty sure his favorite color is green or something far less stereotypical. We - as his supportive friends - mostly just winced and took it in stride, but I vividly remember his comments to the effect of, once the glamor of his ugly hat wore off, "I don't want to be the pretty-pretty-princess gay man anymore. Isn't there an identity that suits me better?"

That's just how some people are with respect to identity. All in. They want to embody the stereotype they connect with without having any of the foundation or fundamentals in place. Without any sort of gatekeeping education and with ONLY ridiculous imagery and stereotypes out there for newcomers to base their ugly hats on, it is zero-percent surprising to me that Instant Domme Syndrome and Vanilla Dommes would be an issue.

Solution: Change imagery that newcomers have available to express and reflect the actual members of the community. (Easier said than done, eh?) That should cut down on the number of Instant/Vanilla Dommes invading domly spaces.

The first assumption made by this snippet, however, is something that I have a little bit more trouble with, especially since I have claimed the title Vanilla Domme all by myself. Does being more toward the vanilla end of things in my kinks really negate my dominance? That was rhetorical, actually, the answer is no. More on that in a bit.

As for vanilla being negative: I do understand that using the term vanilla is, in some respects, very accurate. Vanilla sex and sexuality is based around - as far as I can tell - non-communicative sexual expression. Sarcasm. What is there to talk about, after all? Tab-a, slot-b, turn the boobs a quarter turn counterclockwise, don't forget a condom, bam! Done. End Sarcasm. As if that was all it ever was. Heh. Vanilla sex, in all its complexities, is assumed to be so simple that it doesn't need communication. Just terrible. So using vanilla in the context of this description of a vanilla domme to mean irresponsible and non-communicative is unfortunately appropriate.

Okay, then, so the term is accurate, but I don't like that it implies that I must be kinky to be a domme. I am made up of both vanilla and kinky elements, but I don't closely tie either with being dominant. It just is. So when I say I'm a vanilla domme, what I mean is that I'm pretty mainstream in my kinks. I like the whole corset thing, and shoving men in dresses, etc, but I don't identify strongly enough with kink beyond the general to really consider myself all that kinky. I often feel that if I were more extreme in my likes that I would feel better using the label, but if all I have is 'dominant'? That's barely a kink at all unless you consider me deviant for simply not being submissive.

I don't want to say that the whole thing doesn't apply to me, but I guess that the snippet is mostly referring to Dommes as the women who participate in situations where they would be called Mistress by strangers, where clueless newbies could do some damage by being domineering. I'm not exactly a clueless newbie, for all that I'm a vanilla domme. I simply know what I like and am trying to hack and slash my way to vocabulary that describes it.

Reclaiming Power by throwing Dommes under the Bus

Please go read the article 'Kinky Sex for Social Justice' on the older wordpress blog Female Arrogance.

The article above is from a blog that was published in 2009, the post itself was written and first published in 2007. It's been a long time (in internet time units) since this hit the interwebs, but it is as applicable today as it was then. When the rants of the blogosphere haven't changed in several years, you  know we're getting nowhere. This article was linked by maymay in the comments for Doms Don't Cry on labcoatlingerie.

Regardless, I am torn between being intensely offended by this post by Helena von Salome and agreeing with a good swath of it. I agree that submissive women need to embrace their submission, accept it as their position of power (no pun intended) and then run with it. You like what you like, lady, and that gives you a platform and strength to say 'bug off' to everyone who wants to demean you.

I don't even know if this is a thing anymore or if it's starting to graduate to a straw-man-stereotype from a billion years ago, but here are the bits that ruffle my feathers:

"The dominatrix appears to turn this roleplay on its head, but in fact does no such thing.  She merely permanently stalls the process at the second-to-last step, still in the wanting but never the having, so that the man never loses interest.  Even the sex act, in the most extreme male-submissive fantasies, lacks climax or satisfaction.  In this way the dominatrix is exactly the same as the girl who keeps waiting one more date to actually fuck whoever she’s dating, in the certainty that she can only keep his interest as long as she keeps him frustrated.  One of these women would be called “tease” in a worshipful tone, and the other in a derogatory tone, but the meanings are effectively synonymous."

I know that the femalearrogance author, von Salome, is speaking in broad, stereotypical generalities (as is necessary in a post about broad cultural stereotypes), but I would like to think that I can STILL do my part in furthering the cause of social justice by being a powerful woman. Not a woman who is powerful because she is adopting masculine traits or because she is playing into the insidious 'untouchable' trope, but a woman who is powerful because she works from the strengths of her desire and convictions. I want to change preconceptions based on the fundamental truth that it's not a bad thing for me or any woman to enjoy sex, to talk about it, and to explore it. This works on all sides of whatever domme/sub fence you care to erect.

Also, I'm a terrible tease in all the best ways. What I want out of the whole teasing thing is desire that will be consummated when I want it to be consummated. It is a structure of delaying pleasure and, subsequently, fulfilling that pleasure on a timetable set by the dominant partner. I take umbrage that the stereotype is Ice Queen - and that all actions attributed to it are heinous - because of the insinuation (or blatant implication) that the teasing model doesn't get me just as hot as it would my boyo. As if I'm an automaton that wouldn't enjoy a man's tormented arousal until such time as I took advantage of it. Disagree and disapprove.

I am also angry as hell at femalearrogance's assertion that:

"Sex-positive feminism attempts to counter or disprove that assertion, but I’m not going to do that, because that’s silly.  Of course, if you see every man as metonymic for the patriarchy, a blowjob is a woman surrendering to the patriarchy.  It’s a blowjob!  She’s getting on her goddamn knees and sucking cock!  Don’t try to tell me there’s not an inherent, violent power dynamic there. Come on."

If von Salome thinks it's silly, I think they're full of shit. I read the rest of the article for some indication that this was said in jest or in satire, but unless I missed something I can only conclude that this was said perfectly seriously. What a load of horse pucky.

The article goes about 'the inherent violence of sex' and the 'inherent power dynamic of sucking cock', and I'm angry at von Salome because it casts MY dominance as submission whenever I go down on a guy because I enjoy it (the feel and the pulse and the little noises he makes when I get him to abandon himself). Re-framing my experiences to fit some 'universal always'? That doesn't fly. Saying that sucking cock is a submissive act for every human being going down on someone else is not a 'natural' power dynamic, it's a 'status quo' power dynamic that simply does not apply to me.

The very idea that I would be perforce submissive upon sucking cock puts me on the defensive, as is evinced by the previous paragraph, and it places me in the uncomfortable mental position where I feel like I have to prove my dominance (however that would work) or distance myself from the idea. The whole thing is nonsense, buys into some sort of poles-are-essentially-dominant holes-are-essentially-submissive claptrap. The etymology of 'fuck' - described somewhat in von Salome's post - merely tells where the ideas first developed along with language and just because these ideas have 'always' been around doesn't meant they're correct. A good portion of her post rails at academics for how they blame culture for stuff they're unwilling to own and - at the same time - she uses culture as justification for what is ultimately a type of essentialism that I simply cannot agree with.

I refuse to consider myself anything but normal, because considering myself abnormal allows me to be shuffled off to the side and ignored as an outlier.

Similarly, I want to distance myself from the idea that all sex requires violence or that sex IS violence in and of itself. I find that a damaging attitude to take. The joy and pleasure I take away from sex is not the same joy and pleasure as I take away from violence. Yes they can mingle and it can be hot when they do mingle, but they're not the same emotion. Violence can LEAD to sex - I am always ridiculously horny after action movies - but not because they're inextricably entwined. A 'but biologically, all humans are wired for violence' is not a good enough argument for me to agree that every penis-in-vagina is violent or even submissive. Those noises I'm making can be mistaken for pain, but I can assure you they're not, in fact, pain.

Mocking the idea that sex is NOT violence ignores the negative connotations of violence-as-bad. Now, I realize that - as Hamlet suggests - "[..]there is nothing either good or bad, but thinking makes it so." Sure, but violence indicates an intent to harm as part of the very basic definition. My bedpartner would certainly like to avoid harming me with his oh-so-manly appendage. Biting is another story, something that I enjoy and is quite certainly violence and I quite positively correlate with sexual arousal, but just because it goes together like peanut butter and jelly doesn't mean they need always be paired. Jelly and, say, butter is also acceptable. As is jelly and scones with tea. And jelly all over your partner...

But I digress. Lastly:

"Real deviance, however, has deeper roots.  Real deviance is understanding that all sex is inherently dangerous, and inherently liberating, and that that liberation, that revolutionary potential, can be accessed if you approach any kind of sex as deviant"

This only works if danger is positive.  Live dangerously, with great risk and great reward, and an understanding that all worthwhile things involve a certain amount of venturing outside of your comfort zone. An REM song much on my mind that kind of hints at this is 'Walk Unafraid' with its sentiments of wanting to shucking of fear and worry to be able to walk, stumbling, courageous, clumsy, and unafraid.

I realize this is a response to an old old post, but I don't care. I'm struggling with hammering out a space for myself within feminism, BDSM,  kink-in-general, and the blogpost sparked a lot of anger that I needed to sort through.

Dominance: Orientation or Personality Trait?

One of the things I've been mulling over for a year or so now is the idea that kink is orientational, by which I mean that What It Is We Do is somehow hardwired into a person and that their fetishes, kinks, and BDSM desires (or lack thereof) fall under the broad umbrella of 'born that way'. I use WIIWD in the broadest sense possible, because it kind of does include everyone who ever wants to have sex (or not) under its vast umbrella.

In a lot of respects, I agree with the orientational view of sexuality in both 'who you're attracted to' sense (along with the ten billion ways of describing fluid sexuality or ones that cleave to a more binary definition) as well as the 'what you do when you play with them' sense. There are times when I just crave what I crave and no amount of introspection or armchair psychology can pry loose any reason other than, "I just do."

Still (and you knew there was a but coming, didn't you?), the concept of having a Dominant and Submissive orientation present to me somewhat of a problem.

Right now, D/s is associated with the kink sphere ( it's right there in the BDSM term!), so that is ostensibly where Dominant and Submissive individuals belong. This leads, as far as I can tell, to the conflation of power exchange with sexual requirements (orgasm denial, cock-and-ball torture, etc) and S&M requirements (I need a whip, for sure, and he must be able to take the pain I love dishing out). For power exchange to be recognized as such, there is this stereotype that it needs to be more than a relationship, that it needs little added twiddly bits that launch it from the mundane into the realm of the kinky.

This is why I hate labels. Labels make me feel trapped and angry.

So, if I self-identify as a domme - and believe me, darling, I rather love the term - I subsequently belong to that illustrious and perverted (in a good way) subculture that declares itself the BDSM community. Then, too, the kink community (as if it was some sort of great unified beast and not a sprawling conglomeration of conflicting concepts) is also a refuge for the huge swath of people who do not feel entirely safe (or whole, or accepted) within approved-of society.

But, while I like the little bits of 'extra' that the BDSM community assumes comes with D/s, I feel intensely uncomfortable even among my supposed people. "What have you done?" I am asked curiously, as if I should need to establish my domme cred. Then to come the questions, "What have you tried? What are you interested in trying?" to see if my modest and unassuming kinks align with my questioners'.

My answer is usually a shy stutter and I rail at myself afterward for not responding with more aplomb. L'esprit d'escalier, indeed. If I were to be honest, then I should say, "Well, shit. I have no idea. Most of what I do I never considered kinky." I'm *still* discovering that little episodes in my past that were perfectly normal for me, the kinky sphere lays claim on.

• Normal: Being nicknamed Mistress by my HS best friend through his own volition.
• Normal: Convincing boys (and now men) to wear dresses on a regular basis and using every excuse to do so.
• Normal: Adopting men to be my pets so I can mentor and cultivate them.
• Normal: Demanding that my feral side be acknowledged and bringing it to bed with me.

All fundamentally normal. For me. Couched in BDSM terms, I have been an acknowledged domme since HS, have a fetish for forced feminization and cross-dressing, I instinctively seek out submissive men, and I am a sexual dominant. Even with this, I would never have dreamed of calling any of my actions kinky. I am annoyed that BDSM wants them as if they should be quietly locked away from the rest of my life. The sharp, self-protective delineations of the BDSM community bother me because I was never subjected to them before, and it is as if now that my kinks are deigned 'kinky enough' to join the club, that I can no longer pretend to be one of the Vanilla People.

Nothing I did changed. I'm privileged. I was able to express my so-called fetishes through 'normal' channels and if I was considered weird by most, I was still considered awesome by the people who mattered. I knew that being called Mistress wasn't mainstream after I mentioned it to a couple of girls in my cabin at Bible camp and they appeared baffled. I remember feeling surprised that they couldn't relate and then faintly smug that I was different in a way I vastly preferred.

So I resent being encouraged to 'hide' this aspect of my personality. I'm so bog-boring normal that if I qualify for the super special secret BDSM club, then the whole entire world is kinky and they should just get the hell over themselves and dispense with this stupid dichotomy.

Then I think, "Well, what if Dominant and Submissive are not only orientations, but also basic personality traits?" I cannot deny the empirical evidence of men who crave an intimate touch on the vulnerable parts of their psyche and that it's an intensely emotional and sexual thing. I also cannot deny that some men and women are simply filled with more presence than others, more charisma and that indefinable 'something' that makes people follow their lead.

I feel kind of stupid for postulating something that is probably really obvious to everyone else, that dominance is an orientation *and* trait, and they don't necessarily have to overlap.

But if dominance can be both... can someone be a sexual dominant and have a submissive personality? Does this decoupling even work in real life? Or is it a spectrum? Is assuming the title Dominant at one end of the spectrum and simply having a dominant personality at the other? Is submissive even on the same spectrum or is it part of a complimentary one in 15 dimensions?  Is a Dominant more dominant than someone who just has a dominant personality?

I personally think that I, who am pretty much a vanilla as it comes with respect to the bedroom, can absolutely be a domme, because I don't think it depends on trappings and I absolutely do not think I should be relegated to So Utterly Alien I Must Be Stared At. I feel whiny when I say it, but if a guy is dominant and it's not a kink, then when I'm dominant it's ALSO not a kink. It just IS and it's perfectly normal. (Maybe if I keep saying it, someone will believe me.)  I like what I like and I resent the BDSM community for claiming my dominance as one of their kinks and I resent Vanilla society for disbelieving my existence and shoving me away.

I am hesitant to take up the role of Dominant in the kink sphere because I would be challenging expectations every step of the way and I already do that simply by living out loud in my normal life. It just seems so utterly exhausting to have to fight every battle twice.