By
Vonna Harper (Guest Blogger)
The
next thing Lacey knew, the man was helping her out of the car. Her
knees started to buckle, prompting her to grip his arm. “Where are
we?” she asked.
“It
doesn’t matter. Look around. What do you see?”
It
was daylight. She didn’t
recognize their surroundings
but with him so
close, she dismissed the
question of where he’d
taken her. She was
fully awake—and wearing
sandals she’d never
seen.
“I
have on shoes.” Was that what he’d wanted her to say?
“Yes,
you do because you’re going to be walking. Now, before we get
going, I want you to tell me about your latest dream or fantasy or
whatever you’re inclined to call it. Were you restrained?”
Even
with her nightshirt on, she felt more vulnerable than she ever had.
“What does that—”
“You
were. That’s why you’re having trouble answering me.” He’d
backed away after her legs were under her but now stepped close. He
indicated the car’s open trunk. “What I need to get things
started is in there, but I have to know whether I’ll be using rope
or cuffs.”
Rope
or cuffs? She opened her mouth but couldn’t think of anything to
say. Darn it, Fantasies Unlimited should have given her an
instruction manual or something, at least a general outline of what
to expect. She was a cautious woman—all except for her imagination.
“Rope
or cuffs?” he repeated.
His
sharp tone alarmed her so much she started to slide back. Shaking his
head, he grabbed her shoulders and forced her up against his superior
strength. “I prefer rope but what gets you off?”
He
wanted and deserved an answer. After all, she’d set this—this
crazy nonsense in motion. Why couldn’t she speak?
“I’m
not a patient man.”
With that, he spun
her away from him,
clamped a hand over
the back of her
neck, and forced her
to lean over so
far she had to
widen her stance to
keep from falling. Instead
of trying to resist,
she stared at the
space between her new
sandals. “Let’s see
if this loosens your
tongue.” He flipped up
her nightshirt’s hem,
exposing her buttocks, and
planted a sharp blow
on her ass. She
stumbled forward a little
and tried to straighten.
The pressure on her
neck continued.
“Hey!
What are you—”
“Getting
a response from you and leaving you with no doubt that we aren’t
playing games.” He swatted her a second time. “You want to
explore what it means to be a submissive. The sooner we get to it the
better. Now—” The third blow might have knocked her to her knees
if he hadn’t switched his hold from the back of her neck to around
her waist. “I asked you a question. What’s your preference?”
To
not be spanked. However, despite her silent protest, there was
something erotic about being manhandled. Not testing his willingness
to let her straighten, which he might not, she let his arm support
her. Not thinking about her exposed buttocks was impossible. Any
second now he might discipline her some more. He was probably looking
at her ass, maybe admiring the red marks he was responsible for.
“Ropes,”
she admitted and spilled what she remembered of her last fantasy.
I
wrote
that.
The
scene
appears
in
my
erotic
romance
Taken
And
Trained
which
is
currently
on
sale
for
only 99 cents! Just go here:
Although it’s far
from my first story dealing with bondage, I'm still amazed by the
direction my writing has taken.
Back when I was
writing conventional romance, it would have never occurred to me
there might be a market for the kinkier aspects of sex, let alone
that readers would be hungry for fantasies I'd kept to myself.
Just goes to show
how little I knew.
Why was I so naïve?
So repressed?
A lot of finger
pointing can be aimed at none other than Sigmund Freud who in 1908
maintained, "A happy person never fantasizes, only a
dissatisfied one." (Say what?) The man studied S & M for
over twenty years, maintaining that the practice was pathological and
tied into unresolved issues of dominance and subservience traceable
back to childhood. Therapists who worshiped at Freud's feet
incorporated his conclusions into their practices.
Fortunately
the tide has changed. Erotica and erotic romance books have become
extremely popular. I don’t have an exact count, but I’m sure I’ve
written more than forty such stories.
Back to the
question of why BDSM and bondage stories have become so lucrative,
for the answers, I turned to those diggers into the human psychic,
psychologists.
Roy F. Baumeister
pointed out that today's culture places more demands on people than
any time in history. "That stress makes forgetting who you are
an appealing escape." Fantasy sex slaves want to imagine
shedding their own identity with its autonomy and responsibility and
submit to the will of another.”
According to Ethel
Person, author of By Force of
Fantasy, 44 percent of men imagine dominating a partner.
Other studies concluded that 51 percent of women mentally placed
themselves on the receiving end of forced sex. Leitenberg and
Henning concur, adding that, "Women who find submission
fantasies sexually arousing are very clear that they have no wish to
be raped in reality," Women zero in on "the personal or
emotional characteristics of the partner," even if the sex
partner is a mysterious stranger, abductor, or dominatrix.
Strassberg and
Lockerd reported that women who fantasize about being submissive have
more positive attitudes about sex. Pelletier and Herold agreed,
adding that such women feel less sexually guilty and more open to a
variety of sexual experiences.
That, in part, is
what makes BDSM, S&M, and spanking stories so popular—readers
can safely read about living on the wild side.
“Not quite
what you had in mind? Too bad.” He didn’t sound at all sorry or
sympathetic, just making a comment. “In case you’ve missed the
obvious, I’m now directing everything. And you, you’re going to
do what I want.”
“No!” Where
had that come from?
A sharp slap to
her buttocks made her gasp. When she tried to aim a sideways kick at
him, he slapped her again, harder this time. She couldn’t
understand why she was testing him. Did she think she could peel off
his layers this way?
“Yes, damn it!
I don’t have to but I’m going to spell things out. You’ve been
having a hell of a lot of fun mentally exploring this capture and
bondage thing, the dom/sub exchange, endlessly debating whether it’s
something you’d like to get into. Because you’re who you are,
you’ve been trying to figure out how to safely and financially
explore the possibilities without taking that final leap. I’d say I
appreciate that it worked out so that I’m part of your exploration,
but there isn’t much I’m appreciative of beyond being alive.”
He briefly fell silent. “I’m here. That’s the only thing you
need to concern yourself with for the foreseeable future.” He made
his point by repeatedly striking her ass.
“You—ow—ow!”
She didn’t have to see her buttocks to know they carried his palm
print.
“More spelling
out. You’re done ordering men, either real or imagined, around. The
prosecutor the world believes you are no longer exists. To state the
obvious, the shoe’s now on the other foot.”
“I don’t
understand,” she said, trying to grasp everything he was telling
her. She prided herself on being a quick learner and being a decent
judge of people, but what could she do with his admission that he
didn’t care about much except being alive? She wasn’t going to
antagonize him, at least not deliberately. Damn, but he could
seriously spank and why was her pussy becoming wet?
“Exactly.”
Pulling her to a halt via his hold on her hair, he began massaging
the sensitive flesh he’d just punished. Her heart continued to race
from a combination of excitement, anticipation, and apprehension, but
there was no denying that his manipulation of her ass felt good.
“Exactly
what?” she finally managed to ask when she was capable of thinking
again.
Hmm, his hands
felt so good….
“That you
don’t fully understand what’s taken place. I could give you a
long and boring explanation of exactly how Fantasies Unlimited
operates, but for the present, it pleases me to keep you somewhat in
the dark. That way, I’ll always be at least one step ahead of you.”
After giving her ass a light pat, he ran the side of his hand along
the furrow between her bottom cheeks. Gasping, she stood on her toes.
“A few pointers. I’m a bastard. I take pride in wearing the
label. Also, there’s nothing make-believe or watered down about the
education you’re about to receive.” Leaning close, he glided a
nail over her labia. “Playacting bores the shit out of me.”
Oh, lord,
what an unnerving
sensation! No matter how
much she fought to
ignore what he was
doing to her, she
leaned forward a little
and widened her stance,
increasing his access to
her private parts. A
bastard, was he? Bored
by playacting. She panted.
With just a few
touches he had her
hot and wet and
ready to fuck.
(Another
excerpt
from
Taken andTrained)
The above leads to
the question of how far erotica writers can push the boundaries. A
study conducted by Eileen Zurbriggen and reported on in Journal of
Sex Research (2004) indicates that as long as certain components
remain, the sky may be the limit. Women are more likely than men to
fantasize about submission and while men's fantasies focused on their
and their partners' desires and pleasure, women tended to focus on
their own. Such fantasies provide women with a safe place to let go.
In the secret places of our minds, everything becomes about us.
I don't really want
to be tied down, but I'm having a ball dreaming up scenarios and
putting the results on paper.
As Ph.D. Cheryl
Renaud said, "while bondage may be painful, thinking about it
never hurt anyone."
Leitenberg agrees.
"Sexual fantasy is a natural part of being human. It's
pleasurable. So why not fantasize?"
Why not indeed?
Meanwhile, if you leave a comment with your email, I will enter you into a drawing for a free copy of Her Red Corset!
Meanwhile, if you leave a comment with your email, I will enter you into a drawing for a free copy of Her Red Corset!
