I was raised in a conservative, religious environment. Conversations about things like sex didn’t happen, but that was okay because as a voracious reader, I discovered early on that a lot of books for grown ups had scenes in them that made me feel all sorts of tingly.
Still, even into my late teens, I remained relatively naive about anything more than basic, vanilla sex. And then, right about the time I hit my twenties, I saw a movie called Exit to Eden. I’m pretty sure it was supposed to be a comedy, because Rosie O’Donnell and Dan Aykroyd headlined it. But they weren’t the main characters. Not the way I remember it.
I remember a movie about a woman dressed in skimpy leather, tying a man to a four-poster bed, and subjecting him to all sorts of delicious torture meant to titillate and excite. Spanking, flogging… Whatever she demanded, he submitted to. Up to that point in my life, I’d never seen anything so open, sex-positive, and deliciously tempting.
And the guy I was with at the time made fun of me to no end for it. Spoiler alert: we didn’t last long as a couple.
Since then, fortunately, stories like that have become more mainstream instead of mostly fodder for comedians whose careers are dying. Authors like Tiffany Reisz have brought amazing, sexy BDSM into the spotlight, and built it up with amazing plots and characters.
Below is an (unedited) excerpt from my current WIP (Securing Her Surrender), where my heroine, Vivian, is struggling with the fact that she loves the power and success of her executive position, but still enjoys surrendering control in the bedroom.
Damon fitted something over Vivian’s eyes, blocking the world off from view. From the width, and the way it tightened around her head, she assumed it was his necktie. Her heart hammered at the loss of one sense, and the rest of her kicked into high alert on instinct. She couldn’t hear anything but her own breathing, the blood rushing in her ears, and the city outside.
She could smell him, though. The faint aftershave. The same scent he still wore, all these years later, that promised more.
“Top floor condo.” His voice was close, but she still couldn’t feel him. “Living up above most of the other buildings in the city, with a gorgeous view through that picture window. The one with the blinds open. I’m curious, what you do out on that balcony.”
A lot of things.
He spanked her again, the loud slap echoing through the room. The sting lingered longer on her skin this time. “I’m not asking me. I’m asking you. What do you do out there?”
“Watch the city. Get some sun. Enjoy being removed from all the insanity even though I’m right in the middle of it.”
She thought about holding back the answer, but telling him about it was as enticing as being spanked. “Sometimes, I’ll go out there to sunbathe in a two-piece. I’ll strip my top off, to avoid tan lines, of course.”
“Of course.” He didn’t sound like he believed her for a second.
She didn’t know what made her wetter, remembering the moment, or telling him aloud. “I’ll rub the lotion over my breasts, spending far longer than I need to, then slide my fingers between my legs. Stroke myself, wondering if anyone can see me, if anyone is watching, until I come.”
He glided his palm over her butt, barely making contact with the still tender skin, and slipped a finger between her legs. “So you’re turned on by the idea that someone might look over here and see you naked, blindfolded, and helpless.”
He slapped her again, the other cheek this time. “Yes or no?”
He pressed his chest to her back again, and kissed along her shoulder. “I feel your heart pounding. Slamming inside you like a jackhammer. Did you miss this?”