BDSM and power
A lot of BDSM stories revolve around power exchange – Dominant and submissive, Domme and submissive, Master and slave. I used to believe my Pierced Hearts series was not actually BDSM due to the capture fantasy/ dubious consent theme that runs through the books, but I’ve since had several kinksters, who have been in the lifestyle for years, point out that they are in fact BDSM.
RACK (risk aware consensual kink) is obviously consensual. As is PRICK, which I can never recall what the letters stand for. lol Though consensual is in there too.
Googled it! Personal Responsibility Informed Consensual Kink.
BDSM is a convenient way of referring to any sort of story where power exchange, bondage, and sadomasochism feature heavily even though there may not be consent.
Power exchange is where someone hands power over to someone else. The extent of that handover varies from relationship to relationship but with consensual kink, there will be an out. A safeword is the most recognized way out, but legally, there is no way, in our society, you can hand over yourself to someone else permanently. You’re a slave to Master XYZ? Sure you are. Until the day you decide to leave that relationship. Anyone who says otherwise is delusional.
The fun in writing my Pierced Hearts stories is in playing around with the idea of someone having that sort of power over you where there is no way out. Fantasies of these sorts are role played in BDSM scenes, all the way up to roleplaying rape. This is what’s often called consensual non-con. Rape fantasies are very common with women. Stress the fantasy there, of course. These are not desires for actual rape.
Capture fantasy stories are another way to role play sexual fantasies – hence the appeal of stories featuring women who are captured by the ‘hero.’ I’ve said it before – bodice rippers sold by the millions because many women desire male dominance in the bedroom, at the very least.
The power exchange that we speak of in BDSM is a deep thread that weaves through many human relationships. The gap in thinking, desires, and needs between kinksters into power exchange and the average man or woman is not that wide.
If you’re seeking your daily ‘hit’ of delicious capture fantasy and power exchange, my Pierced Hearts series is waiting for you. If you like bad boys and you love Doms, start reading because inside my latest book, Make me Yours Evermore, are some droolworthy Doms gone bad.
Excerpt - PGish
The water might be cold but she was warm against my skin. I couldn’t help admiring her curves as I smoothed away the grime of all that had happened to her over the last day. A few times she stirred and pushed at my hand but I persisted. Her skin was pale, accentuating the red of her bra and black of her panties – color coded scraps of cloth that screamed sexual territory. All the best bits were underneath those. Her lips were plump with the promise of kisses. Long legs, female contours…
At last the tape loosened and I gently pulled the bits away from each strand of her hair, revealing her face. What color were her eyes? I turned her face upward and stroked her cheek until she opened them.
Gray. A pretty and liquid light gray.
“Hi,” I said softly.
She only groaned quietly and blinked.
When she turned her cheek away and nestled back into me, curving her back and drawing up her legs so the water swirled, I had to clamp down on a surge of emotion. Her eyelids drifted down again. She clung to my leg with both arms – determined yet weak. Her hair swept in lazy arcs against the masculine heaviness of my thigh.
I ached somewhere deep inside. What did Chris want to do to her?
The draw to protect her was so strong. I didn’t care what she might or might not have done. So cute all snuggled around me. I’d never had a woman do this. Ever. Not in such a vulnerable way.
“Hey, baby girl.” I stroked her cheek again. “I’m going to get you out of this.”
She stirred but her eyes stayed shut. “Not a baby. Fugg off.”
I chuckled and smiled. “Not a hope.”
Daylight was fading by the time we had her out of the bath and dried off.
When Chris wrist and ankle cuffed her and collared her with black leather, I managed to stay quiet. When he attached a metal leash, I fought not to explode.
Maybe part of this was that I also found her disturbingly sexy all collared and leashed. That scared me.
Embarrassment had reached new depths. It was one thing standing in a room naked and getting whipped by a Dom you’d selected carefully and teed up your limits with. I had control over that. But this? Kneeling on the breakfast counter with my hands behind me and basically chained to the wall while wearing a wet, milk-soaked scrap of a dress?
I wanted to sink into the floor. Even more so since I knew having them do what they’d done – stared and treated me like a pet they had to feed, had turnedme on so much I was afraid to open my legs. I could feel how slippery I was down there.
When Andreas excused himself and wandered off down the hallway to the toilet I relaxed some. One gone. Maybe now, I’d get freed. I braced myself for the evil I had to do, begging from him… Then I raised my eyebrows, in a hopeful fashion, at Chris.
He deadpanned back at me.
Shit. Did I have to whine? I was not whining. But I wasn’t game to speak. Chris’s suggestion of a piñata and the crocs hearing my beating had been ominous.
The stool scraped on the floor as he stood.
I managed a forced smile when he came to the counter and hopped up on it, sitting next to me with his legs dangling over the edge.
“You were very, very good,” he drawled.
I blinked and tried to stamp down on my awareness of the difference between him, free, a dominant man and inches from me, and me tied up. It was electric. Chris was the epitome of alpha male. In the past, his pale blond man-god good looks had always steamed up my female sex goggles in milliseconds. I couldn’t help holding my breath and giving my lower lip a tug with my teeth. Pure body reaction, I reminded myself, I still hated him. I did, I did.
His slow perusal of my breasts and the trail of milk and cornflakes down my belly made me both melt into a sizzle of goo and want to snap out something like…like, I’m not your breakfast. Noo. God no. Need a spoon? Fuck no, not that either.
Surreptitiously, I twisted one wrist, praying it was loose.
He spotted that movement and his mouth curved. “It’s amusing, Kat. Watching you. Watching you and knowing I can touch you without you doing anything to stop me. Knowing you’re aroused too.”
“I’m not aroused,” I ground out through my teeth. “Andreas will be back soon!” My glare would hopefully turn him to ashes.
“You speak?” Gently he began to roll the dress up my thighs. I tensed and squeezed my thighs together. “Uh-uh. No hiding there. Open.”
I glared some more.
Chris moved in and nipped my nose. Shock hummed through me as his other hand wrapped around my breast, squeezing tight. Big hand, hard grip, small pains that did things to me. I squirmed on the spot.
I hated possession like this – the casual owning of a woman bothered me, especially if it was me. But with his hand on me there, and the wrist bondage, with my arms pulled back out of the way, I had nowhere to go. Fuck. Hate you Chris.
Yet what he did fed heat into my groin.
“Open your eyes, Kat.”
I snapped them open. Crap. I’d closed them without meaning to.
“I knew you were turned on because you've dripped on the counter.”
Mild panic to mortified in one second flat. Knowing he’d seen my moisture coming from me… I stared at him. Amusement, lust, and the satisfaction of a Dom who’s hit the humiliation and torture button flickered across his face.
His thumb swept over my breast teasing my nipple as he added in a matter of fact way, like it was a done deal. “I’m going to make you come now, Kat. If you don’t want Andreas to see, be good. If you’re bad, I can stretch this out forever.”
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