In an effort to be as honest as possible, I admit I’ve long fantasized about becoming some hunk’s captive. The thought of ropes around my wrists turns me on. For years I thought maybe there was something wrong with me. Then I started reading erotica with BDSM elements as well as the edgier capture/bondage stuff. That's when I decided to learn all I could about the appeal.
Here’s what I’ve learned.
In purely psychological terms, Freud didn't know what he was talking about. In 1908, he declared that, ""a happy person never fantasizes, only a dissatisfied one.""
Fortunately, a great deal has changed since those uninformed days with such experts as psychologists Harold Leitenberg and Kris Henning doing extensive studies on peoples' sexual fantasies. Their conclusion: only about 5% of people don't dream up sexy romps. In fact, it's now considered pathological not to have such fantasies.
Erotica fiction banks on readers' need and desire for the aforementioned. But it isn't enough for an erotica writer like me to simply open the bedroom door wide. There has to be a plot to go with the sex. Many times I decorate the plot around bondage.
The late psychiatrist Ethel Person of Columbia University reported that 51 percent of women imagine being forced to have sex and another third get off on pretending to be a slave who must obey a man's every wish.
So why do scenes full of ropes and chains touch so many women's hot buttons? As Leitenberg and Henning said, ""Women who find submission fantasies sexually arousing are very clear that they have no wise to be raped in reality. In their fantasies, women control every aspect of what happens.""
According to the article, ""Power, Desire, and Pleasure in Sexual Fantasies"" by Eileen Zurbriggen in the Aug, 2004 Journal of Sex Research, women who fanaticize about submission have a more positive attitude about sex and are less sexually guilty and more open to a variety of sexual experiences. Female submissive fantasies may be one aspect of an open, positive, guilt-free sexuality. (That’s good to know)
As Leitenberg and Henning put it, ""Women tend to envision something being done to them and to concentrate more on their partner's interest in her."" So if, like me, you're intrigued by certain aspects of the sexual human being, I encourage you to write about it.
Since he plunged to his death only to be brought back to life in a new form by some power beyond his understanding, Slade has grown used to his wolf's body. When he sees the woman he loved, he finds himself again with the body of a man, but his primal lusts remain strong and he is driven to reclaim her as his mate.
Slade gives Aileen little time to ponder the situation. Instead he strips her, spanks her, and sets about teaching her to surrender to him, but can he stay in human form long enough to truly make her his?
EXCERPT
Disbelief clutched Aileen. The unexpected sexual energy had morphed into something she didn’t understand or want.
She was staring at a wolf, a creature that hadn’t been seen around here since man had hunted them into extinction in this area. Wolves had been reintroduced to the wild but none had yet migrated here. At least that’s what the experts declared.
To hell with what she as a forest ranger had bought into as gospel. She was face to face with a pure predator. Everything about the beast spoke of pride, courage, and determination—except for his eyes.
A second wave of disbelief slammed into her, briefly stilling her heart. As it started beating again, she forced herself to face a simple fact. Instead of a wolf’s yellow eyes, this creature’s were deep brown.
Even more incomprehensible, she’d seen and been turned on by those eyes, but not for a year. Not since Slade had drowned while she helplessly watched.
Oh, God, Slade! Please tell me you didn’t die after all.
The longer she stared at the creature, the less she saw of Slade. Other than those beautiful eyes, the wolf was what nature had designed it to be, a hunter and killer. Its muscles were finely honed, rangy and powerful. Most compelling were fangs meant for one thing, killing. Studying that perfect body filled her with equal parts of fear and admiration. She could barely think. Like most humans, she wore countless hats and shouldered countless roles, but a wolf had no such complexity. It hunted, ate, slept, fucked. Existed.
“Slade?” Despite swallowing repeatedly, she couldn’t utter another word.
The wolf returned her stare. Yes, the eyes were brown, rich and glistening. More to the point, they were pulling her deep into something incomprehensible. Inescapable.
Slade Nashel had been the sexiest man she’d ever met, although whether that was because his body was cleanly masculine or because his touch destroyed her she’d never known.
For too long after his death, she’d suspected she’d died along with him, but the passing minutes, hours, and then days and weeks had helped her heal so she once again believed she had a reason to go on living. Her tears had finally dried and she’d found things to laugh at. Sometimes she’d felt guilty for embracing what he’d been denied, but she couldn’t change reality. He was dead, she alive.
ABOUT Vonna Harper
Vonna Harper isn't sure how many erotic romance books, novellas, and short stories she's written since she's just along for the ride. Many have capture/bondage elements in part because studies show that a majority of women fantasize about giving up control, and Vonna wants to give them what they're looking for. Also, as a woman herself, she wants to write what fascinates her.
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