By Lisabet Sarai
I'm not afraid to admit it (at least not while I'm sheltered behind the mask of my pseudonym). I love BDSM stories. Give me a well-written, convincing tale that incorporates bondage, spanking, whips and clamps, blindfolds and tests of a sub's devotion, and I'm in a state of bliss.
Why do I find BDSM exciting, to read and to write? It is not, primarily, the taboo nature of the topic. It's not because I think that restraint or pain is pleasurable or sexy per se. And unlike some romance authors, I don't add bondage or discipline to my work just to "spice it up" with something naughty. Rather, I'm drawn to relationships involving dominance and submission because of the fundamental eroticism of surrender.
The essence of submission, for me, is offering one's whole self to the dominant. The sub relinquishes control to her master. She holds nothing back. She bares not only her body but her doubts, her fears, her secret fantasies. She lets down all her barriers, trusting her Dom to takes responsibility for her pleasure and safety.
Surrender is arousing because it creates a deep psychic and emotional connection between the Dom and the sub. The intimacy of a successful D/s encounter is almost overwhelming. The sub cannot hide behind a mask of propriety. The Dom knows what she wants, however extreme or forbidden. He may understand her better than she understands herself. The sub no longer needs to struggle with her conflicts or confusion. She does not need to make any decisions, once she has made the essential choice: to place herself in the dominant's hands and under his control.
Surrender can be intoxicating for the Dom as well. It is thrilling to realize you have earned such profound trust from another human being. The Dom can exercise his will over his sub, do anything that pleases him, knowing that his actions also excite and satisfy her--because his pleasure makes her surrender more complete.
Probably the best way to demonstrate what I mean is to offer an (X-rated) excerpt, from The Understudy.
Geoffrey continued to survey his handiwork, close enough that I could feel the heat from his body, but he didn’t make contact with my hungry skin. Touch me, please! I felt like screaming. But already I knew enough to remain silent.
“I expect that from now on you will be on time.”
“Yes, sir. I’ll try.” Please, please, please―the mantra rang in my mind. But I knew he was once again teaching me patience.
Suddenly he scooped me up in his arms, carried me into the other room and settled me on the bed. I hardly had a moment to appreciate his strength before he released me. I moaned in disappointment.
“Hush! I’ll be with you shortly.” He began to unbutton his shirt.
I watched, holding my breath, as he revealed a muscled chest and flat belly scattered with black curls. Next he unbuckled his belt. It whooshed as he drew it out of his belt loops. From out of nowhere came the thought of that belt laying stinging trails of pain across my bottom.
He heard my gasp and grinned at me. “Not tonight, sweet. Your ass already looks like raw hamburger.”
He unzipped his trousers and pushed them down over his lean hips. His cock arched up from his groin, straining toward the ceiling.
Oh, God! Saliva gathered in my mouth. I stared at the fat rod of flesh bobbing up and down each time he moved. I was dying to run my tongue along the veined shaft and across the rosy bulb. He came to stand beside the bed, that sumptuous cock inches from my fingers. I wanted to grab him, squeeze him, stroke him until he showered me with his sticky jism. His eyes stopped me.
“Don’t forget, girl. I’m in charge here.”
“Yes, sir. I know.”
“Good. Now put your hands over your head and grab hold of the bars.” The headboard of the colonial style maple bed featured ranks of vertical wooden spindles.
“Are you going to tie me up?” I couldn’t believe what I was saying. Everything was happening so fast. I was driving on the freeway without brakes, my own perverse desires looming up and rushing by as I sped along.
I knew he read the naked desire in my face. He chose not to mock me.
“No. I want to see if you can be still, without being bound. Can you do that for me?”
“Yes,” I whispered, wondering if I really could.
“Tonight I just want to use you, to fuck you. To see just what kind of a slut you are.”
He climbed on the bed and nudged my thighs apart with his own. His cock gleamed like a rod of steel.
He rubbed the knob back and forth in the slick groove of my pussy. I arched and ground myself against him, the movements waking echoes of his spanking.
“No!” He clamped his nails around my nipple.
“I want you to lie still, as if you were bound, or drugged. No squirming around. No trying to come. You’ll come, I promise―I said you deserved a reward―but only when I want you to do so. Do you agree?”
Strange emotion welled up, tightening my chest. I could only nod.
“Trust me, little one. I won’t hurt you. Well, not much. Not more than you can bear. In return, I’ll lead you into a whole new world of pleasure.”
I gripped the wooden bars, watching him smooth a condom over the rampant length of that gorgeous cock. My pussy twitched and wept. I wanted him so badly I was ready to cry. Even more, though, I wanted to show him that I could obey.
Geoffrey positioned himself between my splayed thighs. “Remember, Sarah,” he said. “Be still.” Then he rammed his cock all the way into my cunt in one fierce stroke.
For me, the heat in this snippet comes not from the sexual acts themselves (although they don't hurt LOL), but from Sarah's freely given consent to being used and even abused. She trusts Geoffrey to lead her, to teach her, to test her, to protect her, and ultimately, to give her release. Without that trust, this scene would be boring, just another physical coupling. Sarah's surrender gives the scene urgency and deep significance – for both characters. It's hardly surprising that they end up loving one another – although there are barriers that almost derail their relationship.
In fact, erotic surrender doesn't require sex at all. It transcends sex. It's a connection of mind and spirit that leads to a new kind of experience, one that I at least find intoxicating.
BIO: A dozen years ago LISABET SARAI experienced a serendipitous fusion of her love of writing and her fascination with sex. Since then she has published three single author short story collections and six novels, including the BDSM classic Raw Silk. More than fifty of her shorter works have been released as ebooks and in print anthologies. She has also edited several acclaimed anthologies and is currently responsible for the altruistic erotica series COMING TOGETHER PRESENTS.
Lisabet holds more degrees than anyone needs from prestigious universities who would no doubt be embarrassed by her chosen genre. She loves to travel and currently lives in Southeast Asia with her highly tolerant husband and two cosmopolitan felines. For more information on Lisabet and her writing visit Lisabet Sarai's Fantasy Factory (http://www.lisabetsarai.com) or her blog Beyond Romance (http://lisabetsarai.blogspot.com).