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    I’m very excited to be back here at Margie’s being SASS-y today. It was just a few weeks ago that I was here talking about research and I was revealing what one of my field trips led me to. An insatiable curiosity about BDSM relationships. As I said then, it was actually a character in a series I’m working on that led me down that path, but it was another character that grew from my discoveries. Chad Dearborn, one of the heroes in Identity Crisis. When Rebel Ink Press picked it up and decided to publish it, I of course put out the feelers for places to talk about it. Places that were accepting of such taboo subjects, and since Margie is all about the SASS here I am. When Margie said she had a place for me today, I asked her if she had anything in particular in mind that she’d like to see me talk about and coincidentally she asked me to talk about why I chose to write the sub-genre, what my challenges were and what aspects of the lifestyle I delved into. I say coincidentally because her suggestions came on the heels of a freshly finished blog piece about many of those very things.

The whys. Well, as stated above, curiosity first and foremost. My whys were the whys. Why do people do this and why does it work? Well, people participate in these relationships for the same reason a vanilla couple do—it’s what makes them feel good and it’s fulfilling. It’s just a tad more complicated. Where a vanilla couples biggest decision might entail whether they want to do it on the sofa or the kitchen counter for a bit of a change, a Dom and a sub may have to contemplate equipment, i.e. cuffs or chains, latex or leather, gags or blindfolds, whips or cat-o-nine tails. While the vanilla couple is considering the risk of the couch in a sense of, let’s say, possibly getting caught red handed by a three year old, the other couple is considering the physical risks of using any and all the equipment, the emotional turmoil that can result of mishandling of power, and the boundaries they are willing to cross. In some cases the decision to bring in multiple partners comes in to play and that person’s role in the scheme of things must also be considered. Where does the third, or even fourth, fall in the hierarchy and dynamics? And all this leads to a most important observation I’ve made and an opinion I may be alone in harboring but believe whole-heartedly. I believe because of the intense dynamics of a BDSM and/or ménage relationship, it takes a hell of a lot more trust to participate in and live this life than in a vanilla world. Not only are the people involved defining so many roles and making so many decisions, these relationships are a complete and utter surrender of not only body, but mind, heart and soul. The Dom trusts himself to know the boundaries he must adhere to whereas a sub must exert complete faith that the Dom will do his part and stick to the boundaries while cherishing her and ensuring she is taken care of in every possibly way, not just sexually. That takes a lot of trust. So, why did I write this? To show others what I’ve learned—this is not a fringe taboo sub-culture to be avoided and afraid of—it simply takes some degree of understanding and I hope to have written a story that reflects that and maybe dispels some of the misunderstandings.

I realize I am far from an expert yet, I’m still researching through various means—not personal experience mind you as I’ve had some people outright ask “Do you do that stuff?” The answer is no, but as Margie pointed out it takes some degree of skill to not only understand elements of ménage and BDSM but it also takes a great deal of skill to write them. With very talented writers in the field sitting at the top of best-selling lists, I realize that competing in that arena has to be my biggest challenge and I sincerely hope I’ve done my job and done the subject justice. I hope all my terminology is correct, I’ve used all the right equipment and elicited all the emotion possible, and I hope everyone’s parts are where they are supposed to be at the right time. Anytime you have more than one person the logistics get as complicated as the emotions.  Who did what and when, with what and how did it feel. If you think POV is an issue with two players, try three or more.

Thank you Margie, Maya, and Cherise for giving me some great reading not only for pleasure but for research in how to make it all work and flow. Feel free to critique me, I’m still learning and the instruction will be welcome. And thank you to the countless anonymous people out there that have answered questions and pointed me in the right direction, you’re knowledge and help is priceless.

  The aspects. Well, I went pretty far but not nearly as far as I could have gone. There’s no fire or blood, well no blood in so far as “cutting” or “letting”, there’s always some amount of it during play with devices such as a cat-o-nine tails, but I don’t outright descriptively address it.  But there’s plenty of bondage, deprivation, dominance and submission, and whipping with various instruments to go around. One of my very good friends, a m/m writer who’s as vanilla as a m/m writer can get, asked me what I was writing and wanted a sample. I sent him the ending sexual encounter that involves Chad, his wife Tori and their newly found third, Ren. He read it, turned about seven shades of red and said, “That Ren is a domineering ass!” I had to laugh a bit. While it’s not funny by any means, the humor came into play in that I remember being that ignorant of the lifestyle at one point. He didn’t get it and has yet to be able to wrap his head around it. It is hard to grasp, but once it clicks it makes perfect sense. It’s a highly emotionally charged dynamic and the pain part comes in from the “runners high” or adrenaline rush that is attained during play. However, that’s not to say that there aren’t those that are into this for all the wrong reasons, decidedly the control high alone—the feeling of having someone under his, or her, thumb with no intention of pleasuring the sub at all. There are people slinking around the fringes looking for this type of domination and as far as I am concerned give those that appreciate the loving relationship between Dom and sub a bad name. I can assure you neither Chad nor Ren are slinkers. They are completely devoted to Tori, their only conflict being which one is the alpha Dom. Trust me when I say I struggled right alongside them as they fought for that spot, and was as surprised as they were when the winner was announced.

Now you know a bit more about what I was thinking, why I did it, and how I found out. By this time you’re probably wondering what the title to this article has to do with anything so far. Well, I’m known for my sensual softer writing and this story sure weaves off that beaten path. So, while I still will be writing the sensual side of things, I will also continue to pursue this new avenue as well—I haven’t left the farm, I’ll just be rotating the crops occasionally. Want to know a bit more about Identity Crisis and read a little bit?

   Someone once said you never truly know a person,

Chad Dearborn was raised with a silver spoon in his mouth. He was given everything a person could want and more, country clubs were his daycares and Paris and London his playgrounds. Heir to Dearborn Inc., Chad stands to inherit a veritable fortune. But the problem is his parents want to gift him the perfect wife to go with it. A woman in the form of a molded, plastic, jet set dolly. Certainly not Chad’s idea of an ideal mate. He wants a woman that can hold her own, in and out of the bedroom. Who knew he’d find her in one of Portland’s hottest leather clubs? Chad was fascinated by what went on there, but something just wouldn’t let him cross that line.

until you sleep with them.

Country clubs? Europe? The closest Tori Myers ever came to those things were the covers of magazines. With an absent father, a less than attentive mother and nowhere to go, Tori finds herself drawn to an alternative lifestyle at the tender age of eighteen. Vertigo is a treasure chest of Dom’s willing to give her anything she wants. But when Chad Dearborn walks through the door, Tori figures out sometimes what your heart wants isn’t necessarily what your body is willing to compromise to have.

Or do you?

The thing that just wouldn’t let Chad cross the line with his sexuality has come home to roost. And as a result, he's faced with a huge decision. Accept who he is and what he wants.  Or continue to fight the biggest identity crisis of his life.

 Please enjoy an excerpt:

 Tori walked over to the full length cherry wood framed mirror standing on claw feet in the corner of her bedroom and looked at the image staring back at her. With sure fingers, she placed the crimson collar around her neck and fastened it at her nape. It was beautiful. Fingering the diamond encrusted lock, Tori thought about how hard Chad had fought before he finally claimed her and closed the tiny gold lock that hung on the cheap imitation leather collar she wore before he came along. Once he took her though, it had been replaced by a real leather one, but it was nothing compared to this. The first collar Chad gave Tori was black and had a few rubies embedded in it and the lock was sterling silver. Nice by anyone’s standards, but it didn’t hold a candle to the beauty encircling her throat now.

“Why are you still coming here?” Tori asked Chad as she slid over the slick stool beside him at the end of the stainless steel bar with dull purple neon glowing from beneath the edge.

“Because you haven’t agreed to leave with me yet,” Chad answered and held up his tumbler for another whiskey. “When you do I‘ll have no reason to come back.”

“You don’t get it do you?” Tori twirled the melting chunks of ice around the bottom of her empty glass.

“Get what?”

“This is who I am, Chad. It’s what I am.” She lifted the glass and sucked what was left of a cube between her lips, catching it with her front teeth. Ice was one of her favorite things to play with. Chad would probably bolt at the sight of what Rio did with ice cubes behind closed doors.

“And I’m trying to understand it. On some level I do more than you know…” Chad drifted off and looked over Tori’s shoulder toward the dance floor. “Are you going home with Rio again?”

“I don’t go home with anyone from here,” Tori admitted. “I do what I want here and leave it here.” She rubbed the lock on her collar between her forefinger and thumb, wondering if she’d ever find someone that completed her enough to close it. “Do you know what this means?”

“That you’re unclaimed. Thank, God.” Chad removed the swizzle stick from his fresh drink, took a healthy swallow then stuck the thin red plastic between his teeth and chewed on it.

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

“As long as it’s open, I still have a chance to be the one to close it.”

“You know what it’ll take,” Tori said, turning away from him and looking out across the dance floor at Rio swaying behind another woman.

He was hip to hip with her, grinding, his hands under her scantily covered breasts and his lips suctioned to her throat. A smile erupted across the woman’s face at something Rio whispered in her ear then he reached up and clasped her lock shut. Extracting her from his frame he spun her, attached his chain to her collar and led her away. Rio had claimed another, demanding submission.

“Do you love him?” Chad asked almost sympathetically. When Tori didn’t answer he reached around, tucked his forefinger under her chin and pulled her face gently to face him. “Do you love him, Tori?”

“No.”

“Then that shouldn’t bother you.”

“It doesn’t bother me for the reason you think it does,” Tori said, motioning for the bartender. If she wasn’t going to be satisfied one way, she might as well be satisfied another. A few drinks and she’d take a cab home to her power driven rabbit. It wouldn’t be what she really craved, but something was better than nothing. Right?

“What’s the reason then?” Chad pressured.

“You wouldn’t understand,” Tori told him. She tipped the glass the bartender left in front of her back, downed half the contents then slid off the stool. “You gonna sit there all night or go with me to see that woman surrender to Rio?”

Chad looked at the floor then up at Tori. He took a long deep breath and emotions Tori couldn’t place plagued his eyes, but instead of getting up and walking out the door, Chad got up, took her hand and led her through the crowd to the public viewing room where the woman in a red leather micro-mini was lashed facing a St. Andrew’s cross. Rio stood in front of her, his eyes steady and his jaw set while the man Rio was known to share with brought a cat-o-nine tails down across her left shoulder. When the tiny steel beads on the ends of the leather strips met her flesh and scraped the surface, Chad’s hand gripped Tori’s tightly and a hint of sweat seeped between their palms. She could have sworn his pulse quickened beneath the meaty palm side of his thumb as it gripped the back of her hand. Was it disgust that elicited the response or was he actually becoming aroused?

Tori leaned her head in closer to his shoulder and inhaled. Pheromones flew off the man’s skin stopping Tori’s heart and her breath. He was aroused. She looked up and saw Chad’s pulse fluttering at the base of his throat and as she heard the woman cry out at the next strike, Tori’s pussy flooded and pulsed, grasping at nothing and demanding to grasp something—anything.

“I have to go,” Tori whispered and tried to break Chad’s iron grip.

“Why? I thought you wanted to watch.”

Chad glanced down at her with his eyes ablaze and his nostrils flared. While Tori’s breath was stalled in her chest, his was coming in choppy gasps.

“I can’t. Not tonight,” she croaked and tried again to break free of his clutch.

“Let me take you home, Tori,” Chad told her. “Give me a chance.”

“I can’t do that either, Chad.” Tori tore her hand out of his and turned to run only to find herself pressed into the cold black wall behind them with Chad’s erection riding up the small of her back.

“Let me in, Tori. We could be so good together if you’d just let me in.” Chad’s breath was hot in her ear and Tori’s knees buckled. Another snap of the cat-o-nine tails sang in the background and another cry followed it. Tori’s pussy went straight from clenching to tightening so hard it ached.

“Please don’t do this, Chad. You know there are far too many reasons for us to not do this. You can’t give me what I want and I don’t fit in your world either. In more ways than one,” Tori tried to reason, squirming beneath Chad’s much bigger and stronger body. Although her resolve to escape was rapidly melting as his tongue slid easily across her collar bone.

“God, Tori you smell so good.” Chad pressed further into her and blew across the damp skin he’d just assaulted with his tongue sending prickles along Tori’s entire body. “Baby, please, what’s it gonna take to get you to give in?”

“You have to take me.”

“Let me.”

“My way,” Tori insisted with frustration over clenched teeth.

Chad nearly growled then backed away from her. Before Tori could turn, she felt him leave. Tears stung the corners of her eyes as she made her way through the club, ran out the front door and hailed a taxi.

You can purchase Identity Crisis at www.amazon.com , www.bookstrand.com , or at ARe  http://www.allromanceebooks.com/storeSearch.html?searchBy=publisher&qString=Rebel+Ink+Press

 

Lila Munro loves to hear from her readers and can be contacted via her website, her joint effort website http://www.wickedmuses.blogspot.com or through Facebook at http://www.facebook.com/Lila_Munro . You can also contact her via email at lilasromance@gmail.com .  For more information about Rebel Ink Press please visit their website at www.rebelinkpress.com.

 Lila! thank you for sharing the complexities of writing BDSM. It's not what most people think and writing it, especially if you don't life the lifestyle is challenging for sure!

Lila is giving away a copy of her new release, Identity Crisis to one pithy commenter! Tell us what you think of her new book, of BDMS, whatever you want...she'll choose one lucky winner.