BDSM and Me

First let me get the promo out-of-the-way – I have a new release coming on June 4th called Niah’s Pride – a Pryde Ranch shifter novella. Okay, now that’s done, let’s get down to it!

I’ve read some very good romance novels with BDSM (Bondage, Discipline, Dominance, Submission, Sadism, Masochism) as the couple’s choice, but I’d never actually known anyone in real life that favored the lifestyle…until a couple of years ago.

A very good friend of mine called and said, “Hey, I’m going to a munch tonight with some new friends and I’m not comfortable going by myself. Will you go with me?”

My first thought was, what the hell is a munch and why does she need me to go get something to eat with her? “I’m not afraid of these people,” she said, “but they are new friends and I’ve never been to that restaurant before so I’m not sure where it is.”

Of course, I was convinced more than ever it was an ‘eating’ thing. She went on to explain that a munch was a gathering of people who were “in the lifestyle”. It was a time where they got together to enjoy some candid and fun conversation, get to know others in the scene, and most importantly, impart knowledge to noobs (new people exploring BSDM). They talk about what BDSM is and what it isn’t from their own perspectives, and so on.

Nosey author that I am I quickly said, “Sure, I’ll go with you as long as no one expects me to play with them.”

She assured me there were no worries as that wasn’t the purpose of a munch. Others might decide to play afterward, but not during. So we hopped in my car and rode over to the restaurant and met her new friends in a little banquet room. The door closed and my new education began.

I learned that while many think BDSM or D/s (Dominant/submissive relationships) is about one person controlling or exerting their will on another, it isn’t the case.

D/s isn’t just about kink or fantasy role-play. It’s not about whips and chains, broken bones, pain and squicky stuff the media has burned into our heads. Although some may enjoy that type of thing, D/s relationships are about power exchange. There’s no gender bias here. Various sexual preferences are proudly flaunted and accepted. In many ways, the lifestyle brings about a community. There’s a sense of brotherhood amongst Dominants and submissives who are comfortable and open with their lifestyle choice.

Here’s what one person, Alan Howard, had to say about it when someone asked the question, “Regarding your ‘Dominant/submission’ interest, why do you feel the need to control women?”

Answer: “I don’t feel the need to control women. That’s not what ‘dominance’ is about. Instead, I feel the need to just be the dominant partner in a relationship.

“I might need to explain the difference between dominance and control… The difference between a dominant man and a controlling man is whether or not he cares about consent. Consent to dominance must be given by the submissive. She must want to be dominated by him as much as he wants her to submit to him……”

“Control does not require consent, and a controlling partner is likely to be an abusive partner, while a dominant partner is more likely to be a loving partner….. Being the dominant part of a Dominant/submissive (D/s) relationship carries significant responsibility. If you’re the Dom, your submissive partner is giving themselves to you, and you choose to become responsible for their mental and physical well-being within the dynamics of the relationship that you both agree to participate in. Rules and behaviours expected from each member are established through extensive communication, and the responsibility of mutual care is far more important than most ‘vanilla’ (non-BDSM) relationships.”

That’s very interesting. I also learned about how important communication is in a D/s relationship. I had no idea that there was such a thing as negotiating scenes, aftercare for Dominants and submissives. Or that it is necessary for a top to carefully monitor their bottom to ensure that they’re doing okay before, during and sometimes days after playing due to the possibility of something called sub-drop.

Every relationship has some form of D/s in it. Now before you start shaking your head and grumbling, “Nu-uh, not my relationships!” think about this – Isn’t it true that a person may be a leader outside the bedroom (top dog in the office running a top notch company, for example) yet want to be submissive (take me! pull my hair!) in the bedroom when they get home? Even in friendships, there is typically one friend that is more dominant than the other – you now, one person is more outspoken about where they should have lunch or what movie to see while the other is just fine accepting their friend’s lead. See, dominance and submission.

In the end, the munch was a gathering of ‘normal’ people that go to work every morning, take care of their families, live and love like everyone else. The difference is that those people aren’t afraid to explore their own sexuality and care enough to share the truth of it with others.

Since then I’ve been exploring the lifestyle and having a load of fun making new friends. The end result – a new BDSM series is underway! The first book in the series is called ‘Juicy’ and you’ll see it by the end of 2013. Woohoo!

Soooo, whatcha think?

TJ Michaels
www.tjmichaels.com

The winner of the download, by random number generator is, Charlene!
Charlene, congrats and be sure to email me to arrange delivery of your story!

* * * * *

Have to be quick! My satellite’s been mostly out last night and this morning due to storm activity. No, we haven’t seen a twister, but there’s cloud cover and we just had a hellacious thunderstorm. So no time to chat!

Enjoy the excerpt, then follow the links to the other Snippeteers’ websites for more!

If you post a comment today, you’ll be entered to win
a free download of this short story!

A little peek deserves a little punishment…

Afraid to spoil their friendship, Emily is reluctant to act on her attraction to the two sexy men next door. However, when she’s caught spying on them, the men decide a little punishment is in order…

Beads of condensation, glittering jewel-like in the sputtering candlelight, ran in rivulets down the sides of Jason’s ice-cold beer.

Detail I shouldn’t have been able to note, given the fact I was thirty feet away.

As I lowered my nephew’s toy binoculars, I reflected that I had indeed sunk to a new low. You see, my bedroom window conveniently overlooked Jason and Robert’s backyard. A fact that probably never registered with the previous tenants, but one that proved too delicious to ignore after the arrival of the handsome duo. Privacy fencing, which ran down to the pier that jutted into the lake, separated the row of houses where we lived. It was high enough the neighbors on either side of ours couldn’t see into their yard, but lucky me—I had the perfect view.

Upon discovering this, I had began a furtive surveillance. One that had me cringing in embarrassment each time I greeted them in passing and feeling even more ashamed when we struck up a friendship.

We’d shared meals, drinks, late afternoon swims, watched football games together on their wide-screen TV. And still, I peeked into their backyard, waiting for those moments when they popped outside to mow the lawn or catch a few summer rays. Their bodies gleamed with sweat while raw lust warred inside me, along with the fear that I’d mess up our relationship if I let the guys know how I really felt.

My convenient perch on the windowsill afforded me a window into their private lives, and from the very beginning, I was hooked. They’d become an obsession, one frustrated by the fact they treated me like a kid sister, rather than a woman one of them might desire.

And therein lay another problem. I’d resisted the urge to seek a deeper relationship because then I’d have to choose. My libido was completely fickle, lusting after Jason’s muscled physique, then sighing over the possibilities of what Robert’s tall, bony frame and large feet hinted at. That their personalities were perfect bookends, fierce and funny, confused my heart as well.

Lucky, lucky me. I licked the sweat gathering on my upper lip while this night one of the handsome men living next door tilted his bottle and took several long sips. The look of pure bliss that softened his otherwise stern features made my chest ache.

I watched the movement of Jason’s throat as he worked it down, imagining him sipping at my overheated flesh. My skin began to tingle. My nipples beaded, crowding uncomfortably against my lace bra. My thighs clenched as a delicious wash of arousal seeped to wet the crotch of my plain panties.

The sigh he emitted as he set the bottle on the table was echoed by my own painful groan. Watching either of them had never caused my heart to skip a beat like that hint of a moan sliding on the tail of Jason’s long exhalation.

Sure, it was hotter than hell out there. I too felt the effects of the enervating heat. Record temperatures had strained the region’s resources and planned service interruptions began that night. But something about that sigh felt…un-subtle, exaggerated, maybe even dramatic. And Jason was too straightforward a man for that.

I blotted sweat from my forehead, asking myself again, What am I doing?

Only this time, my peeping hadn’t been deliberate. I’d rushed home from work and showered quickly to beat the scheduled brown-out. Then I’d stripped to my underwear, pulled back the curtains, and opened the window, hoping for a breeze to cool my skin. Sitting limply on the sill, I waited for the world to flicker into life again.

That’s when I’d noticed him, sitting in a lounge chair alone in the dark.

He wore his usual work “uniform”—khaki trousers, white shirt and a tie. Tonight, the tie hung loosened and askew, his collar opened beneath it.

Despite the lack of electricity, I could see it all. Moonlight silvered his dark hair and reflected bright as a beacon against the white shirt. The golden light from the large Citronella candle leant warmth to his skin and the amber bottle he held between his hands.

As always, he was lovely to watch, but tonight, his expression drew my attention more than his breath-stealing features. A sullen slanting of his brows, a bit of pout plumping his masculine lips, an edgy energy to his slight movements—he was either irritated or aroused.

Wanting an answer to the “either-or,” I watched. My forte is observation; my people-radar exquisitely tuned to body language and a voice’s tonal cues. My curiosity and my lust were caught. No way could I back away from my window now.

The bottle tapped the table as he set it aside. A long-fingered hand tugged the knot of his tie, dragging it from his neck.

When he began to undo the row of buttons down the front of his shirt, I settled deeper on the sill, leaning closer, but taking care to keep my pale body hidden behind the sheer curtain.

The edges of the shirt parted over a broad, nicely muscled chest. My gaze zeroed in on taut lean abs dusted with dense fur the same color as his close-cropped black hair that stretched nipple to nipple then ran along a thin dark line to slip beneath his zipper.

His hand stroked his chest, scratching through the hair, the faint crinkling sound causing my own chest to tighten, my nipples to surge.

A light sheen of sweat glimmered on his chest and belly. Again, my tongue swept my lips, tasting salt, and I imagined I lapped the dew right off his skin.

When a lazily roaming hand slid over his belly, I tensed, fascinated as he swept the flat plane. Would he be hard or desk-soft? His stomach looked firm. So, I enjoyed fantasizing that he was and touched my own stomach, following his path.

His hand slid down to the knot bulging behind his fly, and he cupped it. Squeezed.

My own hands itched to replace his and grew still, clenching against the fantasy of holding his burgeoning cock as it roused. My cheeks heated and my breaths shortened. No need to tease my own body into arousal, moisture already soaked my panties.

The buckle clanked open, and the belt slid sinuously from the loops as he lifted his hips and pulled it free. A flick of his thumb and the button at the waistband of his trousers opened. His zipper rasped as it slid down.

Dark fabric formed a vee-like shadow as his hand rooted beneath his waist, and then he slipped the long, gleaming column of his semi-aroused sex from the flap at the front of his boxers and wrapped his fingers around it.

I swallowed the liquid pooling in my mouth. I blinked to moisten eyes that had grown dry and scratchy as I stared, wide-eyed. My breaths grew ragged, a little choked, and I must have made a noise, because suddenly his head swung my way.

His gaze narrowed on my bedroom window.

Holding my breath, I froze, hoping his gaze couldn’t penetrate the darkness.

But a crooked smile slowly stretched his lips, and his hand tightened around himself and began to pump up and down the thickening rod. All the while, he stared at me.

Jason knew I watched but didn’t seem to mind. I let out a deep, trembling breath and continued to stare, my own body heating, growing increasingly aroused in tandem with his hardening cock.

His head turned away, and his hand dropped from his engorged cock. It fell against his belly with a soft, muffled thud. Heavy, hot, thick—I knew its girth would stretch my mouth.

Another sound intruded. The chime of my doorbell. I bit back a curse and drew away from the window, slung on my robe, then headed downstairs to the front door.

Robert stood on the stoop, a lazy grin on his face, a sweep of lank blonde hair covering one eye and two beers dangling from his fingers. He was shirtless. Low-riding, blue knee-length shorts encased slender hips and revealed long legs. His large feet were bare. “Thought you might like to join us.”

“Us?” A pinch grabbed my belly and I repeated stupidly, dragging my glance upward again to lock with his.

“Jason and I?” His head tilted, and his pale blue eyes studied me.

Did he know what Jason was up to? He hadn’t been in the back yard. Maybe he didn’t know and the invitation was issued without a carnal subtext.

Not like I hadn’t enjoyed a beer or dinner at their place before, but those times had always been a “friend thing.”

“Are you okay? You look a little flushed.” The teasing glint in his eyes, and more, the narrowed focus of his stare, told me he knew exactly what I’d seen. His gaze slid beyond my shoulder into my darkened living room. “Keep us company until the lights come on?”