BDSM GUEST POST/GIVEAWAY: Bianca Sommerland

BDSM GUEST POST/GIVEAWAY: Bianca Sommerland

The Sense of Surrender

"You don't have to decide right away. Just consider the adventure, the chance to try something new." His breath teased the flesh over her quickening pulse. "Which is what you're doing now. Right?"

Before she considered the question, the answer came. "Yes."

"Good girl." He backed away and straightened. "I want you to close your eyes."

Her eyes drifted shut.

"Sloan was right. You don't want to be in charge, you don't want control. Imagine giving it up. Imagine me holding you right where you are." She felt him shift and something grazed the jersey between her breasts. His heat swept through the fabric like a gentle caress. "And doing whatever I please."

* * * *

To some, the idea of being a submissive involved in the lifestyle might seem simple. You need to give up control and, like in all the best books, the right man comes along and takes it from you. Naturally, he takes it in the most gentle, loving way possible. Even when he’s rough, he’s being oh so careful. You don’t have to worry about anything. That’s his job.

While some of these ideals are possible, and certainly desirable, they hardly skim the surface of what it really means to be a submissive. No two people are the same, but there are certain similarities in the mindset of different types of submissive. Yes, there are different types, and though I’m not overly fond of labels, I’ll give you some idea of what I’ve come across with research and in my own experience. And what they all have in common.

In the excerpt above, we have Oriana, the heroine from GAME MISCONDUCT, who’s read a bit about BDSM and, like many, is curious, but a bit scared. Her fear might make her seem like a timid sub at first, but as she becomes more comfortable with her men, she has absolutely no problem speaking her mind. Even when it might get her in trouble.

* * * *

"Go sit on the toolbox in the back." Oriana pointed to the wooden box bolted to the floor in

the small space behind the seats. "This is my truck. I'm driving."

Sloan frowned. "Listen, pet—"

"I'm dressed, and we're not having sex, Sloan." She folded her hands over her knee and leaned forward, lashes fluttering. "Don't call me 'pet.' My truck, my rules. Go sit."

"You're gonna pay for this," Sloan muttered before he hunched over and folded himself onto the box. "I hope you know what you're doing, sweetheart."

"Why, Sloan, I thought you could read me so well." Tossing her hair over one shoulder, she

climbed into the driver's seat and buckled herself in. "Can't you tell?"

* * * *

As many of you know, some subs might have a deep desire to please, but have a bratty side to them that comes out from time to time. Oriana had her moments, but those who read her book knew her sister, Silver Delgado, would earn tons of punishments from her words and action. She’d be a handful, the type some Doms might not thing is worth the trouble. But Dean Richter saw she needed someone to care enough to set limits. To call her on her crap. To take some of her control.

* * * *

"Behave, Silver." Another hard slap struck her inner thigh when she tried to kick him. "I would have stopped at one for the sass, but I do not tolerate insults."

"You better get used to it, limp-dick!"

"Limp-dick?" He laughed and ground himself hard against her already sore ass. "Sweetheart, I am never 'limp' around you."

Oh oh oh! Sore as she was, her insides clenched at the idea of having him inside her again. Maybe another verbal shove would do the trick. "Well you're a fucking asshole anyway."

He sighed. "I think you enjoy being spanked too much for it to be a very effective punishment. Don't move."

For a few seconds, she stayed in that position, face down on his table, staring at the bowl of sliced apples which for some reason hadn't turned brown. Just as he returned, she realized she'd done what he'd told her to and tried to fix that by skirting away.

Something hit her, hard, and her breath caught in her throat. That wasn't his hand.

He laid the flogger on the table. "Don't make me use it again, pet."

Something wet squirted between her ass cheeks. Her eyes went wide. "No. Oh hell no!"

"Brace yourself."

Cold. Hard. Big. Pressing against her asshole. "I said no!"

Dean's big hand massaged the sorest spot on her butt. "Have you forgotten your safeword, pet?"

"No I haven't fucking forgotten."

The flogger disappeared. Crack! She grunted through her teeth as her body absorbed the sting.

"Manners," Dean said.

"I haven't fucking forgotten, sir!" Really? Then say it!

So twisted, but she really didn't want to. Her eyes teared up as the big thing—probably a butt

plug—was forced into her. Burning, burning, then a plop as it was seated snuggly.

"There we go." He pulled her to her feet. "Take your shower and leave it in. I may take it out

before you sit down to eat if you tell me how sorry you are."

"I'm not sorry."

He frowned as though frustrated with her response. "You know what, I believe you. I may have been very wrong about you. Do whatever you want."

Fine, I will. Not like it mattered what he thought. She laughed in his face and scampered to the bathroom before he could use the flogger again. The plug was just big enough for discomfort, but nothing she couldn't handle. He should have gone for a bigger size if he really wanted to punish her.

Size didn't matter much as the heavy plug weighed on the snug ring of muscles. Irritating, but worse, a constant reminder of how things had shifted from their talking and then their lusty play.

Under the hot spray she felt her defiance wash away. Part of her wanted to push him, to test him, but . . .

But what?

The way he'd looked at her, that disappointment, which only darkened after she'd laughed,

ruined everything. Maybe she'd pushed him too far. She didn't want him to stop caring.

* * * *

Another thing most subs have is a need for someone to understand parts of them they don’t fully understand themselves. For someone to accept them, love them, because and despite the very same things that may cause others to reject them. In Breakaway, Jami Richter has a hard time dealing with her own kinks. Has moments where she wonders if she’ll ever be ‘normal’. But what she needs more than anything is a man who can teach her that what most people consider normal has no place in their relationship. That he loves her enough to fulfill those needs in a way that will satisfy them both.

* * * *

"I am losing you, mi cielo." Sebastian leaned his elbows by her head and slowed his thrusts. His eyes were dark and the light of the moon gave the hair framing his hard face the sheen of

polished ebony. "Where have you gone?"

"I'm with you." Her body ached as a violent orgasm closed in on her, but something was

missing. The final admission that would close the gap between them. "There are things you don't understand about me. I'm a little weird."

"No more than I am, gatita."

He didn't get it. And his slow grind was making it very hard to get the words out. But she

managed. "I need to belong to someone."

"You belong to me." A low growl underlined his tone as he rocked into her. The fierceness in

his eyes quickened her pulse. "Tell me how I must prove it. If I must keep you all to myself—if I

must fight any man that wants you—"

"Is that what you want? When you say 'you're mine', does that mean you don't ever want

another man to touch me?"

"If I allow another man to touch you, he is under my control as well. He may have as much,

or as little of you as I allow him."

Her blood surged low and flames licked her flesh. Everything within clamped down, so tight

she felt the way the skin of his dick shifted with every motion, felt the thick head of his cock

spreading her as it reached her core. Fuck. Maybe he does get it. "Sebastian—"

"You've no desire to be a possession high on a shelf only I can reach. You are mi tesoro and I

may choose to let others admire what is mine. I may choose to let them look, but not touch. Or

touch, but not taste." He gave her a slow, wicked smile as he eased almost all the way out, teasing her entrance with the head of his dick. "To taste but not to fuck."

She groaned as he slammed into her, arousal unraveling like a flaming ribbon of pleasure

deep within. Right and wrong had no meaning. She needed whatever he was willing to give.

"Someday soon I will have you bound and blindfolded, on display for guests in my home.

An erotic centerpiece." His tone took on a lulling quality, the one which seemed to entrance any

he used it on. And it affected her the same way. He framed her face with his hands, his lips

hovering over hers, rolling his hips so his dick circled deep within. "You will never know whose

hands are on you, who is kissing you, toying with you."

The ribbon flared up, coiling faster and faster even though his movements had slowed. Her

eyes teared as he moved in and out in short half thrusts, anchoring her in the heat until the

sensation of endless pleasure made her dizzy. Like being high, only better. Pure.

"I must warn you of one thing, mi cielo." He drove in hard and reached between them,

scissoring his fingers over her clit, creating a friction which caused the threads of heat to spark

and fray. "I will become rather possessive after I share you. It may takes days, even weeks before I am comfortable doing so again." He stretched her clit slightly and she gasped as it ignited like a struck match. He growled against her throat. "I am feeling very possessive now."

* * * *

So what do they have in common? Well, that part is simple. BDSM requires a whole different level of focus then typically expected in a ‘normal’ relationship. Bound and gagged or on your knees, you’re not begging your lover for attention. You have it all.

And who doesn't need to feel love in a way that leaves no room for doubt.

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For the first two chapters of BREAKAWAY, please visit: http://www.im-no-angel.com/breakaway.html

For the length of the BDSM Challenge, GAME MISCONDUCT (The Dartmouth Cobras #1) is FREE. Go Here: http://www.im-no-angel.com/game-misconduct.html for links to available online vendors.

For more of the Dartmouth Cobras, visit their website: www.TheDartmouthCobras.com

Author's website: www.Im-No-Angel.com

Twitter: @BSommerland

Facebook: I'm No Angel

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