Wherefore Art Thou Romeo?
And also “Hark, what light through yonder window breaks?” I mean, really, if anyone said that to me I’d be phoning the men with the white coats. Shakespeare isn’t the only one who wrote things that aren’t quite true to life. We authors write fiction. We embellish, we spray paint, we nail boards over the shonky bits and maybe even stomp on the fingers of the less handsome guys so they don’t inhabit our stories. And readers know this and mostly don’t mind.
Yet when it comes to writing Doms in BDSM stories even though they may be polished to the nth degree and gold-plated and given appendages a frickin elephant would be proud of, there seems to be a tendency to pine after these perfect specimens of manhood in a way that does not happen with the average romance.
I’m thinking this is partly because many women hide their secret desire for BDSM in a deep place inside their head and never ever let it out, until one day they start to read about it in novels and suddenly, wow, they realize they are not as freaky as they thought. There’s even a name for this phenomenon and it’s called sub frenzy. We humans love to label things.
And yet, a real man, Dom or not, knows he is not perfect. Those who beg to differ should be swiftly shoved off their pedestal and buried under some manure to honor their passing.
In a way, 31 Flavors was written to fill a gap in the erotic fiction field of books. This is a story based on a true story. It is not told exactly as it happens but the majority of it did happen. The woman it is based on is a friend of mine and agreed to tell her story because she wanted to show how she negotiated the minefield she confronted when she asked her husband, Nick, to tie her up and spank her. It’s not an easy thing to do. Fear governs much of what we do. It stops us dead in our tracks. Makes us feel a little sick even when the consequences can rock our world. The possibility that Sidney might alienate the one man she loved made the step she took a mammoth one in her life. I applaud her courage.
But this book is more than just sex and love. In one reviewer’s words (Angelina from this website)
“It’s serious, funny, sad, and HOT all wrapped up in a wonderful story with very relatable characters.”
But one of the funniest things, in a quirky way, to come out of this story is that some in the BDSM community may regard what Sid and Nick did as wrong, as not following the correct procedure or rules. People always like their rules – even the very fringe-of-society rule-breakers themselves. To which all Leia and I can do is scratch our heads and say, But they are in love, and happy. What can be wrong with that? Or as Angelina also aptly said,
“There is no one-size fits all when it comes to sex or BDSM for that matter. There is no checklist to guide you through the exact way to experience BDSM.”
If you read 31 Flavors, may you enjoy it, mistakes and all, and may you yourself gain some happiness. Life is what you make of it.
After 5 years of awful sex, I was ready. Bondage and spanking had always featured in my fantasies, and one day, I convinced my husband to try them. That day was a turning point.
Ice cream comes in many flavors and that’s us too – not vanilla, maybe not Rocky Road either. We can be a combination or make up our own and no one has the right to judge us.
But there will always be one question that tears at my soul: Will my husband, Nick, ever be happy with what I crave?
About Us: 31 Flavors is a book that is heavily based on a true love story. Although the sex scenes are obviously fictionalized, much of it really happened. This isn’t just another erotic BDSM story. We both felt (Leia and Cari) there was a place for a novel where the readers might draw parallels with their own lives -- a story where idealistic, perfect people did not exist, where mistakes are made, and in particular, where the top or Dom is not some godlike creation and the submissive or bottom is just your average girl-next-door.
Cari Silverwood: Cari writes stories that leap from the page and blast you from your bed. Heroines who will come rescue you and heroes who will drag you back to bed by your hair and ravish you endlessly. Did she mention there was sex and adventure in her stories?
Leia Shaw: Insert one alpha male, one kick-ass female, a sprinkle of magic, a drop of steamy romance, and a pinch of darkness and you get the Shadows of Destiny, a bestselling paranormal romance series by Leia Shaw.
Looking up at me, Nick grins. “Well, maybe you could seduce me?”
I blink. “Me?”
“Yeah, like a little lap dance or a strip tease.”
Fucking A. Of course the pain in the ass would pick something completely out of my comfort zone. A strip tease and a lap dance? I’ve never had a single dance lesson. I’m awkward and clumsy and not the least bit sexy.
Don’t be a taker, I scold myself. He tied me up. He spanked me. He stepped out of his comfort zone, I can too.
Steeling myself for humiliation, I rise from the bed. As seductively as I can manage, I raise the hem of my blouse. “Like this?” I purr.
Nick puts his arms behind his head and his gaze rakes me over. A big grin stretches across his face. He likes it. Okay, I can do this. I pull my shirt up higher, exposing my bra.
“Yeah!” Nick praises from the bed.
I give him a flirty smile then start to pull the blouse over my head. It’s a little tight and I tug harder. Buttons. The damn shirt has buttons, dummy. I bring my arms down to undo the top button, but something yanks on my ear.
Ow! Ow, ow, ow. I freeze, my arms over head, my shirt covering my face. The top button is stuck on the stupid hoop earrings I insisted on wearing to work today. I was trying to look sexy. Not so sexy now, am I?
“Honey? Are you okay?”
He doesn’t need to see my face to know I’m blushing. I’m sure it covers my entire body. But I can recover. I can still pull this off. Somehow, I will make this sexy.
“Um.” My voice is muffled in my shirt. I go for a casual tone. “I’m fine. I’m just…going slow. So you can, you know, savor it.” I move my hips side to side in a seductive sway while simultaneously trying to untangle my earring.
The arm opposite the stuck earring is halfway in my shirt sleeve so I jerk my upper body to the side, trying to get it over to help. But it won’t quite reach where I need it. I’m panting with the exertion and getting a bit frantic that it won’t come loose. I wriggle my arms furiously trying to get them out of the sleeves. Every few seconds I stop and shake my hips toward Nick. Or somewhere. I’m not really sure which direction I’m facing anymore.
Oh God, how ridiculous do I look?
I hear a strangled snort from behind me. I spin around and freeze. Is he laughing at me? Except for the crinkling of the shirt over my ears, the room is silent.
My arms ache and my ear hurts. I blow out a breath of air.
Nick clears his throat. “Do you need help?” The end of the sentence is choked off with a covered chuckle.
“Yes,” I say, defeated.
I hear him rise from the bed. Then his fingers are on me, unbuttoning my blouse.
“Careful,” I tell him from inside the cave of my shirt. “My earring is stuck.”
“I got it.”
His fingers work deftly, freeing my face and arms, and just the blouse is dangling from my earring. He works on getting that loose too, leaning in close to see where the earring and blouse entangle. I look up at him. Maybe it’s the lack of oxygen from being stuck in my shirt, but he’s never looked so handsome.
“Hi,” I say sheepishly.
He smirks. “Hi.” His breath touches my lips and lingers.
Suddenly, I want to kiss him. Need to kiss him. I lean forward. “Ow!” Something tugs my earring.
“Stay still,” he orders softly. His arm wraps around my waist and pulls me against his body. Goose bumps rise along the skin on my belly and back. Am I getting turned on? I exhale a laugh.
Nick is rescuing me from an utterly unsexy and quite possibly life threatening strip tease. I probably looked like one those moles with the red tendril thingys on its head, clawing its way out of the ground. I should be digging a hole into the ground and hiding in humiliation.
Finally, the blouse falls to the floor and my ear is free. I pull both hoops out and place them on the dresser. Nick steps back and looks me over. His mouth is tight with a restrained grin.
I point a finger at him. “Don’t. Laugh.”
He covers his mouth with his hand and his shoulders shake. My eyes narrow and I launch myself at him, toppling him onto the bed. I straddle his hips as his hysterical laughter fills the room.
“Shut up.” I try to cover his mouth with my hand but he blocks me.
“That was cute, Sid,” he says between roars of laughter. “It was like a sea cucumber giving birth to an anemone.”
I gasp and try to smack him but he dodges my hand.
“A sexy sea cucumber,” he adds.
This time, I go for the jugular. He catches my wrists and holds them captive. “So violent. I may be new at this, but I’m pretty sure beating up your Dom is bad behavior. Should I punish you now?”
“No! I’m too mad.” I pout, pulling my wrists from his hands. “I won’t fulfill anymore of your fantasies if you make fun of me.”
He smiles. “Honey, you fulfill my fantasies every day just by being you.”
I chuckle nervously. “Sure.” But I’m touched, whether it’s true or not.
We stare at each other silently for a moment, giddy smiles plastered on our faces. In a bold move, I get my retribution by snaking my hand up his chest and pinching his nipple.
“Ow!” He grasps my hand to free his nipple. “You’re not a very good sub,” he teases.
“Maybe you’re not a good Dom,” I counter with a saucy grin.
“Probably.” Evil glittering in his eyes, he folds his arms around me, then yanks me down for a kiss. Our lips meet and he holds the back of my head as the kiss deepens. Not that I’m planning on leaving. The play of lips on lips, soft and hard, tongue and teeth, is a dance Nick has always done well. I snuggle closer, catch my breath when I can. My eyelids drift lower as I give in to the sensations. I sneak my hand onto his chest, palm flattened, and play with the hair above his shirt neckline. When he stops kissing me, I’m breathing hard and very conscious of his body beneath mine.
His gaze locks with mine. “So let’s just be us.”
I smile. Us. Nick and Sidney. Not vanilla. Not Rocky Road. Any kind of thirty-one flavors we want to be. I bite my lip and nod.
With both hands, he grasps my ass and squeezes. “Now let me tie you up so we can fuck and feel better.”
I laugh and shake my head. From Romeo to Jersey Shore in the span of a few seconds. “Typical. I should go next door and get the suave version of a husband.”
The amused glint in his eye gives me a millisecond warning. With a growl he rises and topples me sideways. “Get undressed. I’ll be back. With ropes.”