When I was last here, (April 6 to be exact), I chatted about my linked erotica titles, His Purchase and His Filly, before turning to what still consumes most of us—Coronavirus or whatever name you call it by. I mentioned that my son’s cancer surgery had been canceled at the last moment. We had no idea when it could be rescheduled. Well, two weeks ago he got The Call and a week ago today he underwent 7 hours of surgery. The operation took place in a major hospital five hours from where we live. Pulling rank, he and his brother insisted that Mom stay home and said brother would take, stay there, and retrieve him. (They actually spouted some nonsense about my ‘advanced’ age putting me in a high-risk category.)
I’m hugely relieved to report that the patient is home and recovering. (We live together.) We went to the local wound center yesterday where the nurse practitioner said the surgeon’s work was the best she’s ever seen. No infection. Wounds from laparoscopic surgery healing. He still has a long road ahead of him, but something happened to me on the way home I want to share.
For the first time since the diagnosis a year ago February, I truly want to write. I need to! I’ve pounded out words to meet contracts and because that’s what I do, but my heart and concentration hadn’t been in it. Now the damnable tumor is gone from the body of one of the two most important people in my life! (Of course, his brother is the other.)
I’d wondered and half-believed the drive, the need to create, that has always been a vital part of me was gone. I’d never get it back. That writing came in such a poor second to the risk to my son’s life that my career longer mattered. But it was there all this time, waiting for my mind and heart to unlock.
I’m more than halfway through my latest story. Diving back into it today will be a celebration. I want to share that celebration with readers. This is what I’ve come up with. If spanking stories are your thing and you’re one of the first five readers to contact me at VonnaWriter@gmail.com and mention you saw this on Deliah’s blog, I’d love to send you a free copy of either His Purchase or His Filly. No strings attached but if you leave reviews on Amazon and are so inclined, that would be wonderful.
To give you an idea what you’d be getting, here are a couple of Amazon links plus cover images.
Vonna Harper isn’t the real me. I created her to hide behind.
Vonna is a sexually liberated writer of many erotica and erotic titles who gives her imagination free rein while the real me writes much tamer stuff. For a long time I tried to keep the two separate, but today it doesn’t matter. Vonna’s creator needs to come out of the shadows and share something deeply personal about coronavirus’s impact on our family.
I suspect everyone who reads this has been touched by the pandemic in some way. Here’s my story. A little over a year ago the adult son I live with was diagnosed with stage three colon cancer. We (yes, both of us) have been through a year plus of hell highlighted by chemo, radiation, heart damage, two infections, three trips to the ER, countless blood tests, and countless sleepless nights.
He was scheduled to have the tumor cut out on March 26. We live over four hours away from the big city cancer center where the surgery would take place. He and his brother, my other son, insisted that Mom not subject her ancient immune system to what we acknowledge is a greater risk of catching the virus. My other son, an educator (what he’s going through is a story of its own), insisted on going with his brother and staying for the approximately five days he’d be hospitalized. I stayed home with the dogs and my thoughts.
The morning of the trip (the day before the surgery) my sons had just gotten on the road when the surgeon called to inform us that the operation was still a go and she was fighting to keep it on the schedule.
Four hours later as they exited the freeway, a second call came. Surgery had been canceled. No rescheduling until the hospital is no longer full of coronavirus patients and dedicated medical professionals.
My sons came home. We wait.
As almost an aside, I promise my erotica is a different experience from what you just read. For proof, I offer a couple of recent titles that include spanking scenes. His Purchase and His Filly take place in The Society which is made up of Elites and Others. In other words, dominants and submissives.
Alia is an Other, a woman with secrets and few rights in a dark world controlled by The Society.
Kade is an Elite, a wealthy, powerful man who knows how to get the ultimate performance from Alia. Whatever it takes, he will bring his sexy, strong-headed acquisition into line.
When she defies him, Kade repeatedly applies his large hand to her bare bottom until it burns and she’s reduced to tears. Until she can’t fight her erotic reaction.
The next time she defies him, she refuses to explain why. He commands her to strip naked and submit to another harsh spanking. As if that isn’t enough, she has no choice but to let him place a butt plug inside her.
Alia wants to hate Kade for doing these shameful things to her, but his firm handling arouses her in ways she can’t deny or resist.
It will take all her resolve not to admit her deepest secret to this man who owns her.
Kali has no choice but to work for Boden, a wealthy, powerful Elite. As a vulnerable Other in a dark world of control and controlled, Kali knows her submissive position within the Society. But her vow to do everything she can to protect his valuable racehorses puts her on a collision course with the man who in essence owns her.
Boden decides to discipline the lovely, headstrong young woman via a hard bare bottom spanking. To her shock, she’s deeply aroused. She can’t hide her erotic response which he uses to his advantage.
The lessons continue to take place. Boden doesn’t hesitate to order her to pull down her pants and expose her vulnerable, naked ass. She shudders with every blow then moans when his all-knowing hands slide between her legs. She can’t stop him, can only submit.
No doubt we all remember our ‘first time’, the night or day or whatever when we lost our virginity, but what about when we first became aware of ourselves as sexual creatures? I’m not sure why that question recently occurred to me, but I have the answer.
I was a pre-adolescent, playing with my collection of plastic horses, cowboys, and Indians (yes, I’m that old) pretending my plastic human had caught a wild horse and was trying out various ways to restrain the horse. I tied up a leg, roped two legs together, placed a rope around its neck and tied the poor creature to a plastic section of fence. As I studied the mare or stud I became aware of a tingling sensation between my legs. After looking around to make sure no one was watching, I started rubbing myself there. The tingling increased, became more and more pleasurable. For as long as I remained interested in plastic horses and humans, I continued to encourage the feelings I didn’t understand. Of course I explored other ways of arousing the sensations, but ropes often factored in.
Fast forward about a million years and capture/bondage fantasies still turn me on. I’ve written other kinds of erotica but the majority revolve around some kind of restraint. My publisher Stormy Nights specializes in spanking stories. Even though spanking as a turn on puzzles me somewhat, I’m having a great time using that umbrella to engage my characters in sexual worlds. My heroines find themselves restrained while my heroes focus on enhancing the experience. Equality be damned in this fictional world. It’s all about power vs. helplessness.
I took that dynamic with me while writing my latest release Mastering His Pet. Here’s part of the first spanking scene. To explain, Tanner is a powerful Elite in a world I call The Society while Carra is a lowly Other. No question who’s in charge…
Mastering His Pet
“You want to run,” he said. “You’re like a wild animal that has spotted a trap and is trying to decide what to do.”
He hadn’t asked a question, which she took as proof he knew her much better than he should have. She had to be careful around him, not reveal too much, not show weakness.
“Maybe you’re wondering whether you can outrun me so I’ll answer. Despite my size, I’m fast on my feet.” He paused. “Call it one more weapon in my survival arsenal. If you let instinct get the best of you, I’ll overtake you. Once I catch you things will get even worse than they’re about to become. For one, I’ll make sure you stay where I decide you belong.”
He was still making statements, maybe not interested in hearing anything from her. Feeling as if she’d fallen into a place and space she hadn’t known existed, she kept her attention locked on him.
“I will correct your behavior. Make sure you never forget this vital lesson.”
It took everything she had in her not to assure him she understood, but she didn’t dare completely give into him. If she did he might take everything from her.
“Unfasten your shorts. Pull them down to your knees. Do the same to your panties, if you’re wearing any.”
“I am.” What did he think? That she dressed so she was always ready to fuck? She’d heard enough about military life to know some women hung around the troops. Most were whores looking to make enough to keep themselves fed, clothed, and sheltered. Her understanding was they made more money with their legs spread than they could otherwise.
Nothing could ever make her do that. Could it?
With a start she realized she’d let her mind drift. Somewhere between embarrassment and curiosity, she did as he’d ordered. She was going to be spanked, no way out of it.
Feeling if she’d separated from her body, she straightened. Her sleeveless top was so long it reached her navel, not that she could take comfort in the pitiful protection. She’d exposed her belly, pelvis area, and upper legs. Mostly her bare ass was there, ready for his hand.
“You should have worn long pants. You’ve got scratches, red marks, and indentations on your knees and shins from kneeling on the roof. Not a smart move on your part.”
He leaned back with his arms crossed, looking slightly bored. Maybe he’d spanked so many women he saw the task as nothing more than a chore. In contrast, she couldn’t think beyond the next few minutes.
“You know what you’re supposed to do. Get into place.”
She was just out of his reach, which meant she still had time to bolt, to—no, she couldn’t. Not sure what she was feeling, she positioned herself close to his legs and carefully lowered herself onto his lap. Her bare skin touched a single layer of denim, trapping heat between them. Her belly rested on thighs that felt as if they’d been carved from stone. Most concerning, the sensitive area between her belly and legs pressed against him. It felt good. Wonderful in fact.
Dizzy from having her head low, she ran her fingers over the rough ground. She closed her eyes, held her breath. This wasn’t happening but it was.
“You don’t have any marks here,” he said, his fingers light on her ass. “Considering your behavior, my cousins never corrected you?”
“No.” Her voice was muffled.
“You better not be lying. It’ll only get worse if you are.”
He’d threatened her. She should take it to heart, but how could she when his hand now rested on her backside as if he had every right, which he did.
“I’m telling you the truth.”
“I’ll make that determination. You have an exquisite ass.” He rubbed it. Her head spun and her pussy tightened and twitched. “Knowing my cousins as I do, I’m well-aware of their mindset where women are concerned. Don’t try to tell me you don’t know what I’m talking about.”
“That isn’t enough.” The pressure increased, not painful but impossible to ignore. Arousing. “Tell me, in detail, what takes place during their parties in the rooms without windows and with sound-deadening capabilities.”
“I’ve never been part of it.”
“They’ve never required your presence?”
“If that’s the truth it constitutes a serious lack of judgment on their parts. An ass as delectable as this one should be put to use.”
“I’m more than an ass! You have no right saying—”
“Whether I do or don’t isn’t the issue. Might always wins.”
She was still processing his declaration when he slapped her. She jerked. A second blow immediately followed the first. Eyes squeezed closed, she tried to ready herself. Instead of continuing, he left her draped over him. He wasn’t done. She was sure of it.
“Do it!” She clamped a hand over her mouth then let her arm dangle again. What did staying quiet matter? She’d already angered him. “Get it over with.”
“All in good time, or should I say in my time. One way or the other you’re going to learn who is in charge.”
You are. If at all possible she’d keep from admitting that.
Her ass stung from the two sharp blows, the sensation sliding throughout her backside and going deep. She opened her eyes in an attempt to stop thinking about her pussy’s reaction. Weeds covered nearly every inch of the dirt she was looking at.
“Your life’s important.” He struck her a third time, this blow even more intense. “I will not have you treating it lightly. Being careless. If I have to keep you under control to keep you alive I’ll do it.”
He closed his hands around her neck. “Restrained. Collared.”
Freud, if he hadn’t been so hung up on his belief that only damaged people fantasize, might have tried to understand dom/submissive dynamics. Looks like he left that up to me and other like-minded writers. My most recent releases, Mastering His Pet, Predator’s Pet, His Purchase and His Filly are all spanking stories, but my erotica has covered everything from spanking to shape-shifting, from primitive tribes to science fiction. I honestly don’t know how many sexy stories I’ve had published. It’d probably scare me if I tried to count them. I also write tamer stuff under another name and try to keep the two far, far apart. My free time is spent as a servant to two rescue dogs, hanging out with family and mostly writer friends, and, sadly, selling the family’s mountain cabin. The less I say about this year’s garden the better.
I recently published two linked erotic romances with spanking themes. My original plan had been to go through a publisher I’ve worked with before, but staff felt the setting would be a hard sell and asked me to do a major rewrite. Instead, I self-published His Purchase and another I’ll talk about later.
The heroine of His Purchase is a professional softball player with a load of emotional baggage. I’d given her that career because as the mother of two sports-loving sons, I logged a lot of time at baseball fields. No research necessary. Besides, I love baseball.
After exchanging emails with the above mentioned publisher, I couldn’t help but wonder if I’m in the minority when it comes to loving both erotic romance and baseball or softball. I’m guessing the reaction would be different if my hero was a football player or rodeo rider, part of the macho mystique, but I made my heroine the jock in a male dominated sport.
Is that a no-no? Are romance readers turned off by female jocks especially one involved with a sport traditionally considered male? Although I understand why that publisher needs to keep a close eye on the bottom line and might have made the same decision if I was in her shoes, I’m hoping readers are open to more than traditional roles for the sexes.
As I mentioned, His Purchase is a spanking story. In other words, it falls under the power exchange umbrella. Because of the fictional world I created, my dominant male hero fully believes he has the right and responsibility to physically discipline the submissive heroine. Despite her physical skills, she accepts that she will be disciplined if the man in charge decides she needs correction—which he does more than once.
I was fascinated by how my characters handled her untraditional career while living in a society that condones and encourages spanking females. I think they pulled it off but it’s up to readers to agree or disagree.
Alia is an Other, just another woman with few rights living in a world controlled by Society rules. At least her considerable athletic skill will save her from a life of drudgery. She knows her rare physical talent will be exploited but considers it an acceptable tradeoff for being able to do what she most loves in life. In addition, she’ll have a roof over her head, food in her belly, and hopefully an end to feeling like a failure.
Kade is an Elite, a wealthy and powerful man who has never questioned his privileged place within the Society. As the new owner of a professional women’s softball team, he’s determined to get the ultimate performance from his players. Never one to turn down a challenge, he knows how to bring his sexy but strong-headed latest acquisition into line.
Despite the team owner’s domineering presence, Alia has no intention of bowing to the commanding man’s insistence she keep nothing from him. She’ll perform to the best of her ability. What she doesn’t dare do is let him inside her head and heart where vulnerability lies.
Kade refuses to accept her resistance. He purchased, not just her talent but everything about her. She doesn’t yet know how far his control reaches, but he will teach her. Her correction begins the first day with a firm hand repeatedly applied to her backside. He spanks her bare bottom until it turns red then insists she display what he’s done. When she continues to defy him, he takes her in hand again, this time adding a butt plug. Despite her shame, she’s turned on. Changed. Desperate for more than just his finger or toys in her.
Everything changes for Alia. She spends her nights in a locked barn stall with the other players, must wait to use the bathroom, eats what’s put before her. She wants to hate the man who has done this to her, but there’s magic in his firm hand. He knows how to arouse her. Maybe he even cares about her.
It doesn’t matter because she’ll never trust him with her deepest secret. If keeping something so private from him displeases him, she believes she has no choice but to live with the consequences.
His Purchase includes spankings and intense sexual scenes. If you’re uncomfortable with such material, please don’t buy this book.