Guest Blogger - Katherine Rhodes

Strong Women

by Katherine Rhodes

Take a moment to look at some men’s fantasies. You don’t need to go buy a skin magazine (*blush*)- just look around on the internet, carefully. Look at some old silly ‘men’s magazines’. Ask a guy. What you’re going to find in quite a few of these is a figure they’ll call the dominatrix: a woman with whips and crops and black stiletto knee boots. She’ll probably be photographed or drawn from a low angle. She might have her foot propped up on a man’s back. She’ll be wearing black leather and may even have her little pet on a leash.

That gent at the end of her leash is a submissive. A guy who likes to give up his control to a woman.

And surprise! Men dig that fantasy! So why can’t women? …or rather, why aren’t there more stories about women who also enjoy that fantasy?

Being the submissive is a great fantasy. It is a completely legitimate desire to want to a guy to take care of everything for you in the bed, and if you’re in the larger lifestyle, take care of all the big decisions. So why not dream the other half of that? Why don’t we see more women-centered Domme or Femdom stories? Aren’t we only showing half the story?

Submissive guys are hot. Double especially if they’re hot guys. Imagine one that only goes sub in the bedroom for their women. Outside that room, they are all male. Dress um up in a nice tailored suit, polish their shoes… Delish.

Oh, ahem. Sorry.

What’s good for the goose is good for the gander. The man is still ultimately in charge of the whole situation; they are the real power in a D/s relationship with a Domme. But, think about the amazing trust that must exist for a man to trust his woman to do what needs to be done. He gives up control to her. Completely. A man must truly know himself and his Domme to be able to do that. And that is hot.

I have to admit—I’m having way too much fun writing these stories. Most of them are going to have some strong  women who are looking for perfect, hot alpha male that doesn’t try to keep them down, but helps to boost them up.  You want to know why one of my favorite movies is “Ever After?” Because Danielle (Cinderella) has a father who loves her and teaches her everything, including how to survive, how to save herself, and how to inspire Henry to be more king than his father was. ‘Strong woman’ doesn’t mean she can kick your ass- it means she can save her own, deal with the emotional crap, get to work on time, and make sure the baby’s in bed by eight. All with her man helping her along.

The best kind of relationship: she doesn’t need you there, she wants you there.  And maybe if you’re lucky, she’ll want to tie you up… 

Katherine's Amazon Best Selling book Consensual and Broken Bonds are part of Beau Coup Publishing.

Here's an excerpt from Consensual:

“SHIT!” The thunderous crash of exploding glass had been followed by the indelicate swear, then followed again by a stream of curse words which made Nathaniel balk. That was a feat in and of itself after his four years in the Air Force, but what really surprised him was the melodious voice which gave rise to the profanity. He walked over to the door and opened it quietly, stepping out of his office. He couldn’t see anything, so he stepped out further to take a better look. To the right, just in front of his brother’s office was the most delicious looking backside he’d seen in a long time. Round, firm globes just begged to be fondled. He had to clench his fists to stem the impulse to reach out and touch. Bent over at the waist, he had a clear view of the top of her stockings and the garter clips holding them up. Even more enticing was the glimpse of smooth white, lickable flesh. Lust rose in Nathaniel, heating his blood.

The damsel was clearly in distress. He finally managed to pull his eyes away, backed up to where he couldn’t see the extremely sexy lingerie and cleared his throat. The woman stood up to look back at him as he re-approached the situation. Nathaniel prayed fervently in that second that this was not his brother’s new secretary because he had every intention of asking her out. She looked like a startled chipmunk, eyes wide and ready to bolt. Her hair was a true auburn no dye could ever imitate, with a creamy, lightly sun-kissed color to her face. Those wide eyes were hazel and bright, rimmed with luscious lashes and perfectly shaped eyebrows. While her lips weren’t plump, they were delicate and pink, slightly parted in shock. She slammed the name plate down on the desk to break the tension in the air. Nathaniel breathed a curse under his breath. Damn. Victor’s new secretary. And he’d forgotten about Jillian. Oh, hell. “Do you need some help?” he asked with a hint of amusement in his voice.

“I’m fine!” she snapped, and her voice was definitely the source of the melodic swearing. He walked over, holding up his hands in surrender, just in case she decided to lob the nameplate at him. “Let me help.” “I’m. Fine,” she repeated, this time kneeling down to gather up what was all over the floor. He could see large pieces of glass, probably a vase of some kind. He walked over and grabbed her hand to keep it away from the glass. She spun her hand out of his grip and then shoved him away hard enough for him to lose his balance. “I don’t need help.” Her unexpected move caught him totally off guard. He set back firmly on his ass. WTF? “Hey! I’m just trying to keep you from cutting your hands open.” He climbed to his feet and dusted off his pants and jacket. “Stand up. Stop groveling on the floor.” He held his hand out for her. “I don’t need help,” she said. “You’re right,” he said, stooping down and grabbing her elbow. “You need a janitor.” He hauled her to her feet. “Damn it, stop,” she said, turning around and looking at him.

She finally, really saw him. “Oh, my God. Mister Walsh, I’m so sorry. I didn’t realize—” “I just didn’t want to have to call an ambulance because you sliced your hand open,” he said. “Honestly, leave it. I’ll get a janitor.” “Did you hear me swearing?” she asked, her cheeks pinking up. “Yes.” He smirked. “I was impressed.” He looked down at the pieces of glass. “I hope it wasn’t anything of sentimental value.” “From my… uh, ex,” she said. “I liked it, but it wasn’t sentimental.” He turned the name plate so he could see it. Interesting, just her title and last name. “Well, Ms. Westerly, you’re here awfully early for your first day.” “I wanted to get my desk set up,” she said, then added an oddly hesitant “Sir”. “You’re on the executive floor,” he said. “And in this company, we’re not big on formal protocol. Please, I’m Nathaniel.”

“Emmy,” she said, sticking her hand out. “Emmy,” he repeated, shaking her smooth, soft hand. She had a firm, no-nonsense grip for such a feminine woman. “Pleasure to meet you.” “I didn’t hurt you when I shoved you, did I?” “Just my pride,” he teased. “Sorry.”   She grimaced. “Nah, it’s all right.” He grinned. “Everyone needs a little humiliation.” Her skin instantly flamed red, and she looked away, clearing her throat. “Well, I don’t need to keep you from your work, Mis— Nathaniel. I just wanted to get my desk set up before Mister Walsh—” “Victor,” he said. “… Victor arrived for the day.” Nathaniel nodded his head. Idiot. “Victor clearly forgot his own schedule. He’s due to fly out to Germany today at noon for a conference in Munich.” Emmy was clearly appalled and embarrassed. Nathaniel sighed. “And that’s why Vic the Dingbat needs you, madam. Go on, set up your desk. My admin Gwen has been covering while he did the search for you, and I’m sure she’ll have work to hand off to you.” “When will M— Victor be back?” “Late Thursday,” Nathaniel said. “And I’m sure he’ll need you on Friday to get his scattered-brained-ass back together.” He smiled. “I can say that, he’s my brother.” Emmy laughed. It was a pleasant, high sweet sound which echoed through the hallway and unexpectedly made his cock jerk. “Are you always early, Nathaniel?” “Not always. I have a conference in Boston next week, and I have a lot I want to get done before then. If you’ll excuse me, I’ll leave Gwen an email and we can work everything out. I’ve got paperwork to attend to. I’ll get the janitor up here, too.” “Of course,” she said. “Thank you.” “My pleasure.” He walked back to his office to leave her alone. He couldn’t say he wasn’t tempted to peer around the corner and watch her again. Damn it, Victor. This isn’t fair. She’s a sexy woman and you won’t even be able to appreciate her. He sat at his desk, fantasizing about how he’d love to prop her foot on his chest and ease those silk stockings down her luscious legs, then kiss a path all the way… shit! What the hell! Where was this coming from? He never acted like this. He had work to do! And Emmy had her work cut out for her. Victor’s desk and office was a disaster, and how was Victor so disorganized anyway? His older brother had a degree in business planning, but he couldn’t keep a desk calendar? He straightened out the papers on his desk from where he’d tossed them and went back to work. Or at least he tried. The image of Emmy’s thigh-highs haunted him the entire day. He managed to push them out of his mind eventually. Eventually being late Wednesday afternoon when the office exploded into action from a complete disaster. A train full of products— organic corn seed and seed potatoes for several heirloom farms— was derailed just outside the yard. Not only had several cars spilled, but there were several more trains scheduled to leave in just hours. Gwen went flying out the door with her camera phone to the yard and took pictures to assess the damage. Tank and Henry went into emergency mode, checking routes for the chance to get the other trains out of the yard. And to Nathaniel’s relief, Emmy adroitly handled all the calls, reroutes and messages for him, Victor, Tank, Henry and Cecelia, who had immediately started looking for replacements for the lost seeds. An interoffice chat popped up. Emmy W.: Gwen has all the pictures uploaded to the server. Nathaniel opened the server connection and found the pictures. It was much worse than he thought. The eight cars they had lost were a twisted mess and there was no saving those, never mind the contents. But it was clear they had lost cars on either side of the derailment. At least two in front and possibly as many as four in the back. He slammed his fist down. The phone was ringing, but he ignored it. He continued flipping through the pictures, becoming more and more disgruntled. All that product, all over the ground, useless and ruined. Now the farmers might not get their crops in on time.

They’d have to refund the lost portions, or find another supplier, but this late in the season locating another supplier probably wasn’t going to happen. He really didn’t want to lose the heirlooms. The computer dinged with a new message. Emmy W.: Gwen on line three, important. Nathaniel W.: Just tell her the pictures are there. I’ll call her in a few. He needed to pay attention to the situation. This wasn’t something he wanted to rush through. He had a lot of other things he had to line up and deal with before he could bother confirming pictures. He had to make a list of suppliers who might still have stock and see if they would be able to negotiate prices down. This late in the season only the lowest quality would be left and— The door slammed open. “Mister Walsh, line three. Now.” She startled the shit out of him. So much so, the receiver was nearly at his ear before he even realized he’d moved his hand. He was so astonished at the tone and command coming out of Emmy’s mouth, he was barely able to acknowledge Gwen on the phone. “Nathaniel!” Gwen snapped through the phone. “What?” He shook his head and cleared his mind. “Gwen, yes. What’s going on?” “It’s bad,” she said. “They just found one of the yardmen under the corn.” His heart leapt into his throat. “How bad?” “He’s dead, sir,” Gwen said. “He suffocated.” A sick feeling slammed Nathaniel in his gut. The handset fell out of his hand and he stared at Emmy still standing in the door. She had a sad, apologetic look on her face. Nathaniel ran a hand through his hair, nodding at her. She pulled the door closed. He then picked up the phone and looked at the pictures. “Wasn’t the train out of the yard, Gwen?” “No, sir,” she replied. He heard her walk a few feet away from wherever she was. “No, Nathaniel. It wasn’t. From what I’ve seen here, there’s more going on than I care to say over the phone. There are some pictures you need to see. You and Vic are not going to like this.”

Get the rest of the story from the book Consensual by Katerine Rhodes from Beau Coup Publishing on Amazon http://amzn.to/18Z7w3M