By Alexa Day
I love this year’s line of Jaguar commercials. The ones that reassure us that Brits make the best villains. I think they started during this year’s Super Bowl. I remember watching Mark Strong driving that gorgeous F coupe around. Between his sinfully sexy voice and the delicious growl of the engine, I’d have bought whatever the television told me to. It’s probably best that the base model F coupe costs $65,000, or I’d be living in it now.
I lost sight of the ads for a while, until I heard bits of breathless praise for one featuring Tom Hiddleston. Tom doesn’t do anything for me. I’m sure he’s a lovely person; I just don’t find him attractive. As a result, I didn’t pay loads of attention to what people were saying.
Tom Hiddleston … something something … Jaguar … something … bag in the trunk … something … what’s in the bag?
Here’s how it really goes.
When I finally watched it, my first thought was that the bag was too small. I had envisioned a large bag, made of silky black fabric, with a sleek length of rope to fasten the top.
You know, something big enough for me.
I’m not saying that I fantasize about being dropped into the Jaguar’s luxuriant trunk by Tom Hiddleston. I’m not attracted to Tom. If Mark Strong wanted me in the trunk of the F coupe, however, he wouldn’t even need the bag. I’m not just going to hop in because he says to, mostly because I enjoy listening to him talk. But I would offer him only token resistance. I might bite his hand just to see what sort of sound he made, but my plan is to end up in the trunk like a good girl.
The abduction fantasy has been one of my favorites for many years, at least since high school. I’ve long indulged thoughts of being carried off by strong, powerful men who needed me for something they knew I would not surrender willingly. The fantasy’s politically incorrect surface discourages most people from examining it further. I think people struggle to understand that it has no correlation to actual abduction, and I think they struggle with this more than they do with a lot of other sexual fantasies. Because I enjoy the abduction fantasy and its permutations so much, though, I don’t mind studying it from time to time. Themes of power, surrender, control of self and control of others pop up in my writing fairly often. I just think that sort of thing is hot, and I like experimenting with all those boundaries.
The abduction fantasy wears many faces. I maintain a mental shortlist with a rotating cast of fantasy kidnappers. (And they are all mine. Not sharing them.) Some of them are good-looking sophisticates, guys like Mark, who want something I have. A state secret. Launch codes. Passwords. Knowledge of arcane languages. They’re endlessly patient and wonderfully seductive, and this flavor of fantasy is more about power than about sex. I mean, until I give up the launch codes or whatever, the plot for world domination is at a standstill, right? I’ll get to see just what this person will do to get what he wants from me. That’s a nice train of thought.
And sometimes I’m dealing with a rough character with baser interests. These guys look more like Jason Statham, accustomed to the use of force. They might deliver me to someone who wants the launch codes, but along the way, any number of inappropriate things might happen. This one’s about power, too, but not in the same way. It’s about being desirable enough to erode a man’s self-control. It’s about driving a man beyond regard for consequences. In a world where successful single women still hear that men are “too intimidated” to approach them, the rougher abduction fantasy, starring men who are not at all afraid of women, will always have a place.
I’m so tempted at this point to get into the family of fantasies featuring us women as the abductors of men. If you’re following my author page on Facebook, you’ve already seen occasional pictures of hot shirtless dudes tied to beds, showerheads and the like. I think that sort of thing is stimulating. But it is perhaps another story for another day.
For now, I’m going back into the trunk of the imaginary F coupe. I’m going to look at the trunk release handle — because a $65,000 car certainly has one — and I’m going to wonder just what Mark Strong is going to ask me for and whether I’m inclined to give it to him today.
As for you, get your own F coupe! Preorder your copy of The Lady Smut Book of Dark Desires for more hotness.
And follow Lady Smut if you know what’s good for you.