It's a nasty, dirty little word that gets bandied about. Between women and girls, between a woman and herself, her body, the culture around her, and often, her male counterparts in the school or work environment.
Well, I say ENOUGH is enough.
What a woman does or doesn't do with her own body is her damned business, and no one else's. Except, perhaps, her partner's. Let's be serious, folks, sex is great. Sex is amazing! If it's not, you might be doing something wrong... I'm just saying... But on the whole, sex is an expression of love and pleasure. Now I'm not saying you can't have sex without being in love, cause that's just silly. But you have to love yourself, love your body, and take pleasure in taking and giving pleasure. That's the way this whole sex thing works.
Except, somehow, we're all Eve. No matter what you do - if you're a woman in our society - you're the seducer. You're the evil influence. You're to slut. You aren't entitled to enjoyment and pleasure of the flesh. Because you're a woman.
Again, here, I call BULLSHIT.
There was this great video circulating about a month back that I loved. This is the opposite of slut-shaming and the walk of shame. This is taking pride in your stride. If you haven't seen the video, here's a link: http://www.funnyordie.com/videos/b03e988362/walk-of-no-shame-with-amber-rose?_cc=__d___&_ccid=fzjvi5.nvhucw
It's brilliant.
Now, onto this whole not being a slut thing. We've turned slut into a dirty word. But... what if it's not? What if it's okay to be a slut? What if it's great to be a slut? Not in a negative way. Not in a derogatory kind of way. But in a "yeah, I like sex, and I have a lot of it," kind of way??? Wouldn't that be nice?
There's this kind of recurring theme in most of my books about a woman embracing her sexuality, about flying in the face of the demure, virginal, construct that implies women only want to have sex to please their man, to keep him happy, and to procreate his children.
In my first novel, Layla Morgan is plagued by the idea that she's wild, wanton, and it's been a curse her entire life. Until she meets Tyler, and his sexual appetites coincide with her own. There are several other books that revisit this theme of a woman embracing her sexuality, about not being ashamed of her own body, or her needs. Of knowing what she wants and going after it, because she wants it, because she deserves it. She breaks free of this archaic idea that she has to be a proper lady. She realizes that her wild streak and her passion are two of the reasons that she is who she is. They are a part of her, and she embraces them. She even uses that passion and wildness to find her own bold voice and solve a murder case. In some of my most recent titles, this theme has come to light again.
In To Sir, Liz is dealing with the lingering issues of mental and emotional abuse as a child in a household of strict parents. She doesn't understand how her assertive, rebellious streak could coincide with a submissive side. She doesn't understand the difference between being forced to submit, and choosing to submit. Through this journey she goes on, she realizes there is freedom in submission, in letting Chase take care of her needs, in acknowledging what she wants and needs. She comes out of this journey realizing who she is a person, and how she can embrace love and submission and not feel one ounce of guilt about either one. 
My most recent release Belle By Night, goes back to this theme. Only this time, it's a bit on the other end of the spectrum. Anna (aka Annabelle) is a Domme, but she only plays one on the phone sex line. She's been burned in the bedroom before by a past lover who called her a freak for liking a little kink in her sex life. Obviously he wasn't man enough for her, but it leaves her gun-shy of embracing that dominant side of herself, about finding it acceptable, even wonderful, to engage that side of herself. She finds a new man, her special pet, and he not only tolerates her dominance, but revels in it. She spends a long time in the book grappling with this idea that love isn't for her, that she's a freak for wanting to issue orders and dish out a sprinkling of pain in the bedroom,that she's been burned one too many times by men who weren't alpha enough, brave enough, to stick by her side through thick and thin. Until she finds the most alpha of men in her pet submissive. 
I explore this theme in several of my other titles as well. Gingerbread Photography is about two bisexual men, one of whom has a hard time being openly affectionate with his male partner, who decide that their sweet photographer, Lexie, might be the answer to their prayers. This book explores not only a woman's sexuality and coming to terms with the idea of being a slut, but also delves into the idea of acceptable definitions of love and sex, and with Ben coming to terms with not only his relationship with Walker, but their new relationship with Lexie, and what that means for them. It is also a theme that crops up in my other titles, Queen of Hearts, An Engagement in Paris, and Spicy with a Side of Cranberry Sauce.
Vince slid his fingers into her hair and kissed her deeply. Then he lifted his head and grinned at the sated expression on her face and the sparkle in her eyes. He loved that he’d put that look there.
“You probably think I’m a huge slut now, don’t you?”
He laughed. Every time she opened her mouth, something unexpected came out. Was he surprised that she’d invited him back to her cabin tonight? Delightfully so. But if she believed it made him think less of her, she had this image of him in her head that wasn’t at all like the real him. “Do you?”
“I know I’m not a slut, so that doesn’t really matter.”
“I meant do you think I’m a slut. Or a man-ho, or whatever it’s called these days.” It saddened him that she might have built him up as an untouchable hero, the lady’s man movie star who bedded every woman he encountered.
“Of course not.”
He tried to hide his sigh of relief, but at her smile he knew he’d failed. “Well, okay then. Same answer here.”
She appeared pleased by his response. Worried he might be crushing her, he shifted. But she didn’t unwrap herself to let him slide away.
“I’m not a porcelain doll. You’re fine right where you are.” There was amusement and an edge of something darker in her voice.
“How did you know what I was thinking?”
She shrugged one bare shoulder, and he couldn’t help dipping his head to lick a bead of sweat sliding down her skin. She shivered, and he continued to kiss and lick her shoulder, neck, and collarbone. Slowly, she lowered her legs. He slipped free of her warmth.
Jaz pushed him until he flipped onto his back. “So, we both agree. We’re not sluts,” she said as she pulled off the condom.
He nodded.
She wrapped the condom in a tissue then dropped it in the wastebasket beside the bed before returning her adept fingers to his quickly reviving shaft. As she stroked him, he thickened, lengthening in her palm.
He encircled her wrist with his fingers and stilled her movements. “I’m out of condoms.” He’d only had one just in case condom in his wallet, damn it. He’d have to risk rushing her through the dark camp to his own cabin. Somewhere in his luggage there were more. He never went anywhere without them. It sucked to be unprepared when the unexpected happened.
She grinned. “I’m not.”
So, there you have it folks. Want to be a slut and have lots of amazing dirty sex?? Go for it. And enjoy every second of it!
~Rach
