One simple way of bringing the captured woman to your bed is as follows. She is not bound or carried. She is pulled by the hair to her feet and then she is walked to the bed, bent over, her hair held at your waist. This makes a woman feel very much in a man’s power. She is walked about the room a few times. Now her back and the back of her legs, and her hair, begin to hurt her somewhat. Also, she is humiliated, being led about as such a captive. Then, by the hair she is thrown across the bed.

Before we leave this particular fantasy, we might mention certain elaborations of it. These are variations on a theme.

Perhaps the female prowler in your room is a highly intelligent, sophisticated, sleek cat burglar, a debutante, the spoiled, beautiful daughter of a rich family, who steals for adventure. She gets more than she bargained for. She does not get your diamonds. Instead, you get her. She is stripped of her leotard or body suit and taken to your bed and raped. You are, of course, a handsome, wealthy, young bachelor, a connoisseur of wines, a collector of art, a yachtsman, a hunter, etc. Why not? You discover her identity, of course. That makes her capture more delicious. Further, she has in the past been rather haughty with you, treating you with a supercilious contempt. She is the sort of woman who had enjoyed putting men down. She had, we shall suppose, refused to speak with you; she had regarded herself as too good for you; she had refused all your advances, etc. She would never even give you a date. Now she is yours. In the morning, if you wish, you will turn her over to the police. On the other hand, let us suppose that you have the facilities to keep her, or that you have an island, a secret island, which you may reach with your yacht. You may then, if it pleases you, take her there, where she will serve you as a slave. Is she the only woman on the island, or does she find herself with others, similarly belonging to you? Fantasize with your delightful wife as you please. (I suspect she will wish to be the only wench on the island. Very well. Let us do it that way. You are now alone on your island, which is completely stocked, both for survival and love. On the sand she turns and faces you, tears in her eyes, her fists clenched, a thousand miles from anywhere, your beautiful captive. “What are you going to do with me?” she asks. You take her in your arms.)