Being A Dom Novels & Stories

“Great, so where do we begin?” There are only two others in the class, another Dom and a Domme. I’ve only seen two females come through here, training to be a Domme, so it’s interesting to watch when they train both female and male subs. I think they are a bit crueler than a Dom, but also more caring, if that makes sense at all. The one in this class goes by the name Mistress Skye, but she is also a Mommy Domme, meaning that she likes her submissive to act like a little kid, called a Little. That’s not for me at all. Ella can call me Daddy all she wants, but I want my sub to act like her real age. To each their own, I guess.

"I can handle anything you bring at me Mr GreenEyes!" That only angers him more. "I don't think so. Even with a broken arm, I'm one of the strongest men in our team!" I know this tactic. He's trying to distract me from the task at hand, so he can defeat me. "Oh? What team?" I ask sarcastically. Smirking, thinking he's managed it, he continues. "We are a Dom company. We collect dominants and train them, and find them submissive souls to use and abuse. We know what you do, and one of our clients wants you, and only you."

I need answers. "I see you are curious. Let us begin on a proper note. I am Dwayne, the Alpha of the Redclaw pack. This is my territory and everything in here belongs to me," he says with a proud smile. Alpha? Pack? What on earth is he talking about? I have ever heard of these things ofcourse, but it was just in stories. There can't be real life werewolves, can they? Is that what he meant by me being Jace's mate?

Dom warned with a cold glare and smirk. “Was he a mechanic?” “He was a damned good mechanic. For our profession.” Dom added the last part with a grin. “Did he know about Donna Leigh?” “He knew about her addiction issues and her craziness. He didn’t know about the abuse.” “She remembered going and playing dress up-” “They’re dead.” She said pulling out one of her knives and began cleaning out underneath her nails as if she was bored.

It was the oldest law in their world, and even Derick wouldn’t risk breaking it, not unless he wanted a war. If Bryce could get to another master, someone stronger than Derick, he might just live to see another sunrise. Only one name came to mind. Dom. The strongest. The one even Derick was said to give space to. Bryce had never met him, but he’d heard the whispers. He remembered his mother’s voice, low and tense, speaking of Dom as if saying his name too loudly might draw his attention. Dangerous, she’d said. Ruthless. The family he ruled could shake governments.

It wanted to show her exactly what 'Mate' word meant in the werewolf world. Anger was bubbling in every vein inside Christian's body. With his werewolf strength came impulse and anger. Those were his weaknesses & because he was an alpha, with all the extra strength came extended weaknesses. In that moment he wanted to give her a very live demonstration of what the 'claiming' word meant but he had to control himself. He knew she was not a werewolf. She was just a fucking, weak human. And to a human, the ways of a werewolf's lifestyle was a completely alien concept.

He was quiet for a moment, thinking, but it felt like an eternity. Did he think I was stupid? Did he think I was weak? Had I crossed a line? When he finally spoke, the corner of his lips curved into a small smile. “It doesn’t make them weak. It just gives them a measure of control over their dom and also a choice to trust their dominant.” “Do you really enjoy doing this?” I asked. “Are you asking why I enjoy being a dom?” I nodded. Even as his brows lowered, I wasn’t sure if I had asked a good question, but I remembered he had told me never to be embarrassed about it.

' I asked curiously. He took the book from me and explained. 'The Dom or the Dominant is the person whether male/female, who takes control and gives commands in a BDSM relationship or scene. In our relationship, I am the Dom and people like me are typically the ones who initiate and guide the activities, setting boundaries and ensuring the submissive's safety and consent.

“I can't seem to recognize you.'' I responded, still staring at him. He flickered a big smile before speaking up, “I'm a DOM in the club.'' He announced with a smile. “A DOM?'' I asked again so that I would be sure I heard him right. “Yes, but we haven't really talked. Actually, I traveled and just came back to the country.'' He said with a friendly smile, which I returned. So many Doms were showing their faces to me and even confessing their identities to me, apart from DOM Tim, who was the only person keeping his identity away from me. “Nice meeting you.'' I brought forth my hand to him for a handshake, but he took it and placed gentle kisses on them.

I really felt she needed a therapist, and I told her so, but she wouldn't listen. Micahel Campo, her Dom was seated in a chair with a drink in his hand. If you described the two of us, we would sound very similar. He was tall and muscular with dark hair and eyes. But that is where the similarities end. I like to think I'm a nice guy. Michael is not. He's a very bad guy and, I suspect, a sadist. He can only go so far inside the walls of the club. I'm kind of surprised he bothers to come here, but I suspect it's mostly to find new victims, I mean submissive's. Most subs have contracts that lay out what they will and will not do, but that doesn't mean a Dom can't or won't go too far. I think Mi