Destined to Dominate

by Red Phoenix

  I stand and glance up at him briefly.

  Master Anderson’s dark hair contrasts well with his green eyes. He has a classic, model-like face and a deep, sexy voice that makes you weak inside.

  “Undress for me,” he orders.

  Unlike Baron, Master Anderson doesn’t waster time transitioning me into this new dynamic. I gaze at him as I was instructed to do at the Training Center while I take my clothes off. Every movement is meant to entice as I slowly and sensually reveal my body to him.

  “Good girl,” he growls when I am done. “Which would you like to start with, the toilets or the dishes?”

  I stare at him in shock. Seeing a slight smirk move across his lips, I break out in giggles.

  “Had ya, didn’t I?”

  “You did! You had me wondering if one of your kinks was having naked subs do your housecleaning.”

  He swipes his hair back, laughing. “I could definitely get used to that.”

  Master Anderson directs me into a formal dining room and tells me to sit. I can smell the delicious odor of baking bread coming from his kitchen.

  “I like something light before an intense session,” he states before heading into the kitchen.

  I sit there alone, the nerves creeping in, wondering what he means by an “intense session”.

  Master Anderson returns with bowls of tomato bisque and a basket of fresh rolls. He pours us each a tall glass of water, adding, “It’s important to keep hydrated.”

  Sitting down next to me, he smiles. “Dig in.”

  I can’t resist the rolls and grab one, pulling off a piece and eating it. I close my eyes, enjoying the yeasty taste of his warm rolls. “These are incredible.”

  “My mother’s recipe.”

  “She must be quite a cook.”

  “My mama did an exceptional job keeping all of us well fed and happy growing up.”

  “My dad’s the cook in our family, but my mom specializes in desserts.”

  “How about you?”

  “I like cooking well enough, but I’ve never made a soup as good as this.”

  “It’s easy. Just takes the right ingredients.”

  We both eat in comfortable silence for several minutes, but curiosity leads me to ask, “So about the rules at the Center…”

  He chuckles, taking a sip of his soup before answering. “If you are talking about that rule pertaining to trainers not collaring students or alumni, that is set in stone and cannot be changed.”

  “Then why did you agree to this?”

  “Should you and I prove highly compatible, I have no problem leaving the Center just as Thane Davis did. However, my plan would be to start up my own Training Center in Denver. As the boss, I’d get to make the rules,” Master Anderson says with a charming grin.

  I return his smile. “Captain did mention you were a good businessman.”

  “I do like a worthy challenge. Captain told me you’re planning to take marketing classes this summer.”

  “I am, and I can’t wait to get back to it.”

  “See? We’d make a good team. I’ll run the business and you market the hell out of it for me.”

  I giggle, taking another sip of that delicious bisque. I now have a better idea why Captain thought we’d be a good match. It’s not just a Dom he’s looking for, but a man with a stable future.

  Master Anderson sets down his spoon and folds his arms. “So, after we’re done here, I thought we’d start out with a quick session of my bullwhip.” His eyes flash with excitement when he adds, “I want you to feel her bite. Then, we’ll follow up with a little fire play and see where it leads from there.”

  My spoon stops midway to my mouth.

  “If you’re agreeable,” he adds.

  “I…” I’m already contemplating using my safeword.

  “You do realize I’m kidding.”

  I let out the breath I’m holding and start to laugh. “I had no idea how funny you were. You always seemed so serious at the Training Center.”

  “If you only knew the shenanigans that go on behind the scenes with the other trainers…” he chuckles.

  I take another bite of my roll, seeing Master Anderson in a whole different light.

  “The truth is, as much as I would enjoy introducing you to my bullwhip, I know you prefer sensation play. Therefore, we’ll start from there and see how far you want to go tonight.”

  “Thank you…Master.”

  He winks at me. Over the course of the meal, we end up discussing world events. I’m impressed by his vast body of knowledge, but what I find even more impressive is the fact that he’s not arrogant about it. He makes our conversation both easy and entertaining even though my contribution is limited.

  “So, it turns out there is a serious side to you,” I comment after the meal.

  “Oh, yes. I’m a complicated beast,” he replies, picking up the dishes. “And you are about to meet another side of me altogether, darlin’.”

  I feel the butterflies start up again.

  When Master Anderson returns, I definitely notice a difference. Gone is the easygoing cowboy and, in his place, is the powerful Dominant I’ve come to know at the Center.

  The submissive in me instantly responds when he commands, “Follow me.”

  I walk behind him, feeling the excitement build as he leads me down a narrow hallway to the back of the house. He unlocks a door at the end, but before he’ll let me enter, he says, “Because of your past experience with Liege, I want to emphasize the importance of your safewords tonight. What are they again?”

  “Green if I’m feeling good, yellow for slow down, and red if I need you to stop.”

  “Excellent.” He ushers me inside and I am greeted by a room lit with candles. The glow gives it a decidedly romantic feel, contrasting well with the wall covered in BDSM tools on the right. My eyes are immediately drawn to Master Anderson’s bullwhip hanging in the very center of the wall, and I shiver.

  “There will be no intercourse tonight,” he informs me. “I want to determine if you are compatible as my submissive first.”

  Although I’ve scened with Master Anderson as my trainer during practicums, I’ve never gotten up close and personal with his large “asset”. With our obvious difference in physique, I have often wondered how much my body could take of that impressive cock, so having that off the table tonight—so to speak—allows me to concentrate solely on the power exchange.

  “Lie on the table, slave,” he commands.

  It’s so different being here in Master Anderson’s private playroom as his submissive rather than his student at the Center, and I’m surprised to find myself suddenly feeling shy around him.

  “Yes, Master,” I answer, walking to the table in the middle of the room. Master Anderson’s brand of dominance is definitely more forceful that either Captain’s or Baron’s, and I tremble a little as I climb up onto the table to lie down on it.

  “Let me look at you, slave. Hands at your sides, legs spread.”

  Master Anderson runs his hand over my naked skin with an admiring gaze, as he explores my body with his light caresses. He then spends a few moments playing with my breasts, rolling my hard nipples between his fingers.

  He walks over to the wall and lifts a pink chain with a nipple clamp on each end from a hook. He walks back to me and places it on the table next to my shoulders—but says nothing.

  Master Anderson caresses my body again, but this time he concentrates his attention on my pussy. To my frustration, he leaves again, heading to a chest of drawer. Pulling out a razor and shaving cream, he returns to me with a smile as he places them on the table near my pelvis.

  I now understand he’s letting me know his intentions while he spontaneously decides what the night’s festivities will involve.

  His hands return to my skin, and I close my eyes as he trails his fingers down my throat. His light touch is causing delightful goosebumps.

  I open my eye when I feel him leaning forward, just before our li
ps connect.

  Kissing my former trainer adds a wicked element to this power exchange and I moan softly when his tongue enters my mouth.

  Looking into his green eyes, I’m drawn in by the sheer power of his dominance and whisper, “Master…”

  He growls under his breath, kissing me with greater passion before leaving me again. This time he chooses a short leather strap from the wall and places it on the table next to my head. I have no idea what he plans to do with the strap, but the placement of it leaves me curious and trembling in anticipation.

  Master Anderson positions himself in my line of sight and slowly pulls his black t-shirt over his head. The cut muscles of his chest and abs are a thing to behold, and I grin in appreciation. He raises an eyebrow as he slowly unbuttons his jeans, exposing the fact that he is not wearing any underwear.

  I cannot help but stare at his massive cock. It is an impressive sight, and I instinctively lick my lips.

  Knowing he has my full attention, Master Anderson moves up to the head of the table. “First, the restraint.”

  He takes the leather strap and places it across my neck, securing it in place with fasteners in the table. “Enough pressure to make you feel helpless,” he states.

  My heart skips a beat. It’s tight enough that I cannot move my head from side to side and am left staring up at the ceiling—vulnerable and helpless, just like he said. It’s an aspect of bondage that I like.

  “Color?” he asks.

  “Green.”

  He then picks up the nipple clamps and shows them to me. “Do you trust me?”

  I like sensation play, but nipple clamps are uncomfortable and something I have avoided up until now. I gaze at them nervously, and then look up at Master Anderson. This is a test. Do I trust him enough to challenge me? His care and kindness toward me at the Training Center makes me confident in my answer. “Yes, Master.”

  But my heart begins to race as he plays with one nipple, readying it for the clamp by playing with it until it is hard between his fingers. I hold my breath as he places the cold metal on my nipple and beings tightening it. I whimper when the pressure gets to be too much, and he immediately stops.

  Pulling away, he looks down at me with a seductive smile. “Give it time, slave…”

  I look up into his eyes with trust and feel the ache slowly beginning to dissipate.

  “Color?”

  “Green-yellow.”

  He raises an eyebrow. “Are you ready for the other?”

  There is a tinge of fear in answering yes, knowing what it will feel like, but my curiosity spurs me on to comply. “Yes, Master.”

  Master Anderson readies my other nipple, placing the second clamp onto it. I cringe as he tightens it to the same level of pressure as the other. But I feel an extra connection to him as I stare into those green eyes, waiting for the ache to lessen.

  “And now for the fun,” he states, rubbing each nipple being squeezed by the device.

  He picks up the chain that connects the two nipple clamps and begins playing with it. I squirm in my restraints, my nipples responding to his expert manipulation as he pulls on the chain slightly, mimicking the feel and pressure of two men sucking on my breasts at the same time.

  I look up at him in awe, not realizing they could feel so sexy. He grins in satisfaction while he lightly strokes my pussy with his other hand, setting my entire body on fire.

  “You’re wet, slave.”

  There’s no denying it. “Yes, Master. Thank you.”

  It’s easy to see he enjoys my pleasure. After several minutes, he sets the chain back down on my chest and moves to the end of the table, standing there between my open legs.

  “And now for your shave.”

  I have had a waxing before, but never a shave. There is a dangerous element to it because he is using a razor in such a sensitive area.

  It requires an even greater level of trust on my part…

  Before he begins, Master Anderson places his hand on my mound, saying in a husky voice, “I love shaving a woman.”

  He leaves the room for a moment without explanation. The anticipation builds as I wait for his return, and I smile to myself. It seems that in everything he does, Master Anderson is drawing on and pulling out my submissive side. There is a definite reason he is a trainer at the school.

  When Master Anderson returns, he settles down between my legs, spreading them out wide as he wets my skin with a damp cloth before lathering up the area.

  Before he begins, he asks, “Do you consent to a shave?”

  “Yes, Master.”

  I hold my breath the first time the razor touches my skin and he scrapes across it. Because of my restraint, I’m left staring up at the ceiling during the shave, unable to see what he is doing gives me a feeling of objectification as I lie here.

  Master Anderson is slow and meticulous as he shaves off all my pubic hair. But, oh my God, it tickles when he shaves the sensitive area near my clit, and I have to concentrate hard to keep from squirming. I can tell he enjoys my internal struggle because he chuckles softly every time he makes a pass over the ticklish parts.

  Once I am completely bare, he cleans me off.

  “I enjoy petting bare pussy, slave. But do you know what I love even more?”

  “No, Master.”

  As I stare up at the ceiling, my eyes wide, as I the feel the sensual caress of his hand on my smooth mound. It sends tingles throughout my entire body, and then…I feel his tongue.

  I shudder in pleasure as he teases my clit with his mouth, sucking, licking, and flicking it with that expert tongue. When he sneaks his hand up and begins playing with the chain of the nipple clamps, stimulating my nipples again, I cry out in sheer ecstasy.

  “More, more, more!” I beg breathlessly.

  “Oh, slave, this is only the beginning…”

  Casualties

  Captain

  After leaving Candy in the capable hands of Anderson, I feel convinced this is a viable match. The man’s humor and wit will pair up nicely with Candy’s own, and their similar interests in business should bode well for the future.

  My mission isn’t to find someone for Candy just for now—hell, I could be that for her. No, I want someone she can partner with for a lifetime. Someone I know is worthy of her love and submission.

  Ever since the visit to the pet shop, I haven’t been able to get Trouper out of my mind. The idea of getting a dog interests me, but rather than purchasing a pup from a store, I head to the nearest animal shelter to save a life.

  Unfortunately, I’m informed by the volunteer at the front desk that they have no Australian Shepherds at the kennel so I’m directed to one across town that does.

  I sit in LA traffic to get to it, but when I go to the front desk, the woman tells me, “No, I’m sorry. We don’t have any Australian Shepherds.”

  I sigh in frustration, having made the long trip. “Can you check?”

  She gets up and opens the door to the back. I hear several barking dogs as she yells over the din, “Hey Chuck, we got any Australians I don’t know about?”

  I hear from back in the kennels, “We have one, but she’s fifteen years old and was diagnosed with Addison’s disease.”

  The woman looks at me and shrugs. “I’m sorry, the poor dog isn’t really adoption material. Would you like me to check the other shelters for one?”

  “Can I see her?”

  “She isn’t expected to live more than a year.”

  “Can I see her?”

  “Of course.” She opens the door and yells at Chuck. “Come up here. He’d like to see her.”

  Chucks walks up from the back to escort me to the dog’s kennel. I pass by countless dogs, many looking up at me and wagging their tails hopefully, but when I come to the Australian, I find her curled up in the corner looking completely desolate.

  Chuck unlocks the door and her ears twitch, but she doesn’t bother to lift her head.

  He explains, “She’s been this way eve
r since she arrived. It’s like she’s given up.”

  “Why was she surrendered to the pound?”

  “If I remember right, the owner passed away.”

  I look at the dog, which seems lost in grief. “Can you give me some time alone with her?”

  “Sure thing. I’ll dig up the paperwork on her, if you like.”

  “Do.”

  After he leaves, I slowly walk up to the dog. “I know you miss your master, girl…”

  I sit down beside her with my back against the cement wall. As I look at the dog with those sad blue and brown eyes, I am overcome with a profound sense of remorse myself.

  Memories of the events that led to the deaths of my entire battery invade my mind and I am transported back to that day on the battlefield.

  “One of our nation’s own DEA agents has been tortured and killed by a well-known drug trafficker in Central America. This is a direct and blatant attack on our country, and it represents a clear and present danger to the security of the United States of America; therefore, I direct that this threat must be dealt with swiftly. This is an act of war.”

  My battery is part of a covert bilateral mission to take him out and eliminate his entire cocaine operation. When we are done here, there will be nothing left of Javier Garcia but a memory. With intelligence gained by local informants and allied forces already on the ground in that region, we know the location of Javier’s facility and the exact day and time he will be arriving to check on production. We have planned a multipronged attack coordinated with artillery support from the host nation.

  The day of the mission, a light mist hangs in the air over the triple canopy jungle. It gives the terrain an almost mystical quality as we make our way to the first objective. Many of the veteran troops remark on the similarity with operations they’ve conducted in Vietnam.

  The sound of birds in the canopy of trees above helps to mask the sound of our approach. We have four companies making up the battalion and enter the field with 527 souls onboard with one mission in mind.

  Based on our intel, Javier will be visiting his production facility at 1500 hours. I position my battery just behind the ridge, and settle in to wait. I’m confident in our superior firepower and the skill of my men, but the Colonel has additional support ready to assist if needed.