Great, Dom Malibu Ken.
As I eye the life size man-doll complete with a fake bake tan and frosted tips in his hair, I have to stifle a chuckle.
I grab my wine and rush away before he has a chance to make a move on me. There is most certainly no lack of testosterone or male ego here tonight and I have no intentions of coming under anyone’s line of fire.
The TV cameras have brought out the masses and I have one thing on the brain: getting these women stirred up. I was under the impression people in this lifestyle would avoid TV cameras and I can only guess the inception of BDSM into the mainstream population makes it okay to be here tonight.
No sooner has it crossed my mind that I need to stir these girls up, than a loud scream comes from the booth where David and some of the girls are seated at.
“You bitch!”
I immediately rush over to the camera man and whisper, “Get this.”
“You better believe that I’m getting it,” he chuckles.
Let the games begin; this is what makes good reality TV.
I watch as two women hurl accusations and then drinks at one another. A resounding, “I’ll kill you!” is the last thing that I hear as I watch Heather run for the rest room.
Now the women will be motivated for sure. It is about to get intense and I will have to be on top of my game; I have no idea just how intense things are going to get.
I don’t have time to contemplate; I need to go make sure Heather is okay. I understand these girls will fight but telling someone you are going to kill them is crossing the line so I understand her being upset over it.
I hurry through the hallway in search of Heather; I’m certain she is headed for the bathroom.
I can hear her sobbing as I make my way through the darkened hallway. These women are so vicious. I’m used to dealing with reality TV contestants and I know how cutthroat the competition can get but I’m not convinced she can do this.
When I interviewed her, she had been so excited about being accepted on this TV show. She had prepared for months, studying the lifestyle and getting ready for any question that could possibly be thrown at her. She went so far as to tell me she had studied the lifestyle in depth. By the time I interviewed her, I was way past feeling like I would only hire BDSM lifestylers. It had become difficult to find people who were in the lifestyle and willing to do the show. Many people didn’t want to be outed due to family members and/or their jobs. That is the reason I had been so shocked to see the turn out tonight; the crowd didn’t seem to care about the cameras.
I know, from researching the girls, she needs the million dollars that the winner will receive, not to mention the fame and the endorsements that will come from winning. Most of the women on the show are in debt due to their irresponsible behavior concerning credit cards or moving from job to job. Each girl has been researched extensively.
She will have to toughen up. Even if she can’t be tough, she’s going to have to be sneaky. She has already proven she can do that by convincing the women she is in the BDSM culture but she is going to have to up her game. She just needs a pep talk; I’ve seen it all before on other shows.
“Heather, sweetie,” I call out through the darkened hallway, “are you okay?”
I make my way into the bathroom; playing den mother to these girls is just part of my job.
“She said that she would kill me, Linda.”
“Sweetie, no one is going to kill you. People say things they don’t mean in the heat of the moment. I can assure you you’re safe here.”
“I know, I know, but these girls are so mean.”
People get that way when a million dollars is at risk.
“Wash up and come back out, you’ve got a competition to try and win.”
I stand in the mirror and listen to the girls bantering back and forth from their bathroom stalls about how dreamy David is. Eye roll.
They giggle as they exit and one of them eyes me, giggling “You picked the perfect guy for this show.”
Yeah, an egotistical Alpha.
Before I have a chance to answer the other girl looks up and states to her friend, “Yeah, bitch, let the games begin. All’s fair in love and war.”
I know all too well that before six weeks is up, it will be a blood bath of hair extensions, acrylic nails, and messed up, tear-stained make-up.
I have witnessed it time and time again and it never fails. It isn’t about the man or love, it is about winning the money and becoming famous. This is a ‘no holds barred’ competition and these women will stop at nothing to win.
I have witnessed it so much that I can now just about peg what is going to happen before it ever happens. The girls who are the best of friends entering into the competition are the girls who end up leaving as archenemies.
I laugh to myself as I think of one of the behind the scenes jokes of the editors and producers: Once they drink the kool-aid and the fame bug bites them, it will be every woman for herself.
Ironically enough, the only person who will come out of this unscathed is David.
Yeah, Mr. Dom David himself will be the only one left standing.
It is one reason among many that I hold him in such contempt even though I know I shouldn’t because each person who comes on-set does so with their eyes wide open.
I make my way out of the bathroom and into the darkened hallway. Someone jerks me around the corner, covering my mouth with their hand.
Struggling is useless as I hear David’s growl in my ear. “Stay away from him; I mean it, Linda!”
I struggle in vain against a man who has clearly developed some kind of fixation on me.
I listen as Heather makes her way through the hallway and I quit struggling. My breath catches in my throat as David whisks me around the corner, pulling my head back and covering my mouth with his. For just a moment, I forget and give in.
“I’m trying to protect you. Stay away from him, Linda, I mean it!”
I can’t help but wonder if his actions are due to being protective of me, or being jealous of Greg.
More than that, I am baffled by the fact that he doesn’t scare me; he excites me.
Staying away from this jerk is going to be a top priority. Pulling it off, well… that is a different story…
Chapter Seven
David
I have been unable to sleep. As a man who prides himself on being in control, this situation has thrown my life and thoughts completely in to the other end of the spectrum—chaos, absolute chaos.
It is now mandatory that I sleep in the mansion.
I have to be the Dom with a conscience and offer myself up as the proverbial sacrificial lamb, just to show the world what BDSM is really about.
I venture down to the dungeon just to clear my head. As soon as I step into the room, I can feel my cock harden in the drawstring pants that I’m wearing.
I lift my nose and breathe in deeply. The scent of leather and orange oil serve as an aphrodisiac to man like me. I turn around, feeling the presence of someone watching me in the doorway.
“Well, well, well, what do we have here? Don’t you just look like someone with a dollification fetish?”
I grab a fistful of the life size Barbie doll’s bleach blonde hair and pull her into the room, latching the lock on the door.
I pull her into my face, nose to nose, and snarl, “My cock is hard and I can’t sleep. What are you going to do about it?”
Ironically enough, I peg the girl’s fetish correctly and she even went so far as to go by the slave name, ‘Barbie.’
She drops down to her knees, undoing my drawstring pants with her teeth. I watch my cock spring forth at the thought of her wrapping those silicone injected pink lips around my cock.
“Oh yeah, you’re ready to be a slut for that money aren’t you?”
I have an edge when it comes to not mincing words. I’m frustrated these women who know nothing at all about the lifestyle—nor care anything about the lifestyle—are trying to make
bank on it.
Barbie swallows my cock like a pro. After all, it is her career on the line. She needs for me to pick her in this show and if she has to blow her way to the top, well then, so be it. I know these women will do anything to win and I’m just enough of a prick to use it to my advantage.
She begins pumping my cock, swallowing me whole as she works me over with her tongue and in no time at all, I’m shooting come down her throat. Like I said, I’m a prick, a bastard, whatever you want to call it. Really, what I am is pissed off that I can’t have the woman I want so I’m taking it out on anyone who gets in my way.
I’m no worse than the contestants I’m dealing with because they are lying, cheating, and sucking cock to get what they want. They are using me so it isn’t like I’m being anymore of a bastard than I normally am.
I let her finish and then I do what I always do when I’m pissed, I kick her out of my room. I sit on the edge of the bed plotting. I’m a savvy business man and I plan on using it to my benefit. I have an edge in business and it has earned me a reputation with my colleagues of being cutthroat. When I get something in my head—much like a dog with a bone—there is no letting it go.
It’s evident Linda is all business so I am going to have to approach her in that manner. She could not care any less about a relationship or even sex; she’s all business. She is here to make her mark in TV. I do have to say I respect the girl for being able to work toe to toe with some off the best in the biz. The media is a very competitive market and it takes a lot of money and various connections to tap into it. I know from my research she has worked her way from the bottom up and she did it with no one’s help. There is more than one way for me to get near her and, like it or not, I’m going to have to come to her on her terms—or at least let her believe that’s what I’m doing.
Desperate times call for desperate measures.
I make my way to bed because I would have to meet the new day with new vigor…
Chapter Eight
Linda
If I know anything, I know people. This line of work has given me hands-on experience with human nature and what makes people tick.
Barbie has been following David around all morning. It only confirms what I already know—the guy is a man whore—and I don’t want a damn thing to do with him.
No sooner had I made that observation than David makes his way over to me.
“We need to talk, Linda. I’m just not feeling this show.”
I jerk my head around and I’m sure if looks could kill, he’d be dead. Suddenly something my mother used to tell me as a child, pops into my head: “You draw more bees with honey, Linda.”
I do my best to turn on the charm without being too obvious.
“Now David, I’m sure that we can discuss this.”
Everything in me wants to state, “Look you little shit, you’re under contract!”
Sneaky little bitch—turning on the charm.
“Well, I’m willing to give you the respect of talking, but I have some pressing business matters, Linda. You can expect my driver at your front door at 8:00pm and we will have dinner at the club. It will give you a chance to see me in my element. It will be good for the show.”
Before I have time to answer, he abruptly turns and walks away.
I can’t help but wonder how he knows my address. He is proving to be different than any other man I’ve been around but, then again, I’ve never been subjected to a Dom. Anyone I have talked to says true Doms are a whole different breed of the male species.
I will try to pacify David only because I have no intention of losing my good business reputation for him, or anyone else. My lead contestant walking out on me is not what I need right now. I don’t think I would be as worried if it was someone who didn’t have the money and the clout he has. If he decides he wants out of doing this show, I’m certain he has enough connections to be able to leave without suffering any consequences for doing so.
If he does that, then I’m going to be the one left dealing with the media and the implications that go with bad press. The press has a way of making a person famous or infamous and, being that it is my business reputation on the line, I certainly don’t want to gamble or take chances on finding another Dom. This is not good…Not good at all…
Linda
I eye myself in the mirror and I can’t help but smirk. When it comes to business, I will use anything at my disposal and tonight what I have at my disposal is my ‘feminine wiles.’
I lift up my short black dress to reveal black and red garters, complete with black seamed stockings. I place a dot of high end perfume on each upper thigh and at the back of each knee.
I have no intentions of letting David get close enough to smell it, but just knowing that it is there makes me feel sexy. In any woman’s world, being sexy is akin to being powerful.
I grab my clutch and make my way to the door. I have already learned enough about the nature of a true Dom to know that his driver won’t be late. Sure enough, he is there promptly at 8:00pm. I make my way out the door. Let the games begin…
David
“What can I do for you, Boss?”
“I have a guest tonight; don’t skimp on the alcohol. By the time she is working on the second one, I want her reservations down.”
I smack the bar twice and go to do one more mirror check before my guest arrives.
The bartender chuckles and I know he is thinking about the fact there is a one drink limit for anyone who ‘plays’ in my club. Anybody who knows me knows that I never have to liquor a woman up to have my way with her.
I’m certain he is curious to know who the mystery woman is. I’m watched with curiosity and sought out by subs just for the fact that I own the club. It bugs me at times. Women seem to seek out the status that being with me brings, not me. That is one of the reasons I make it clear that I only play. The last thing I need is some sub latching onto me and developing feelings. Yes…play suits me quite well at this juncture in my life.
Chapter Nine
Linda
I make my way through the crowded room, ignoring the stares of curious onlookers. I am used to it by now; people are always curious about TV personalities. Even though I am a behind the scenes producer, thoughts of me being able to put them on TV someday always cross the average person’s mind. TV has a way of seducing people and pulling them in with its allure. I know the double edged sword of it all too well, and any charm has worn off for me eons ago.
David stands and kisses my hand.
Eye roll—how chivalrous.
All that I want to do is get this deal over with.
The waitress comes over and I order a Merlot. I watch as David whispers something in her ear.
She returns with our drinks and shots of Patron.
How the fuck does he know that I drink Patron?
My skepticism must show on my face because David raises a brow and states: “Indulge me.” I never take my eyes off of him and slam the shot down.
“Trying to get me drunk won’t work, David. I can hold my own in the liquor department.”
I can’t but he doesn’t need to know that. I will take it slow for the rest of the evening.
By the time dinner is over, I am in a great mood and surprisingly enough, I’m having a great time.
Okay, time to charm the snake.
I will find out as the evening wears on, that I have overestimated my abilities and underestimated David’s. That is something that very seldom happens to me but, then again, I have never been subjugated by a Dom.
This guy is the type that once he gets something in his head, he won’t give up. Add that innate personality trait to being a Dom, and he is unstoppable.
I have no idea why the guy has set his sights on me when he has access to not only a mansion full of women, but also the women who frequent his establishment. I can’t help but wonder if it isn’t simply the fact that I’m not interested. I’m sure he is used to women never turning him down and being face
d with a challenge is new to him.
For me, it boils down to a couple of things: I’m married to my job, and I’m extremely independent. He is the type of man with the exact temperament I would never succumb to. I refuse to have any man lording over me. I enjoy my independence and I damn sure enjoy making my own money.
David
I situate my jacket and eye my opponent. Thoughts of burying myself in her—cervix deep—is making my cock hard. It is time to go in for the kill.
“You know, Linda, you have never even witnessed a scene. To be perfectly honest with you, the least you could do—out of respect for me and the lifestyle—is that much.”
“It is very important to me that this show doesn’t make a mockery of BDSM. In fact, that is the only reason I even agreed to do it.”
I watch intently as she squirms in her seat. She is right where I want her—at the awkward state. It will give me the control that I love.
“I have no problem with that; it will help me as far as research.”
She tries to answer with an air of confidence but the look on her face shows her true feelings; she’s panicking. I wonder if she is scared I’m going to recognize she has tendencies. If so, it is too late for that because I pegged her a long time ago. She just doesn’t know it yet.
Chapter Ten
Linda
David and I stand and watch as the Dom I had laughingly referred to as ‘Malibu Dom’ flogs a sub.
The woman has been placed on a St. Andrew’s cross and turned around for the scene. Greg makes his way up and down her back in precise figure eight movements. It is evident by the flick of his wrist that he is a seasoned Dom and knows how to use the flogger in his hand.
He turns, notices us standing there, and makes his way over to me to whisper in my ear. “I would love for this to be you one day, Linda.”
What happens next fell nothing short of shocking me.
David leans in and spit-hisses as if he is a reptile. He is speaking so low that if I wasn’t listening closely, I wouldn’t be able to hear him. “You know protocol! You don’t ever approach a sub when she is with another Dom!”
Make Me Page 3