Retraining the Dom Read online

  Evernight Publishing

  www.evernightpublishing.com

  Copyright© 2013 Jennifer Denys

  ISBN: 978-1-77130-610-2

  Cover Artist: Sour Cherry Designs

  Editor: Karyn White

  ALL RIGHTS RESERVED

  WARNING: The unauthorized reproduction or distribution of this copyrighted work is illegal. No part of this book may be used or reproduced electronically or in print without written permission, except in the case of brief quotations embodied in reviews.

  This is a work of fiction. All names, characters, and places are fictitious. Any resemblance to actual events, locales, organizations, or persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental.

  DEDICATION

  To my two Doms, English and American. To SGK—thank you for everything you've taught me, for your patience, understanding and friendship. To ML—thank you for patiently answering my multitude of questions, your honest answers and your friendship, too.

  Note to my readers—please be aware this is fictional BDSM where the Doms always fall in love with their subs, are hunky and handsome, and nobody is hurt. This doesn't always happen in real life. If you do want to go into the lifestyle, please be careful.

  RETRAINING THE DOM

  Battle of Wills, 2

  Jennifer Denys

  Copyright © 2013

  Prologue

  Sean grimaced as he warily watched the “play” taking place in the room. He was the owner of Club Allure, one of the most successful BDSM clubs in the city, popular because he had a policy of careful practice on the premises.

  His eyes narrowed as they alighted on Master Trey, one of his long-standing Doms who was in his forties. Trey was in his usual stark black outfit, matching his hair, and was very stubborn and moody. Like now, Trey had his naked sub tied over a spanking bench and was hitting her with a crop. There was nothing unusual in that since sadomasochism was an element of BDSM that many practitioners took part in, but in this case Trey was possibly being too forceful given the look of agony on the sub’s face.

  Like all subs she had the option of saying her safe word if she’d had enough. But in the meantime Sean was keeping a close eye on them, ready to jump in if—when—necessary like he’d had to do the other night with this very Dom.

  Sean glanced down at the document in his hands and frowned.

  Retraining Program (Doms)

  Dammit! How on earth was he going to tell Trey, one of the most powerful Doms that Sean had ever come across, that he had to go on the club’s Retraining Program?

  He considered why he let Trey continue his membership and shook his head in bewilderment. Trey might be arrogant, callous, and inflexible, but it was those qualities that some subs, particularly those into pain play, looked for in a Master. There is no accounting for some people’s tastes. Sean sighed, suspecting that there was a competition amongst the subs to see if any of them could warm the icy heart of this Dom, who was in danger of being thrown out.

  “Hey, Sean. Seems like you have the weight of the world on your shoulders.” A deep voice interrupted his musings as a tall, well-built woman in her early fifties came and sat next to him at the bar.

  “Oh, hi, Olivia. I surely do.” Olivia Redmond was one of his mature Dommes. Now why can’t Trey be more like her? She sticks to the rules. Sean shrugged to himself. Sometimes she was too much a stickler for doing things properly, but at least he didn’t get any complaints about her treatment of the subs.

  “What’s up? Can I help?”

  He chuckled sarcastically. “Yeah, sure. You can go and tell Trey that he has to go on the Retraining Program.” Sean didn’t expect her, for an instant, to comply with his request.

  Instead she burst into laughter. “You have to be kidding! Trey on the Program. Mister Control himself.” She continued her chortling, attracting the gazes of all those nearby. Olivia was a loud person, and not only in what she wore, which on this occasion was a red leather top that barely kept her voluptuous chest covered revealing the outline of a tattoo over her right breast. Sean had often wondered what the full tattoo was a picture of. The top was teamed with a matching pair of tight trousers and five inch stiletto heels. This made her tower over Sean, despite the fact that he was fairly tall himself. She was also loud in her mannerisms. One could never lose Olivia in a crowd. If you didn’t see her a mile away, you would certainly hear her.

  Fortunately, Trey wasn’t close enough to hear her outburst, but Sean still shushed her.

  She simply raised an eyebrow, before continuing in a slightly quieter voice. “So how’s the Retraining Program going?”

  Sean had instigated the program to ensure the high standards of the club were kept. These not only included safe BDSM practices, but also members respecting one another so all could enjoy the lifestyle. There was a similar program for subs. He recalled one particular couple it had worked out really well for, that of Master Lucas and his sub, Annabel—now his wife.

  Turning to look for them he saw that Lucas had tied Annabel to a table, which was set in the middle of an alcove. Many Doms liked using this table to place their sub flat on the surface. In this instance, Lucas had Annabel face up, and her blouse was undone. Between a gap in the crowd surrounding them Sean could see the Dom was running an ice-cube over his sub’s torso from her lips down her neck and breasts to her navel and back. Sean smiled as Lucas tormented Annabel’s nipples. Squirming madly, she was shrieking at him, but Sean knew she didn’t mean him to stop. Annabel would be the first person to use her safe word.

  She had gotten into a habit of misusing her “word”, yelling it every time she began to lose control of a situation, unable to trust any Dom enough to let go. This had been a deep-seated problem going back to her domineering parents and not wanting to give anyone that degree of control over her ever again.

  Until Lucas had come along.

  Sean watched Lucas as he leaned down to suck Annabel’s tightly puckered points and saw her arch her body off the table. Lucas had been the only one of Sean’s Doms prepared to train her, but it turned out he had his own agenda, as Annabel had jilted him at the altar several years previously and Lucas wanted his revenge. She had balked at first, but it was be retrained by Lucas, or leave the club. She had chosen the former, and, despite Lucas wielding his cane against her backside with great delight, it was he who very nearly walked out when he recognized that they still had feelings for each other, as he had difficulties trusting as well. Fortunately, they resolved their issues, and Sean had never heard Annabel cry her safe word again.

  The sound of a voice penetrated his daydream. It was Olivia repeating her question. “Sorry.” Sean explained further at her questioning look. “Didn’t you hear about the incident the other night?” Olivia shook her head. “Trey totally lost it. He was punishing his sub and went hell for leather at her, swearing, calling her all sorts of names. We had to pull him off before he did permanent physical damage.”

  “Ker-rist!” Olivia was clearly shocked. She rarely swore, and then only when she was riled.

  “Respect works both ways. Yes, a sub has to respect her Dom, but he has to return it. That’s the problem with Trey. He doesn’t care about his subs, neither their physical well-being nor their emotional.”

  “Good luck telling him this.” Olivia’s misgiving was obvious.

  Sean harrumphed and shifted in his seat trying to ease the tension in his shoulders.

  Olivia frowned. “What are the options if he doesn’t go through with the Program?” She answered her own question. “I guess he has to leave, and that will affect his reputation in the community, so no-one will want to sub with him again, if another club will let him in, that is.”

  Shrugging in response, Sean turned
to glance at the object of their discussion, who was having a debate with one of the Club’s Monitors tasked with keeping an eye on the recalcitrant Dom that evening. Sean sighed.

  “That’s the crux of it. He could advertise for a sub, but chances are any reputable sites won’t take his advert. Of course, there are the less-than-desirable sites. I worry that he’ll take a sub on privately and get carried away with no-one around to stop him. At least here we can keep an eye on him.”

  Leaning back against the counter of the bar, Olivia replaced a clip to restrain a wayward curl. She always kept her long, dark hair tied back neatly giving her a severe look. “How about a warning to see if that will curb his excesses?”

  “Done that.”

  “Hmm.” She made a face. “Well, I know the air would turn blue if you tried putting a Master in charge of Trey’s retraining, if not murder committed on the premises.” She laughed at the image she had conjured up.

  “Yup. Try telling me something new. Or even better come up with a solution.” Sean could hear the desperation in his own voice.

  Olivia was silent for a few moments as she seemed to think through the dilemma. “Okay, how about teaming him with someone physically strong enough that he will think twice, like Mike?” A wrestler by profession, Mike was built like a brick wall.

  “I asked. He won’t do it. And I agree. They’d just kill each other.”

  A few more seconds went by, and then she said, “Here’s another idea. How about a using female, one of the Mistresses, but a resilient one? One he can’t dominate even if she is a Dominatrix. It’s more subtle than using a Dom.”

  Sean stared at Olivia in astonishment. She wasn’t looking at him, but he knew that was exactly what he needed. “That is absolutely brilliant! And I’ve got just the person in mind.”

  She swiveled her head around to look at him. “Who?”

  He grinned at her. “So what are you doing at this moment?”

  Chapter One

  The door slammed against the frame, and Olivia jumped in her chair. She was sitting in Sean’s office, behind his desk, in fact, waiting for Trey. She had hoped sitting here would give her some degree of authority.

  Damn it! I’m a Domme. I’ve been one for over twenty years. I shouldn't be intimidated. She had to show she was the Mistress in this room. It was the hardest challenge she had ever faced, even harder than becoming a Dominant in the first place when she was a natural submissive. But there had been reasons why that had happened—big reasons. However, they weren’t ones she wanted to think about now as it would confuse the issue. She had a task to undertake, although she wasn’t sure how Sean had conned her into this when he had asked her the other day.

  "What the fuck is this, Sean?"

  The man who had charged in like an angry bull came to a sudden halt in the middle of the room and peered around, clearly looking for the object of his dissatisfaction, namely the owner of the club. When he didn’t see him Trey turned back to Olivia.

  “So where is he, Livvy? Where’s the bastard who had the balls to send me this?” He screwed up the paper he was holding, disgust evident on his face, and threw it in the direction of the nearby bin.

  Olivia braced herself for their confrontation calling on everything she had learned in two decades of being a Domme. Lifting her chin she looked Trey straight in the eye trying to hold his gaze. It wasn't easy. He lifted an arrogant eyebrow as if to question her actions.

  She got in first. "My name is Olivia, Trey. Remember it. Mistress Olivia." Until now, being equals, she had ignored his continued use of her nickname. Actually it wasn't even one she personally used. He was the only person to say it. Everyone else respected her Domme status and called her by her full name, except Trey. She had always put it down to his arrogance.

  Well, it can’t continue. Not if I’m going to train him.

  When he burst out laughing she sighed, unsurprised by his reaction. She knew it wasn’t going to be easy.

  Crossing his arms over his chest Trey haughtily demanded an answer. “What is going on, Livvy? Oh, forgive me. Mistress Olivia!”

  Ignoring the sarcasm she rested her elbows on the table clasping her hands together, giving him a patronizing look back. “And I thought you more intelligent than that, Trey. You read the notice, didn’t you? It states that you are required to go on the Club’s Retraining Program.” Olivia took her time saying “retraining”, emphasizing it very slightly.

  Trey scoffed. “That’s for subs.”

  “Uh-uh.” Olivia was more confident now, aware that she had the slight edge on him as she knew more about it than he did. “There is a Dom Retraining program, too, you know.”

  She watched him closely. His face was tight, body tense with coiled anger. “Why the shit should I go on that? I’ve been a Dom for years.”

  “Call it a ‘refresher course’ instead, for those people who forget everything they’ve learned.” She was starting to feel in charge of this conversation and relaxed back in the chair, toying with a pen making it seem like she was not interested in what he was saying.

  Trey’s scowl turned into a glare. “So why isn’t Sean telling me this? He’s such a sniveling coward, hiding behind a woman. I wouldn’t put it past him to be cowering under that desk, hiding under your skirts, metaphorically speaking, of course, since you probably aren’t wearing one, as usual.”

  Okay, now it’s time for the truth. But how to tell him I’m to be his trainer? Olivia resisted taking a deep breath as that might seem that she lacked confidence, and she didn’t dare do that with him of all people. Maybe a different tack might work. She narrowed her eyes as she considered the idea that just came to her. Instead of trying to dominate him—which was a sheer impossibility—she’d try to befriend him.

  Smiling, she leaned forward, bending her head as if she was about to give away a confidential secret and nodded to the chair in front of the table. Keeping her voice low, she said, “Sit down, Trey. Come on, take a seat.”

  He didn’t move for a moment, eyeing her suspiciously, and then he reluctantly sat, spreading his thighs wide as some men have a habit of doing. Olivia glanced at the bulge in his pants. Even at rest it was impressive.

  “Well?”

  Olivia looked up startled, guilty being caught staring. A little flustered, she clasped her hands together trying to avoid trembling. “Look, Trey, we’re equals, and I know as well as you do it’s somewhat ridiculous that a Dom of your standing could have someone else trying to tell you what to do. So, instead of me retraining you, how about we do just enough ‘refreshing stuff’ to mollify Sean.”

  Expecting an outburst, she held her breath. Trying to keep calm she waited, slightly impatiently, her fingers clenched together as she watched him intently. Trey’s face was a picture of incredulity. Was that good or bad? Would he accede to her dominance?

  “You! You train me?”

  Before he could continue that thought, Olivia jumped in. “Now what did I just say? I couldn’t possibility ‘train’ you, despite probably having as much experience as you. So instead let’s just work together and learn from each other. Who knows? We may pick up a few tricks that the other one didn’t know. Hey, that would be good. A mutual sharing of our practices. And in the meantime Sean will be appeased.” She beamed brightly at him, pretending a self-assurance she didn’t have, but hoping it looked like she did.

  When he stared fiercely her heart started thumping. She’d seen that look before, and it wasn’t good. He wasn’t going along with this. Well, it is a rather stupid ploy. But how the hell can I dominate him, Mr. Authority himself? She tried to recall, once again, how Sean had managed to persuade her into this appalling situation. All she could remember was the angst in his voice and excitement in his face when he’d asked her if she would consider doing Trey’s retraining.

  “Okay.”

  She blinked. Really? He’s agreeing?

  While she was still gob-smacked Trey continued. “I still think there is something fishy going on,
but before I consider this idiotic idea further, tell me why Sean says I’ve got to go on this retraining-refreshing program, whatever it’s called.” Trey seemed to have calmed a little, although his voice was somewhat agitated.

  Olivia was amazed that he hadn’t walked out yet. Maybe she was coming over as more assertive than she thought. The question now was how does one tell a Dom he’s crap at what he does?

  Hell!

  Deciding more “buddy” stuff was needed Olivia got up and retrieved some beers from Sean’s mini-fridge, taking the tops off before slowly returning to the desk, taking time to compose her thoughts. She avoided looking at his face in case his hard countenance made her legs turn to jelly. For years she had managed to control her subs by choosing ones who were intimidated by her physical presence and the “Dom look” she perfected. This included power clothes, bright colors, in particular, red—no white or pastel in her wardrobe—much of it leather. Her dark hair severely brushed and tied back. Some Doms had beards and tattoos. Well, she couldn’t do much about the former, but she had a few of the latter, including one she kept hidden.

  But despite this, there were certain people she avoided because they could dominate the hell out of her. Trey was one of those, so she was still stunned that she had agreed to take him on.

  Perching her leather-clad butt on the corner of the desk, she rested the toe of one shoe on the arm of his chair, but smiled inwardly when the Dom in Trey responded by placing his opposite foot on the table next to her.

  Stalemate.

  As she handed Trey a bottle their fingers touched, and a shiver went up her back. That sort of surprised her, but didn’t. He might be controlling, but he was a very attractive commanding hunk of a man, one who made her pussy weep. It was a shame she couldn’t act on that instinct.