Chapter One
The newspaper went into the recycling bin with a crisp snap. I usually ignored the book reviews, but one of the titles intrigued me, The True Dom. The reviewer had given it five stars and written a glowing commentary about the author's brilliance. I thought, maybe, just maybe someone gave a different portrayal of those in the Dominate/submit lifestyle. Wishful thinking. It was just another compilation of fuck-font, confusing a Dick with a Dom.
The lifestyle had become ridiculously overrun with fake Doms exploiting the pool of victims ignorantly, and sometimes openly, begging to be brutalized. And with the fifty shades of kink epidemic, the shit had exploded and people flocked to it with barely a clue what they were getting into. The result was a feeding frenzy of epic proportion with untold carnage.
The wastebasket was nearly empty, but I bundled the items to drop off to the recycling center anyway. The urge to clean something, or put one thing right in the world, was more than I could stand. A bold heading on the back of the newspaper I'd thrown away caught my eye. "Dom Wars". I snatched the newspaper out and read.
Do you naturally Dominate others? Do you get your way through control and discipline? Do others look to you for leadership?
If so, prove it and win $1,000,000!
Audition to compete on a reality TV show and prove to the world that you have what it takes to Dominate!
The Ultimate Dom wins and will become the new face and spokesperson for the alternative lifestyle division of Gladiator, Inc, producer of bestselling adult novelties and toys.
I stood riveted in pure what the fuck, no way in hell, shock. The piece went on to list terms and conditions and disclaimers, which I barely skimmed. Holy shit. They had to be kidding.
A million? The idea of that much money began to dance in my head. Who couldn't use that? I stared at the ad, halfway chewing on my lower lip. The need to conquer infused my bones and suddenly pulsated like a powerhouse of influence in my cock. Challenge of any and every kind had always drawn me, fueled by some vague need to prove myself. The true test became choosing the wisest challenge.
This was definitely a worthy and wise challenge. Becoming the Ultimate Dom? The face of Gladiator, Inc? Eh. Everything had its con.
I jotted down the call for more details number, ready to learn what exactly this DOM WARS would require of me. Even though I'd been out of the lifestyle for several years, it shouldn't be a problem. Like riding a bike, for the most part. And my Dom wasn't a role I played, it was my nature. If it was an authentic gig, I should be fine. But until I knew that, the thoughts creating a lightning storm in my head would have to simmer.
****
All the possibilities Dom Wars might entail absorbed my mind as I jogged around the lake at the park a few blocks from my apartment. Images of sweaty bodies in soft light, the sound of leather smacking flesh, moans of pain mingled with pleasure, and a myriad of other scenes I'd participated in through the years flashed through my head.
The memory of a woman's ass as I soothed away the sting of a spanking drove heat straight to my cock. The thrill of a submissive's ultimate trust in me as she gave herself over entirely to the pleasure I could bring her made my heart pound. It also brought the empty feeling I slept with every night no matter how much sex there was. It was as if I ate, but the food left by some hole in my stomach, never providing satisfaction or nourishment. It created a hungry monster inside me.
