Ella Dominguez - Becoming Sir

Moving on with his questions, he asked, “In your opinion, what makes a good Dominant?”

Sarah looked uneasy with the question but pondered her answer thoughtfully.

“I’ll answer you, but please keep in mind that every submissive has different needs. For me, a good Dominant is someone who is comfortable with themselves and accepts who they are, and what their needs and their submissive’s needs are. He is a leader and not a follower. There are so many things, Mr. Morrison. It’s a difficult question to answer. Perhaps I can think more on this and get back with you as my thoughts form into something more logical being as I’m feeling a bit flustered at the moment.”

Sawyer touched Sarah’s arm and noted that her breathing quickened.

“Why are you flustered? Am I making you uncomfortable?”

Sarah’s face flushed and she averted her eyes to the floor. “Can I speak openly?”

Sawyer found Sarah’s question strange, but gave his approval. “Of course.”

“Because of you, Mr. Morrison, but it’s not discomfort that I’m feeling. It’s been a long time since I’ve been this close to a man who wasn’t my Sir. I thought I would be better composed, but I’m finding myself aroused by your curiosity and dominance, yet, I’m feeling incredibly guilty at the same time. Perhaps another submissive would be better suited for you,” she stammered out.

Sawyer leaned in and guided her to look at him. “My dear Snowflake, I understand about the guilt you’re feeling. I’m not looking to replace your husband. My apologies. Your Master. I simply want to learn from you. There is no one at this time that is better suited to show me the ropes than you. And if you’re not comfortable calling me Sir, then by all means, keep calling me Mr. Morrison. It has a nice ring and if I can speak freely, I find it nothing less than charming coming from your mouth.”

Sarah’s eyes lit the dim room and her mouth parted with a sharp intake of air. “A true Dominant also knows the value of the spoken word. His words are chosen carefully with full awareness of their consequences, and he respects their power. And your words, Mr. Morrison, hold great power.”

Sawyer’s core temperature rose and he feared that Sarah would be offended by his obvious attraction to her.

Dylan stood and calmly spoke. “I’ll leave you two to discuss more on your own. At this stage in the game, only conversation is allowed, Morrison, but Sarah knows the rules of engagement.”

Without saying anything more, Dylan excused himself.

Sawyer immediately turned his attention back to Sarah. “There are so many questions I had planned on asking today, but now faced with the situation, I find myself at a loss for words.”

Relaxing into the soft leather, Sarah began talking openly. “Since I’m not sure what you’ve read or been told, I’ll tell you what submission is to me and probably most, if not all submissives. It’s more than sexual experience, Mr. Morrison. It’s a bond so powerful that it contains the very soul of the submissive. A man’s domination and acceptance of the gift of submission is the greatest expression of love I believe there to be.”

Sudden synapses began to fire in Sawyer’s brain. This woman sitting in front of him knew so much more than him. It seemed everyone around him did. Dylan, Isabel… how could he have not known about this his entire life? With his eyebrows pinched together, he tried to formulate an articulate question to ask, but he still found himself unable to speak.

Sara leaned back, exhaling with tension. “I’m preaching. I don’t mean to. Tell me what interested you in becoming a Dom.”

“Dylan and Isabel.”

“Yes, they’re an interesting couple, aren’t they? I remember Dylan back in his hey-day when he was training submissives. It’s beautiful to see how he’s changed for Isabel.”

“Yes, they are interesting. I remember him, too. He was quite cocky. Not to say that he still isn’t.”

“You work with him, right?”

“Yes. Actually, we’re not just business associates anymore; I keep forgetting that. I worked for him for so long that it’s strange being equal partners now.”

Sarah’s faint smile broadened. “Congratulations on that. You must be proud of yourself.”

“Proud? No, I wouldn’t say proud. It was sort of forced on me. I am grateful, though. It means a bigger paycheck. Even though, with more money comes more problems, I’m told.” Suddenly aware of his rambling, he cleared his throat. “I’m bragging when I don’t mean to.”

“A humble Dom is a respected Dom, Mr. Morrison. And you weren’t at all bragging.”

* * *

The rest of their conversation was informative and friendly, though Sarah did most of the talking. Sawyer found himself appreciative of everything she had shared and her openness. When he looked at his watch, more than two hours had passed. The time had flown and Sawyer didn’t want their conversation to end. He had enjoyed Sarah’s company. Heading back to the social area, he was greeted by Isabel.

She was beaming and her toothy smile reached from ear-to-ear. “So how was it? Did you like Sarah? I picked her. Isn’t she a doll? Oh, Sawyer, tell me everything!”

“Jesus, Isa, let the man breathe,” Dylan chastised.

“I picked her. I just want that to be said. I know Dylan will try and take all the credit on that.”

“You also picked Sonya, remember?” Dylan huffed.

“That was just mean,” Isa pouted.

Sawyer seated himself next to Isabel at the bar. “She was very nice. Thanks, Isabel. You did a good job; even picking Sonya.”

Dylan rolled his eyes and gulped down his tea. “Yeah, yeah. Let’s get this party started. I’m itching to whip a certain someone,” he tugged on Isabel’s hair.

“Yes, it will be a whipping good time. See what I did there, Dylan? Whipping good time?” she giggled, mocking his constant lame wordplay jokes.

Dylan lifted a threatening eyebrow at Isabel. “Are you making fun of me?”

Isabel immediately remembered her place. “Sorry, Master.”

Though they were switches in the privacy of their bedroom, in public, Dylan was the Master. Only once had Dylan given her the reins in public and that was in Paris on their honeymoon. In Denver, at their club of choice, he dealt out the punishment and pleasure.

Sawyer had never actually seen them perform before and nervous apprehension began to creep up on him. He knew the kinds of things they did from the private footage that was leaked to the media by Isabel’s father. It was hard getting the images from those exploits out of his head, but seeing their activity up close and personal… he wasn’t sure he could go through with it. Isabel was a masochist to Dylan’s sadist and even though what they did was consensual and supposedly safe and sane, Sawyer was never fond of the idea of doling out pain to a woman. To a man who deserved it, sure, but not a woman.

Dylan and Isabel disappeared for a few minutes to get things set up when Sarah reappeared.

“I thought I’d stay to watch Dylan and Isabel. Have you seen them scene before?”

Sawyer lifted his eyebrows in acknowledgment and smiled. “Yes and no.”

“A man of few words.”

The double meaning of Sarah’s statement wasn’t lost on him and though her tone was playful, the implication was anything but.  The expression on her face gave away the frustration she was trying to disguise, and it wasn’t the first time a look or comment like that had been directed at him. Both Serena and Sonya had told him numerous times he was too emotionally distant.

“Communication, Mr. Morrison. We need to work on that with you. It’s a very important part of being a Dom.”

“Well aren’t you the officious little submissive,” he raised his eyebrows.

Sarah’s eyes widened and her mouth opened. “I didn’t mean that to be disrespectful.”

Shaking his head, he placed his hand on her shoulder. “I didn’t take it that way. You’re right. I do need to communicate more. Hopefully you can help me work on that.”

She immediately let out a sigh of relief and Sawyer fought the urge to pull her close and plant his mouth on her fire-engine red pouting lips.  He was starting to like this new role and the effect his words had on Sarah.

Dylan laid the leather across Isabel’s bare stomach in one quick motion, leaving a red streak on her supple, pale skin. She was dressed in only tight-fitting, waist-high shorts and a satin bra, and he was stripped down to his black slacks and barefoot. The setting was intimate with only a handful of onlookers in the small niche. Nina Simone, Sinner Man, played softly while Dylan moved in rhythm to the beat.

Sawyer was mesmerized by the way Dylan’s eyes were trained on Isabel as he moved around her stealthily, all the while power and dominance exuding from every pore as he took control of her.

Sawyer had feared he wouldn’t be able to stomach the scene, but it was proving hard to look away from. No, he still didn’t like the idea of causing someone as beautiful as Isabel pain, but just because it wasn’t his kink, he wasn’t going to judge someone else on their preferences.

Isabel’s amber eyes fluttered open and closed, and her tongue slicked across her mouth causing an obvious erection on Dylan’s part. Her body swung hypnotically from the suspension rig, the chains jangling noisily. As Sawyer’s probing brown eyes took in the details of her body, unwanted lascivious thoughts popped into his head, filling him with guilt. He never felt a physical attraction toward Isabel, but seeing her so compliant and captivatingly submissive stirred his sexual desires. He looked away, trying to contain his unwanted physical reaction.

“I’m neither a masochist nor a sadist, Mr. Morrison, but I try to keep an open mind with regards to all things sexual. May I politely suggest that you do the same?” Sarah whispered into his ear.

Focusing on her, his mouth formed into a tight smile. “It’s not that I’m being closed-minded. It’s just that I’m feeling…” he stopped himself.

She squeezed his bicep as she continued to lean into his ear, her breath felt on his cheek.

“Oh, I see. It’s normal to feel aroused. It’s a natural response to what you’re seeing and just shows you have a healthy libido and imagination.”

Her electrical touch took his mind off of Isabel and he was thankful for it. Feeling better after Sarah’s reassurance, he turned to watch the scene again. He watched as Dylan circled around Isabel, flicking the whip across various parts of her body as she squealed out her approval and pulled against her restraints. Sawyer just didn’t get it. Why would someone want to be hurt in such a way or cause pain to someone you love?