Writing Doms

by Cari Silverwood

Well, there you have it – writing AND Doms. Which means fiction. So now you have to decide if you want to appeal to your readers or not…you do? Right. That makes it easier. Doms are just men, of course. Which means IRL they can have just as many daft ideas as any man, or woman. They aren’t perfect, they do lie, they get gas, had acne when they were teenagers, and I’ll bet half of them have left a trail of unhappy women behind them.

But, but buuut, I hear some of you wail, that’s not like my hero Dom. For sure, but fiction is fiction.  Does that mean there are no wonderful men out there in real life who make wonderful Doms? Heck, of course there are. But they still have flaws. They are at their core, simply men who like being in control, sometimes that’s mostly in the bedroom, sometimes not.

But what do you put in your book? You, the author, gets to decide that. When you make any character in a story, you get to throw into the mix what you think you need. When writing a Dom, you just have to make sure they can still be the ideal partner for your heroine if they are the ‘hero’. We need to learn to love our partners, flaws and all. In fact in a story, it can make for so much more tension if you have those flaws to work around and perhaps even cause that black moment.

So what is it that distinguishes a Dom from another alpha male then? Not a lot, in my opinion. Like a lot of human ‘things’ or labels there is a sliding scale. Given sufficient permission by their women, a lot of alpha men would slip into Dom mode.

Certain ingredients will give you a bonafide Dom for your story. A need for control, a positive reveling in the sight of a submissive kneeling and doing as they are told. They will listen to your desires, your needs, the things that turn you on, and then they’ll take those wants of yours and crank up the tension. Safewords are for when the Dom goes just that little too far. But most of the time the submissive revels in obeying because it’s all part of the power exchange.

If you give an average alpha man instructions on what you want to happen beforehand, they may do these things to turn you on. With a Dom, expect that to go a little beyond, or to take a right angle turn into foreign territory. A Dom will like to push you. If they’re sadistic, they like to hear you squeal as well as moan. If they are simply into dominance, they like to see you not just on your knees, but licking your way up their leg to their cock. They want you on the bed with your legs spread, waiting.

An alpha will pin you against a wall and kiss you until you’re breathless. A Dom will step away and tell you to face the wall, clasp your hands together, put your arms above your head and stay there while they undo their trousers. Or maybe you’ll get to undo the zip with your teeth.

If you go too far, if your ‘Dom’ does something really wrong, like ignoring a safeword, or ignoring the feelings of his submissive, you end up with an asshole bully instead. In real life, maybe they can redeem themselves, like the Dom who insisted his submissive kneel despite knee surgery that made it agonizing for her…maybe he redeemed himself. Unlikely though.

So take care how far they go in that story. Make them human beings above all. They can be sexy controlling bastards who give your heroine a million orgasms, but always make them human.

Here’s Leonhardt from my novel, Rough Surrender, showing his Dom side.

                                                                       

The gold cords weighed heavily on her fingers as she went back into the bathroom. Mr. Meisner sat on the chair like a judge waiting for his next case...her. What was he planning? She could tell he meant to unsettle her. Well, no one had ever called her a pushover. She set her jaw.

“Here, Faith.” He held out his hand.

She gave him the cords and saw how he unraveled them while judging her reaction. It was amazing how quickly her pussy heated. All those words for her anatomy, and she sure remembered them. Cunt, cunny, cleft, vagina...dark and dirty, and my, oh, my, she liked this whole thing. Except, maybe, when he went careering off course, like now.

“Your wrist, love.”

Blinking, sure she teetered on a precipice and this dad-blasted man intended to give her a right good shove, she gave him her wrist. He urged her around until she faced away from him then took her other wrist too. Again, with the tying of her hands at her back, and she closed her eyes to savor the odd, yet delicious, want in her for handing him control. Her clitoris swelled, as if it had a mind of its own. She couldn’t help taking a deep breath at the surge of pleasure, at the scattered tingle as places woke and longed for more of his touch.

“Good,” he said, and his hand curved over her bottom, appreciating every inch, or so it seemed. She swayed, and let her tongue tip venture out onto her lip when his hand went between her legs and stayed there, like it belonged in just that place, like he had a right to be there. Oh. Yes.

“Wet,” he murmured. “Now you can kneel.”

With a hand on her elbow to steady her, Mr. Meisner helped her kneel on the towel. Standing over her with his cock an inch away, he carefully twined her hair round and round and anchored his hand within. So firm she might have been in a vice, and with her hands behind her he could do what he wished.

“How does that feel, Faith?” he asked quietly.

She looked up at him and sank into those brown eyes, floating away with the sensation of being dominated. Her tongue and brain were miles from each other. Words and thoughts mired, and tangled. A reply would spoil the moment. She shook her head as much as his grip allowed her to.

“That’s better. Lovely.” He bent down and kissed her long enough to send everything spinning. When he raised himself again, her lips were bruised and her heartbeat erratic.

“I’m going to put my cock in your mouth. Use lips, not teeth. See if you can take it all in, after a while. When I come, you’ll get a mouthful. So don’t be surprised.”

His hand held her even firmer as the head of his cock found her mouth. She opened wide then watched as it glided between her lips. She felt the strange soft, hardness poke along her tongue and then withdraw. A taste like skin, but deeper, richer.

Shutting her eyes let her feel more. She was pleasuring him the same as he’d done to her. His flesh pushed in, invaded her mouth, withdrew.

“Use your tongue,” he murmured. At the huskiness in his voice she risked a glance at his face. Mr. Meisner had a look of utter concentration. She curled her tongue and swirled all along the length as his cock cruised past. In, suck, swirl, out... He drew a long, sibilant breath and sped up the thrusts into her mouth. She twisted her hands in the cord. When she relaxed her throat, he grunted and his hands tightened in her hair. 

Yes, she could do this.

He pulled out and tilted up her head.

What now? She looked back at him while licking the taste off her lips. He chuckled, then bent down, picked her up and slung her over his shoulder. With hands tied behind her and head downward at his back, she could only wriggle.

“Mr. Meisner! Put me down.” She hissed the words through her teeth.

“Don’t move!” he smacked her once on the bottom. The sting shot through her.

“Ow!” But she stilled--landing headfirst on the floor because he’d dropped her seemed unwise. Besides, that smack had hurt.

Four or five strides and he plonked her onto the bed. More pillows were sorted, only this time he set her up with her head down and nearly dangling off the bed.

“I figured we needed you a bit more distracted, my dear. Open your mouth.”

Damnation, what was it this time? She scowled up at him but he inserted his cock into her mouth again. Only this time she felt his hand slipping along her cleft. The way he skated his fingers up and down while he pushed in and out of her mouth made her forget precisely where her tongue was, and soon, altogether which bit was anywhere, except she needed to moan and suck at the same time.

She arched her mound at his mouth or whatever part of him played wet games down there. He was inside her mouth and her pussy at the same time. As his cock forced its way in, so did fingers and tongue. She gasped around him and hummed, tried to spread her legs, clenched and tried to free her hands from where they lay under her back, and couldn’t. The throbbing heat, the slip and juicy slide almost undid her. She tensed, bowing upward as much as she could. With one last thrust, Mr. Meisner stopped with his cock as deep as it would go.

And here’s a little excerpt from Steel Dominance that is on the last few days of rewrites before it goes to my publisher.

Her voice trailed off. “Not…not here…” She pushed at his shoulders only to have him whip his other hand from behind her back, catch both her wrists and hold them to the wall above her head.

“Yes. Here.” Then he watched her as carefully as a bug collector observing a strange new butterfly while he wormed his hand between them and pushed a finger inside her.

Though she’d never seen anyone in this secluded place the possibility was there, and that both horrified and excited her. How perverted am I? No one normal would want this. But her breaths came faster and wetness cascaded from her slit with each in and out slide of his digit. Slowly waves of need stirred—making her shudder. Knowledge thumped into her—he held her pinned, helpless, with her legs spread by his.

She tried again to move her hands, but they might have been cemented there.

It seemed right to protest. “Let me go!”

Dankyo stepped away until her legs slipped from his thighs and she stood straining on tiptoe with her arms above.

“Let you go? Those words again? You know where we are, now. How it is.” Dark amusement colored his voice.  He pulled his finger from her and played with her clit, circling it as if it were a new toy. “Those words don’t work, Sofia. I have your yes. Until you take that away, you are mine. So I can do this.” He added a finger and thrust two of them up into her. “Or this.” The third joined them, sliding, finding its way between her swollen labia, stretching her vagina in an exquisite way.

Her mouth fell open in a gasp.

Without conscious thought, her hips tilted, as if she begged for more.

But I am begging. I want…

Another thrust went straight in full depth until the knuckle of his unburied finger touched her lips and his thumb bumped her clit. Then his hand beneath her shoved her a whole inch up the wall.

“Uh!” She shut her eyes.

She moaned and let herself dangle there, supported by his hand between her legs, her toenails barely scraping the ground. Him fucking her while he observed, and while he knew she was a heartbeat from saying no, made her want this even more.

“That’s…beautiful.” The male baritone depth made her jerk her eyes open.

His eyes narrowed. A smile grew as he surveyed her from her face to her breasts and then downward to where his gaze lingered at the split of her legs where he’d speared inside. More liquid spilled from her over his hand.

“Move,” she croaked, then panted some more, and did a little wiggle as she tested the iron grip on her wrists. Her walls clamped down on the hardness of his fingers.

Dankyo chuckled. “Move?” Then he came closer, covering her struggling body with his. “Be quiet.” As if to punctuate his command, he clamped his teeth on her ear lobe. The sting shocked her into stillness. “You don’t get a say in what I do. Not at all.”
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