How to Train Your Dom in Five Easy Steps

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Authors: Josephine Myles

Tags: #gay for you, #British, #English, #kink, #BDSM, #novice dominant, #male submissive, #male dominant, #training, #figging, #fisting, #bondage, #public humiliation, #violet wand, #sensation play, #wax play, #CBT, #spanking, #flogging, #sadomasochism, #gay romance, #erotic romance, #erotica, #humour, #humor

BOOK: How to Train Your Dom in Five Easy Steps
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Sometimes the little head really does know best.

Jeff White’s needs are simple. All he wants is a submissive to help him explore the dominant side that his ex-girlfriend couldn’t handle. Problem is, inexperience in both dating and domming has resulted in a string of rejections.

What he needs is an experienced sub willing to show him the ins and outs of controlling a scene. Unfortunately, the only one willing to take him on is male, and Jeff is straight. One hundred percent, never-gonna-happen straight.

Easygoing painslut Eddie Powell doesn’t care that Jeff is younger, working class, and shorter. Eddie likes a bit of rough, and Jeff fits the bill perfectly. The trick will be convincing him to follow Eddie’s five-step training programme—which would be easy if Eddie wasn’t starting to have feelings for the rough-around-the-edges landscaper.

Once Jeff lays his hands on Eddie, things definitely get out of hand. But it’ll take more than hot, sweaty, kinky sex to persuade him to come out of the closet—especially to himself.

Warning: Contains a happy sub, a confused Dom, a high ratio of sex to plot, misuse of root ginger, and a suitcase of kink. Written in Jo’s usual exceedingly “English” English.

How to Train Your Dom in Five Easy Steps

Josephine Myles

Dedication

For the original “Sir Bastard”. Your assistance was invaluable!

Thanks also to Prue Tremayne, Kristin, Lou Harper, JL Merrow, Steve Craftman and my editor, Linda. Your feedback has helped shape this novel into something better than I’d ever imagined when I first came up with this porny little idea that just wouldn’t go away…

Chapter One

Eddie gasped as the man he’d been waiting for came into view. Oh yes. Jeff White was everything Eddie looked for in a man—as far as he could tell from this distance, anyway. Broad shouldered, swarthy, built. He ticked all the physical boxes and then some.

“There he is.” Maddy tipped her head as if Eddie hadn’t yet noticed him. He’d had his nose practically glued to the kitchen window for the last twenty minutes, hoping for a glimpse of the elusive wannabe Dom. He’d made breath marks on the glass, for Christ’s sake.

Jeff was out working in the ridiculously oversize garden, doing something with paving slabs, as far as Eddie could make out. Eddie leaned on the breakfast bar, taking in the way Jeff moved, hefting the heavy stone slabs like they were made of polystyrene. As far as Eddie was concerned, that kind of strength could only be an asset in a top. He could just imagine those bulging arms pushing him down to his knees and grabbing hold of his hair. Yummy. Eddie made an appreciative noise. “So far, I like what I’m seeing. Niall’s wrong. He’s not too low rent for me.” They were sitting in Niall’s kitchen, but the man himself was nowhere to be seen. Maybe Maddy had worn him out already. She had a well-sated gleam in her eyes.

But right now she was eyeing up Jeff White. “He definitely looks better in the overalls than he did at the last Fetish Club social. He turned up in double denim, and I’m not talking indigo, which he might just have managed to get away with. I’m talking grungy old stonewashed jeans and a black denim bomber jacket.”

Eddie pondered this crime against fashion and its stocky perpetrator. “The overalls are kind of sexy, though. Especially all muddy like that.”

“Maybe he should turn up in those next time. Can’t imagine it will make much difference to his chances, though. No one’s going to give him the time of day, after what Gwen told us.”

“He didn’t do anything that awful.”

Maddy made a face. “Maybe not, but he’s also a bit of a short-arse, hairy as a gorilla, and he’s absolutely crap at small talk. And let’s face it, there’s more than enough straight Doms to go around. Some days I can’t seem to move without tripping over some arsehole who wants to tie girls up and beat them. We can afford to be choosy.”

Eddie sighed. “Wish it was as easy for me.” He didn’t have any direct experience of the straight BDSM scene, but according to Maddy, it was brimming with men—dominants, submissives and switches—with precious few women to go around.

“Oh come on, darling. You never seem to have a problem finding a Dom.”

“I’m not saying it’s not easy enough to get a good seeing to, but I still haven’t found anyone I’d actually want to have a relationship with.”

“Who needs a relationship? Totally overrated. I like being a free agent.” Maddy grinned and went for Eddie’s half-eaten croissant. “Are you planning on finishing that?”

“You’re a bloody dustbin, you are.” Eddie shoved the plate in his friend’s direction and watched her set to work on the croissant. “Anyway, you can talk. You’ve been seeing Niall for ages now.”

Maddy shrugged. “Yeah, but it’s not like we’re exclusive or anything. And I’ve still got my own place. I can come and go as I please. Suits us both fine.”

“Sounds like you’ve got him well trained.”

Maddy just grinned and winked.

Eddie turned back to watch Jeff. He was doing something with a bucket of cement, and he’d stripped the overalls down to his waist. Shame there was a T-shirt underneath, but it was only half nine in the morning. Perhaps he’d strip properly as the day warmed up. Or perhaps Eddie had him confused with a model.

“I always had a thing for working men,” he said, admiring the obvious strength in Jeff’s legs. “Builders, mechanics, whatever. My sister had this poster up of this gorgeous bloke—”

“I know the one. Black-and-white with the guy stripped down to the waist?”

“You had it too?”

Maddy rolled her eyes. “Didn’t bloody everyone for a while?”

“I never did. Stuck to footballers and rugby players until I was sixteen.” It had taken him that long to come out to his family, but in the end he’d wished he’d done it sooner. There was a total lack of surprise or concern about his big, terrifying revelation. “After that, I went mental with the porn star pinups, but Belinda made me put stickers over any naked dicks and arseholes. She said she didn’t want the girls seeing any of that sort of thing until they were a bit older. I told her they shouldn’t have been in my room in the first place.” He loved his step-mum and half sisters dearly, but he hadn’t exactly wanted them snooping around in his bedroom once he’d hit puberty.

There was something about Jeff that was vaguely reminiscent of one of those blokes he’d stuck up on his wall all those years ago. He had the closely cropped hair, thick neck and broad shoulders of Eddie’s favourite porn stars. From across the lawn, it was hard to get a really good look at Jeff’s face, but as far as Eddie was concerned, a few laughter lines would be a bonus. Made him feel younger in comparison, which had to be a good thing now he was approaching his mid-thirties. “Thirty-four still counts as early thirties, doesn’t it?”

Maddy shook her head. “Face it, babe. You’re getting on a bit.”

“So are you, then.” They’d been in the same year at school.

“Yeah, but I don’t give a shit. And I’m still looking hot.”

Eddie had to give it to her. She was. Maddy had always been a tall, awkward teenager who carried a fair bit of extra weight, but at some point in the last ten years, she’d slimmed right down. Now she worked as a personal shopper for women with way too much money to throw away on clothes, and looked like some kind of celebrity, in her designer shades and fancy tracksuit.

“Thought you were supposed to be exercising, anyway. Not troughing pastries.”

“It’s fine. I’ll run it all off.” But Maddy did put the croissant down with a sigh, and Eddie picked it right back up again.

“Mmm, delicious. Your boyfriend has good taste. You sure he doesn’t want to take me on as a second sub? I’d totally respect your place in the hierarchy.”

Maddy snorted. “As if. You’re the least respectful sub I’ve ever met. And you’re not getting your hands back on him, anyway. You had your chance, and you blew it.”

“I blew
him
, you mean.”

Maddy flipped him one very well-manicured finger.

“Who blew who?” Niall asked, wandering into the kitchen wearing the most eye-bending shirt Eddie had seen in a long time.

“No one,” Maddy said, while Eddie drawled, “Me blowing you.”

Niall just smiled and walked up to Maddy, giving her a kiss on the cheek. “Hey, gorgeous, good to see you still around. And you, Eddie.”

“I had to hang on for Eddie’s sake,” Maddy said. “He wanted to check out Jeff and see if he could help him out with his little problem.”

“What problem?”

Was Niall being deliberately obtuse? “The whole Dom-training thing. I reckon I’d be the perfect sub for him to practice on.”

Niall stared at him with those unsettling pale blue eyes. “You do know he’s straight?”

“Wouldn’t be the first otherwise straight bloke to fall for my charms.” Eddie winked, and Niall got a faraway look, like he was remembering something from their very brief time together. Eddie hoped it was that time he had Eddie in a sling in a club and fucked him stupid while everyone watched.

Niall blinked and came to. “Look, I’ve known Jeff since he was still wet behind the ears. He’s never shown even the slightest hint of being that way inclined.”

“So you’re saying I should go and flirt with him first? Test the waters?”

“You might get a punch in the face for your trouble. No. Let me go and ask him first. But be warned, he’s going to say no.”

“And then I’ll persuade him otherwise.”

Niall and Maddy were both giving him the full benefit of their raised eyebrows. “What? I’ll have you both know I could sell sand to the Bedouin. But you do your introductions first, and then I’ll mosey on out. Can’t hurt, can it?”

“Famous last words,” Niall muttered before heading out of the back door.

Chapter Two

Jeff moved the last paving stone into place and stood up carefully. He couldn’t afford to put his back out again—he’d lost a whole two weeks of work the last time, as well as pissing off one client so much they went to one of his rivals instead. Being self-employed was great in many ways, but the lack of any sick pay was a real bugger. You had to look after yourself when you were your own boss.

Thinking of which, Jeff rolled his shoulders and stretched before going through a couple of the exercises the physio had shown him. Always made him feel like a bit of a prat, but at least no one could see him down here at the end of Niall’s garden.

He glanced up at the house and froze. Two faces stared out at him from the kitchen window. He couldn’t focus on them with the sun in his eyes, but it must have been Niall and his missus. You’d have thought the lazy bastard would have at least come out to offer Jeff a cuppa. Or sent Maddy out. Although, despite being Niall’s sub, she didn’t seem to do any of that domestic-service type thing. Pity. Jeff rather liked the idea of having a slave to see to his every creature comfort.

Jeff eased out of the stretch, trying to make it look like he’d been doing something gardening related. Inspecting the rose bushes. Actually, that was something Niall really did need seeing to. It was all very well sorting out the hard landscaping, but if the plants were a mess, who’d actually want to stroll around the garden on the brand-new path?

“Jeff, mate!” Niall’s hearty tones rang out across the lawn. He was standing at the open conservatory doors, but the two faces were still peering out of the kitchen window. “Fancy a coffee?”

“Nah, but a cuppa would be good.” Jeff sat on the low brick wall of the raised flowerbed, basking in the sunshine and peeking through his lowered eyelids at his mystery audience. Did Maddy have a friend round? Niall had promised he’d find Jeff someone who was up for a bit of erotic punishment and humiliation. After all, there must be a kinky bird somewhere who hadn’t heard about the incident. Or even if they had, who wouldn’t be put off by it.

Could have happened to anyone. And how was he meant to improve if no one would let him practice on them?

Jeff shaded his eyes and peered up at the house. Yes, there was Maddy with her sleek black bob, and there was her friend.

Oh, it was just some bloke. Jeff peered at him for a moment, trying to figure out if it was anyone he knew. Niall moved in different social circles to him—the only reason they even knew each other was Niall had sold Jeff his house all those years ago, and for some reason, they’d hit it off—but Jeff had met one or two of Niall’s other friends over the years.

This bloke didn’t look like one of Niall’s estate agent buddies, though. He had a boyish look about him, what with his fair hair and big smile. Tall, though. He stood about a head taller than Maddy. Seemed to be a good friend of Maddy’s, as the two of them were now laughing. The sound carried from out of the open window and down to the end of the garden. Maddy’s dirty chuckle combined with a deeper, infectious kind of laugh.

Bloody hell, if Jeff were Niall, he wouldn’t let his girlfriend hang around laughing like that with such a good-looking bloke. Still, Jeff didn’t pretend to understand the so-called open relationship those two had. Was Maddy sleeping with this new bloke? Jeff looked at him with fresh interest. He didn’t look like any of the Doms at the local group—didn’t have long black hair and piercings, for a start—but you never knew. Niall didn’t look all that typical either.

Niall proved Jeff’s point by heading out into the garden in the most god-awful Hawaiian shirt Jeff had ever seen. It was a mishmash of greens, reds and golds, and featured pineapples, hula dancers and palm trees.

“Bloody hell, you trying to blind me or something?” Jeff took the cup he was offered.

“Got it on holiday,” Niall said. He’d brought back a nice case of sunburn from the Seychelles too.

“You should have left it there. I’m surprised customs let you bring it through.”

Niall chuckled. “Next time, I won’t bother bringing you a present.”

“You shouldn’t. That stuff was rank.” Niall went on holiday every other month, it seemed, and he always brought back Jeff some of the local booze. When it was beer or wine, that was fine, but this time it had been some awful sweet liqueur. Jeff had added it to the cupboard where he stashed all of Niall’s more dubious gifts. “I’m going to have to hold a cocktail party or something to use all the nasty stuff up. Hey, maybe we could make it a kinky cocktail party. You know any girls who might come?”

Niall snorted. “You, having a cocktail party? You know you have to provide sophisticated nibbles and actually follow drinks recipes? If you’re going to have a party, you’d best stick to what you’re good at. Beer and peanuts.”

“You’re saying peanuts and pork scratchings aren’t sophisticated nibbles?”

“And you wonder why you can’t get a girlfriend,” Niall deadpanned.

“It’s not that I can’t get a girlfriend. It’s that I can’t get the right kind of girlfriend.” For some reason, the kind of women who went for Jeff were the overconfident ones. The ones who intimidated him. “Besides, she needs to be kinky.”

“Sandi’s into you. You should give her a go.”

“Sandi’s a bit…extreme.” Why couldn’t the women who were into BDSM look more normal? Jeff had never been attracted to alternative types, and every time he went to one of the local fetish club meetings, all the women seemed to have weird-coloured hair, be covered in tattoos and had their skin punctured all over the place. They looked like patterned pincushions, and try as he might, someone who looked like they’d fallen out of a sewing basket just didn’t turn him on. “I don’t mind the tight leather miniskirts and the big boots, but Sandi’s kind of scary too. And she’s definitely more of a Domme, even though she says she switches. Why? Would you do her?”

Niall pulled a face. “I don’t think she’d let me even if I wanted to.”

“Exactly. And you don’t want to. So, did you find me anyone else yet?”

Niall grinned in a sharklike way that wasn’t entirely reassuring. “Actually, now you come to mention it, I have found someone who’s interested in meeting you. And amazingly enough, that’s even after hearing about what happened with Gwen.”

“What the hell did you have to go and tell her that for?”

“Jeff, chill. It’s fine. I wanted to find you someone really experienced who’d know how to deal with your, uh,
issues
.”

Issues-schmissues. “There’s nothing wrong with me. I just haven’t been able to find the right girl yet.” And when he did, his little soldier would leap to attention again, he was sure. And this time he wouldn’t fire his load prematurely either.

Niall held his hands up. “Whatever you say, mate. I just thought you’d be better off with someone who knew the score. BDSM works much better when you’re honest with your partner.”

“I’m always honest.”

“I know you always say exactly what you’re thinking, but that’s not necessarily the same thing.”

Fuck knew what Niall was on about now. Jeff decided to concentrate on the more pressing questions. “What’s she like? Is she pretty? No, that’s not all that important. She’s got to like pain, though. I mean
really
like it. It’s no fun hurting girls who don’t get a kick out of it. In fact, it’s kind of painful.” Jeff rubbed his jaw, remembering the well-aimed punch he’d received from one girl who most definitely didn’t get a kick out of it.

“Don’t worry. I’ve only been looking at total painsluts.”

Jeff nodded approvingly. He’d come to this BDSM thing relatively late in life, after suppressing all those urges for most of his twenties while he was with Sarah. But after Sarah moved out last summer, all bets were off. Luckily, Niall had been around to help him through that whole readjustment period, and when Jeff admitted he was interested in the lifestyle, Niall had taken him along to the local fetish social club to meet others. Well, he’d called it a club. Really it was just a bunch of weirdos who met up in a pub in Frome once a month. Nothing exciting going on, unless you had a fetish for overpriced beer.

Unfortunately for Jeff, he just didn’t fancy any of the women Niall had introduced him to so far, and to be honest, it seemed like the feeling was mutual. Why couldn’t they just leave their bodies alone, rather than marking them with all those tattoos? Jeff wanted to be the one to leave marks on their skin and stick needles into them. If someone else had been their first, it was off-putting. And kind of intimidating too, not that he’d ever admit that to anyone.

After a couple of spectacularly unsuccessful dates with women he’d met through Niall, Jeff tried a different tactic. But introducing kink into dates with the vanilla women he met through a local dating agency had proved disastrous. He’d tried suggesting it in conversation over dinner several times, but quickly learnt that most birds looked at you like you were one sick puppy if you admitted that what really turned you on was the idea of hurting them. Yep, he’d had a fair few dates that ended in women running away and telling him to lose their phone numbers. One had even done that before he got to the kinky bit of the conversation, saying he was a rude arsehole. All he’d done was tell her that the frilly dress she was wearing made her look like an old-fashioned doll, and that she’d be sexier in something sleek and tight. Honestly, women could be so bloody sensitive sometimes.

He’d tried waiting until he got them in bed too—after all, people went on these dates for a shag, didn’t they? Even the women did, despite pretending they were after friendship rather than sex. Unfortunately, Jeff had discovered that most normal-looking women ran a mile when you started calling them a dirty bitch and pinching their tits. Probably Jeff should have waited till the second date before starting on all that, but then again, he hadn’t wanted to waste time and effort on dating someone who wasn’t going to share his special interests.

But if Niall had found someone perfect for him…

“Come on, spill the beans. You got a picture of her? I don’t want some goth girl. You promised me natural hair colour and no tattoos. Or at least just a small butterfly or something.”

“Eddie has completely natural hair and just one very small tattoo. No piercings either, so you’re safe there. Pretty fit too. Works out regularly.” Niall’s smile was still odd.

“What’s the catch? There has to be one. She’s not a real doormat is she?” Wet and clingy just wasn’t his thing. Jeff might find some women way too intimidating, but the opposite was no more appealing. “Come on, what’s she like?”

“Other than being a very experienced and kinky painslut? Eddie’s a graphic designer. Pretty successful. Own business, own place. Good sense of humour. Fun.”

“Sounds perfect. Where’s she been hiding all my life? You got a picture of her? And what’s Eddie short for? Edwina?”

“Edmund.”

“Edmund? Jesus, some parents are so fucking cruel. Edmund isn’t a unisex name, is it?”

“No, but then again, Edmund isn’t a girl.”

What the fuck? “Niall, what are you saying?”

“I’m saying Edmund is a very nice young masochist with years of experience, and he’s willing to let you hone your Dom skills on him. You can practice all kinds of pain and sensation play, humiliate him, tie him up, stick things up his arse, whatever. He’ll do just about anything. I’m not saying he’s got no limits, but I don’t know that anyone’s ever managed to get close to them.”

“I am not having sex with a man.”

“Who said anything about sex? BDSM is more about the power play than getting your rocks off.”

“For you, maybe. For me, it’s about sex.”

Niall shook his head. “You’re missing the whole point of it, but you’ll learn over time.”

“You know you can be a right patronising git sometimes, don’t you?”

“Takes one to know one.”

Jeff smiled reluctantly. It was hard to be mad at someone who’d just bought you a bottle of booze, even if it was something sickly sweet.

But that still didn’t change the way he felt about this Eddie fella. “Look, I appreciate the offer and all, but I need a female sub. End of story. There’s no way I’m whipping some bloke’s arse. It just wouldn’t feel right.”

“You sure? I’d have thought you’d be better able to concentrate on learning how to do things properly if you weren’t ridiculously turned on. You know, your little brain has a way of overpowering your big one. Not that it puts up much of a fight.”

“You saying I’m thick?”

Niall punched him in the arm. “You said it. Not me.”

Jeff glared at his former friend.

“Oh, all right,” Niall relented. “You’re not thick. Maybe it’s just because you’ve been out of the game for so long, but you act like an oversexed predator when you’re chatting women up. Way too sexually aggressive too fast. You’ve got to learn to tone it down. Act more like you’re in control. No sub’s going to feel safe with an out-of-control Dom.”

“I am in control!”

“That’s not what Gwen’s been saying. Believe me, your name is mud right now.”

“Cheeky mare.” Jeff could have a few choice words to say about her gossiping, but since he really didn’t want to rehash the whole embarrassing incident, he kept his mouth shut.

“So, you want to meet Eddie? Just to talk. See how you feel after that.”

“Not particularly. I’m not gay, so chatting with the bloke isn’t going to make any difference, is it?”

“What am I going to do with you, eh?” Niall sighed and took hold of Jeff’s empty cup. “All right, then. Have it your way. But I’m warning you, I don’t think any of the girls round here are going to want to have anything to do with you. They’ve been chatting about you on Fetlife. You know how fast gossip spreads there. You’re going to need to set up a new profile and start over.”

Fuck. Ah well. What did Jeff need that stupid bloody site for anyway? It wasn’t like he’d had any luck approaching women there either. This whole bloody thing was getting too complicated. All he wanted to do was submit a normal-looking woman to erotic torture and then shag the living daylights out of her. Was that really too much to ask? Jeff glowered at the paving slabs he’d been laying.

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