Make Me (4 page)

Linda

I manage to stay out of his way after the embarrassing run-in with him. I do what I always do when I don’t want to think about something—I work. I know I have to go to the club later and I am actually looking forward to seeing what kind of establishment he owns as it will tell me a lot about him. Seeing him in his element will let me see inside of him. I keep in mind that he will have the upper hand being in his own element, and I endeavor to be careful and stay out of his way.

I am not quite sure what I am expecting when I walk into David’s bar later on in the evening
.

The place is in full swing and I have to say I am a little surprised with the clientele that he draws. These are high end business people and even those who are dressed in fetish wear, are wearing the latest, most expensive items on the market.

Everyone here is gorgeous and dressed to the nines. This looks more like an ad for a private fetish club. Like it or not, I am impressed.
The décor is impressive too. Much like the dungeon at the mansion, the bar is set up to look like the dungeon of a castle. Black, rod iron sconces line the walls. The doors look like dungeon doors in a castle—heavy wood with black, rod iron handles and hasps—giving a Tudor’s air to the setting. The walls and furniture are done in vivid red velvet and leather coverings. Blue and gold colors are perfectly interwoven to give it a classy air as well as an atmosphere of medieval times gone by.

I didn’t want to go dressed in a suit so I chose tight fitting blue jeans and a top that drapes over one of my shoulders paired with five inch stiletto black ankle boots.

I have no intentions of being outdone by any of these women. I may be here to work, but I am still a woman—and women dress for other women.

David

As soon as she graces the door, I see her—as does every other Dom in the place. I immediately feel the stirring in my loins that she always causes whenever she is in my presence.

I want her in the worst sort of way and it is making doing this show very difficult. It is hard to act like I want to pick out a sub to train when all I want is the woman I work for—a woman who has nothing to do with the lifestyle and has voiced no desire to start.

I don’t like the effect she is having on me because I’m not in control and I’m a man who is all about control. I’m pissed right now because I see these Doms in here eyeing her like she’s Christmas candy and there isn’t a damn thing I can do about it because I’m supposed to be here for the show, not to fuck the producer of said show.

I’m angry and I can already see that I’ll be taking it out on these poor, unsuspecting gold diggers I’m surrounded by.

Really, it serves them right, because none of them are here for the right reasons. Maybe giving them a taste of just how cantankerous a Dom can be is just what they need. I have no problem with setting them straight and the irritation I’m feeling from the jealousy coursing through me right now will ensure that a lot of feelings are going to be hurt tonight.

I’m having a hard time peeling my eyes from that fine ass of hers she poured into those designer jeans she’s wearing. She’s leaning up against the bar and all I can envision is tossing her on top of one of these tables and fucking her brains out.

I can’t remember the last time I’ve had a woman get under my skin the way she is. Normally it is the other way around—women falling for me, begging me to train them, or own them. What is it about her that makes her so fucking alluring? I can’t help but wonder if it is because I can’t have her.

Linda

I lean in towards the bar and order a drink. I desperately need a glass of Merlot to take the edge off.

“Well, well, aren’t you just a sight for sore eyes?”

Great, Dom Malibu Ken.

As I eye the life size man-doll complete with a fake bake tan and frosted tips in his hair, I have to stifle a chuckle.

I grab my wine and rush away before he has a chance to make a move on me. There is most certainly no lack of testosterone or male ego here tonight and I have no intentions of coming under anyone’s line of fire.

The TV cameras have brought out the masses and I have one thing on the brain: getting these women stirred up. I was under the impression people in this lifestyle would avoid TV cameras and I can only guess the inception of BDSM into the mainstream population makes it okay to be here tonight.

No sooner has it crossed my mind that I need to stir these girls up, than a loud scream comes from the booth where David and some of the girls are seated at.

“You bitch!”

I immediately rush over to the camera man and whisper, “Get this.”

“You better believe that I’m getting it,” he chuckles.

Let the games begin; this is what makes good reality TV.

I watch as two women hurl accusations and then drinks at one another. A resounding, “I’ll kill you!” is the last thing that I hear as I watch Heather run for the rest room.

Now the women will be motivated for sure. It is about to get intense and I will have to be on top of my game; I have no idea just how intense things are going to get.

I don’t have time to contemplate; I need to go make sure Heather is okay. I understand these girls will fight but telling someone you are going to kill them is crossing the line so I understand her being upset over it.

I hurry through the hallway in search of Heather; I’m certain she is headed for the bathroom.

I can hear her sobbing as I make my way through the darkened hallway. These women are so vicious. I’m used to dealing with reality TV contestants and I know how cutthroat the competition can get but I’m not convinced she can do this.

When I interviewed her, she had been so excited about being accepted on this TV show. She had prepared for months, studying the lifestyle and getting ready for any question that could possibly be thrown at her. She went so far as to tell me she had studied the lifestyle in depth. By the time I interviewed her, I was way past feeling like I would only hire BDSM lifestylers. It had become difficult to find people who were in the lifestyle and willing to do the show. Many people didn’t want to be
outed
due to family members and/or their jobs. That is the reason I had been so shocked to see the turn out tonight; the crowd didn’t seem to care about the cameras.

I know, from researching the girls, she needs the million dollars that the winner will receive, not to mention the fame and the endorsements that will come from winning. Most of the women on the show are in debt due to their irresponsible behavior concerning credit cards or moving from job to job. Each girl has been researched extensively.

She will have to toughen up. Even if she can’t be tough, she’s going to have to be sneaky. She has already proven she can do that by convincing the women she is in the BDSM culture but she is going to have to up her game. She just needs a pep talk; I’ve seen it all before on other shows.

“Heather, sweetie,” I call out through the darkened hallway, “are you okay?”

I make my way into the bathroom; playing den mother to these girls is just part of my job.

“She said that she would kill me, Linda.”

“Sweetie, no one is going to kill you. People say things they don’t mean in the heat of the moment. I can assure you you’re safe here.”

“I know, I know, but these girls are so mean.”

People get that way when a million dollars is at risk.

“Wash up and come back out, you’ve got a competition to try and win.”

I stand in the mirror and listen to the girls bantering back and forth from their bathroom stalls about how dreamy David is.
Eye roll.

They giggle as they exit and one of them eyes me, giggling “You picked the perfect guy for this show.”

Yeah, an egotistical Alpha.

Before I have a chance to answer the other girl looks up and states to her friend, “Yeah, bitch, let the games begin. All’s fair in love and war.”

I know all too well that before six weeks is up, it will be a blood bath of hair extensions, acrylic nails, and messed up, tear-stained make-up.

I have witnessed it time and time again and it never fails. It isn’t about the man or love, it is about winning the money and becoming famous. This is a ‘no holds barred’ competition and these women will stop at nothing to win.

I have witnessed it so much that I can now just about peg what is going to happen before it ever happens. The girls who are the best of friends entering into the competition are the girls who end up leaving as archenemies.

I laugh to myself as I think of one of the behind the scenes jokes of the editors and producers: Once they drink the kool-aid and the fame bug bites them, it will be every woman for herself.

Ironically enough, the only person who will come out of this unscathed is David.

Yeah, Mr. Dom David himself will be the only one left standing.

It is one reason among many that I hold him in such contempt even though I know I shouldn’t because each person who comes on-set does so with their eyes wide open.

I make my way out of the bathroom and into the darkened hallway. Someone jerks me around the corner, covering my mouth with their hand.

Struggling is useless as I hear David’s growl in my ear. “Stay away from him; I mean it, Linda!”

I struggle in vain against a man who has clearly developed some kind of fixation on me.

I listen as Heather makes her way through the hallway and I quit struggling. My breath catches in my throat as David whisks me around the corner, pulling my head back and covering my mouth with his. For just a moment, I forget and give in.

“I’m trying to protect you. Stay away from him, Linda, I mean it!”

I can’t help but wonder if his actions are due to being protective of me, or being jealous of Greg.

More than that, I am baffled by the fact that he doesn’t scare me; he excites me.

Staying away from this jerk is going to be a top priority. Pulling it off, well… that is a different story…