Portraying Dominic Pierson

EXERCISE: Writing in the third person (using ‘he’ or ‘she’), try each of the four different ways outlined below, either in one or two continuous pages or in four separate paragraphs:

• Make a summary of what the character is like.

• Show them through appearance.

• Show them through a habitual or repeated action.

• Finally, show them through a speech in a scene.

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SUMMARY

With the intelligence of a world-renowned surgeon, the tactical skills of a former Navy SEAL, and the body of a Roman God, Dr. Dominic Pierson was a man of many talents both in and out of the bedroom. He was the type of man who exuded dominance in all areas of his life. What few failed to realize was that he was a Dominant, a professional Dominant with the confidence, power, and charm that could bring any girl to her knees, making her moan and shudder with pleasure two, three, sometimes four times in a single night. As a Dominant, he was a master of corporeal punishment. In fact, the only people privy to his secret lifestyle were his past and temporary submissives, the ones that requested his services at Dominion, an unassuming BDSM club in downtown Los Angeles. As a Dentist, the ladies -- still high as a kite on anesthetics -- tended to hit on him with a bold come-on post-surgery, while others proceeded to tongue the air, as he was still hovering over them. It never ceased to amuse him that his patients, drugged or not, were completely oblivious to what else his strong, masculine hands could do besides repairing their jaw or extracting their wisdom teeth. Dominic, known simply as "Dom" by his friends and closest family had come quite a long way in life. As a child, he wanted to be a superhero. As a teenager, he wanted to be a cop but it was notable war movies like Platoon and Full Metal Jacket that made him want to go into the military. A Navy SEAL turned oral surgeon, he frequently did pro bono dental work for his family, friends, and sometimes even his own submissives. When he didn't have a submissive, he was feeding the fetish of a "client" at Dominion or indulging in sex parties with his fellow Dominants. Dentist, Dominant, brother, or friend, people called on him for advice when they were in a jam. His most recent good deed was saving his best friend from slipping into a coma from alcohol poisoning.

APPEARANCE

Standing at precisely six feet tall, Dominic Pierson was a gorgeous hunk of a man with a set of deep, hypnotic blue-eyes, high cheekbones, and a sexy, breathy rumble of a voice that had the power to make any woman weak in the knees. Anyone who was lucky enough to catch the dark-haired ex-Navy SEAL shirtless would assume he had walked off the cover of Playgirl magazine or an erotic romance novel. With his firm and toned muscular body, his sunkissed skin was nearly flawless, save for the few light wrinkles in his broad forehead and the deep lines that indented the space between his brows, which only appeared when he was deep in thought or fiercely irritated. Of course, anyone who passed him on the street wasn't privy to this amazing body unless he was wearing a tight T-shirt, they caught a glimpse of him at the beach, during his morning workout or swimming a few laps in his Beverly Hills pool. And only a select few were fortunate enough to drink in his magnificent physique in the bedroom, but those who did were usually pinned beneath it and giving themselves over to his Dominant personality.

HABITUAL/REPEATED ACTION

"LAPD officers are advising all residents to shelter in place. No one is allowed to go in or out. . ." The young female newscaster went on, but her voice fell on deaf ears as Dominic loaded the 15-round magazine, her words becoming nothing more than background noise to the ex-Navy SEAL. Popping it into his Glock 19, the magazine clicked into place. Taking the pistol in both hands, he slipped one finger inside the trigger guard and crept into the foyer, his front door, and the windows surrounding it made entirely of glass. Bang-bang-bang-bang! Shots. Heart pounding, he ducked behind the stacked stone wall that separated his kitchen from the foyer and pressed his back against the rough siding, raising and holding the Glock close to his chest. It had been his go-to weapon since he retired from the military to pursue a career in operative dentistry. If someone tried to get into that house, he'd be ready for them. It was only natural, considering his tactical skills. Fortunately, he didn't have to use the pistol in the past two weeks, not a single bullet, but almost every other night since, he'd followed the same routine. It was official, the second wave of L.A. riots and the third wave of mass shootings had begun and the perpetrator was still on the loose. The Glock was a minimal means of defense. It would do for the time being, but if the gunman was brandishing an assault rifle, which he probably was, and those shots drew any closer, he had an M4A1 in a nearby closet, loaded and ready to go. No one threatens a SEAL.

SPEECH IN A SCENE

"Is she always like this?"

"Unfortunately, yes," said Christian, "but my belt does work wonders in showing her the errors of her ways, which I'm sure she'll be seeing tonight."

She froze, turning to gape at him, her eyes widening in horror. Softly, she pleaded with him. "No. No, Sir, please."

"We'll discuss this later," Christian muttered, barely glancing in her direction. He sighed wearily, tugging at his tie as he shifted in his seat, yet refusing to look directly at her. "She has quite a bit of trouble listening to reason. I'm afraid I have my hands full with this young lady."

He watched the pair in fascination, arching his brows. "I see that." "Uh, hello?" She cried, eyeing them incredulously. "I'm still here, you know. Can you please stop talking about me like I'm not?" Christian fixed his gaze on Amy in the chair beside him, his deep-set brown eyes narrowing in contempt. "Watch your tone." Amy looked away from them with a huff.

Dominic's gaze shifted from him to Amy. She met his gaze then quickly looked away, a rather large lump protruding from her neck then disappearing almost as fast as it came. Gently rocking back in his leather office chair, his gaze slid from her to Christian. "Would you excuse us for a minute, buddy? I'd like to talk to Amy alone."

She looked up, jaw going slack, her gaze darting from one to the other.

Christian glanced from him to her, a tense silence falling over the room. One that warranted no explanation. Gently, he nodded his head in approval. "Certainly." Uncrossing his legs, he pushed himself up to his feet, fastening the button on his suit jacket. He regarded Amy with a long lingering look, one that could only be described as a silent warning for her to behave herself. Amy sighed deeply, averting her gaze downward.

Tucking one hand in his pocket, Christian turned majestically and glided out of the room. Granted, he could've asked him to stay, but if he really wanted to get his point across, his words would be more effective if he did this alone.

She bit her lip, but she said nothing. She simply sat there, one leg rapidly bobbing up and down, another lump passing down her neck. "Is this about my teeth or. . .the surgery?" "Amy," he sighed softly, "if this was about your teeth or the surgery, I wouldn't have asked Christian to step outside."

She averted her gaze downward, a flush coloring her cheeks. "Yeah, I figured." "Plus, I covered everything in the exam room. Tell me, how long have you been Christian's submissive?" She blinked and furrowed her brows. "He never told you?" He glanced away from her for a brief moment as he explored the recesses of his memory. "Beyond the fact that you were his submissive? No." "Just a couple of weeks. Almost three. Why?" "Have you ever been a submissive before?" She narrowed her eyes. "You didn't answer my question."

Fiesty. He began to grind his teeth, a muscle tightening in his jaw. "I will, just as soon as you answer mine."

She huffed, her shoulders slumping in defeat. "For like a week. With his cousin, Eric." He blinked. Eric. That explains a lot. "Did he ever punish you?"

Her face fell and she quickly averted her eyes down. "In his way," she muttered. "It was more. . .abusive. He didn't really know how to be a Dominant. Not like Christian."

"I don't disagree with you on that. Were you obedient to him?"

She rolled her eyes. "I tried to be." Oh no -- she did not. He leaned closer, resting his forearms on the desk, and furrowing his brows. "Did you just roll your eyes at me?" She blinked, her eyes widening in horror. "I-I was r-rolling them at Eric. I-I mean, in regards t-to Eric. Not at you."

Rolling back in his chair, he pushed himself to his feet and came around the desk. She gasped softly, pulling her feet onto the seat and wrapping her arms around her knees, shrinking further into her chair, her rapid breaths the only sound. "I-I'm sorry, Sir. D-Dr. Pierson, Sir. I swear, it. . ." He perched himself on the edge of the desk, the one closest to her chair, folding his arms over his chest and fixing her with a hard gaze, his voice falling an octave or two. "Do you ever roll your eyes at Christian?" "Uh. . ." She paused, taking another swallow. "S-Sometimes, accidentally." "And what does he usually do?" Her mouth opened but the only sound he got from her was a squeak. "Does he spank you?" Bowing her head and allowing her long auburn hair to fall into her face, she slowly nodded. "Sometimes I'll get a warning. Other times, he'll just take me over his knee." "With his hand or his belt?" "Both. It depends." "You think that's what I should do? Take you over my knee?" Tucking a few strands of hair behind her ear, she slowly looked up at him. "I don't think Christian would like that. He'd be pissed. I mean, I am his, you know?"

His gaze shifted from her to the door then back again, a smile tugging at the corners of his mouth. "Yeah, I got that. And as a fellow Dominant, I can respect that, but what if he let me? What if he said it was okay?" Sliding off the desk, he came forward, setting his hand on the arm of her chair and leaning closer, their faces merely inches apart. "What if it was both of us punishing you at once?" She gulped. "Holy shit." "With that potty mouth, your constant disobedience, and your smart ass attitude, you could use a night of corporal punishment and with the two of us in charge, it's going to be a hell of a long night." "Sweet baby Jesus. I-I think," she paused and took another swallow, "I better go. I n-need my heart medication. Like right now!" She scrambled out of the chair, nearly tripping over her own two feet and tumbling onto the cold, hard, freshly waxed floor in her effort to get to the door.

He chuckled as the door slammed shut behind her.