by AE Lister
Table of Contents
Title Page
Legal Page
Book Description
Dedication
Trademark Acknowledgements
Prologue
Chapter One
Chapter Two
Chapter Three
Chapter Four
Chapter Five
Chapter Six
Chapter Seven
Chapter Eight
Chapter Nine
Chapter Ten
Chapter Eleven
Chapter Twelve
Chapter Thirteen
Chapter Fourteen
Chapter Fifteen
Chapter Sixteen
Chapter Seventeen
Chapter Eighteen
Chapter Nineteen
Read more like this
Get your copy now
More exciting books!
About the Author
Persuasions
VARIOUS PERSUASIONS
AE LISTER
Various Persuasions
ISBN # 978-1-83943-111-1
©Copyright AE Lister 2021
Cover Art by Louisa Maggio ©Copyright March 2021
Interior text design by Claire Siemaszkiewicz
Pride Publishing
This is a work of fiction. All characters, places and events are from the author’s imagination and should not be confused with fact. Any resemblance to persons, living or dead, events or places is purely coincidental.
All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced in any material form, whether by printing, photocopying, scanning or otherwise without the written permission of the publisher, Pride Publishing.
Applications should be addressed in the first instance, in writing, to Pride Publishing. Unauthorised or restricted acts in relation to this publication may result in civil proceedings and/or criminal prosecution.
The author and illustrator have asserted their respective rights under the Copyright Designs and Patents Acts 1988 (as amended) to be identified as the author of this book and illustrator of the artwork.
Published in 2021 by Pride Publishing, United Kingdom.
No part of this book may be reproduced, scanned, or distributed in any printed or electronic form without permission. Please do not participate in or encourage piracy of copyrighted materials in violation of the authors’ rights. Purchase only authorised copies.
Pride Publishing is an imprint of Totally Entwined Group Limited.
If you purchased this book without a cover you should be aware that this book is stolen property. It was reported as “unsold and destroyed” to the publisher and neither the author nor the publisher has received any payment for this “stripped book”.
Book one in the Persuasions series
A non-binary Dom. An eager young sub. Service, orgasm control, bondage. An initial encounter leads to a synchronous exploration of identity and intimacy.
Nic Walker is not your typical Dom—physically female but identifying as male. And Vincent Blake is not your typical twenty-four-year-old straight guy—seductively submissive with a penchant for lacy underwear.
When Nic’s Dominatrix friend Daphne encourages them to get together, she can only hope they recognize the compatibility of their desires and personalities.
Nic has been holing up alone in their townhouse for too long, getting over a bad ‘relationship’, and it’s time for them to start living again. When Nic meets Vincent, neither expects the tentative relationship to take off like a runaway train. But each layer of the attractive and seemingly vulnerable young man Nic exposes ignites their own desires and leads both on a path to revealing the most interesting parts of themselves.
Who knew piano practice could be a form of sexual service? Or that a pair of overpriced panties could inspire such devotion?
Through bondage, service, objectification and the purchase of large quantities of lacy unmentionables, as well as a few specific sex toys and devices, Nic explores how far Vincent will go to please them and how much of themself they will risk to have him.
Dedication
To those who know who they are.
Trademark Acknowledgements
The author acknowledges the trademarked status and trademark owners of the following wordmarks mentioned in this work of fiction:
The Great British Baking Show: Public Broadcasting Service
Sympathy for the Devil: Mick Jagger, Keith Richards
Google: Google Inc.
Starbucks: Starbucks Inc.
Scotiabank: Bank of Nova Scotia, the Corporation Canada
IKEA: Ikea Svenska Aktiebolag Corporation
Uber: Uber Technologies Inc.
Pornhub: MG Freesites Ltd.
Honda: Honda Giken Kogyo Kabushiki Kaisha – Honda Motor Co Ltd
La Senza: La Senza International Canada
Rideau Centre: Cadillac Fairview Corporation Limited
A&W: A&W Concentrate Company Corporation
Coke: Coca-Cola Company
House Hunters: HGTV
Let It Be: John Lennon, Paul McCartney
Jell-O: Kraft Foods Group Brands LLC
Dairy Queen: American Dairy Queen Corporation
Vogue: Advance Magazine Publishers Inc.
Olympics: The United States Olympic Committee
I Feel Pretty: Leonard Bernstein, Stephen Sondheim
West Side Story: Arthur Laurents, Leonard Bernstein, Stephen Sondheim
Star Wars: LucasFilm Entertainment Company, The Walt Disney Company
Converse: Converse Inc.
Doc Martens: Dr. Martens International Trading GmbH Corporation
The Rocky Horror Picture Show: Twentieth Century Fox
Victoria’s Secret: Victoria’s Secret Stores Brand Management Inc.
Prologue
My fingers holding the photograph were pale with the effort not to crumple the damn thing up and be done with it, with him. My nails were rough and jagged from my gnawing on them. I didn’t know why the ‘breakup’ had caused me such anger, except that I felt used and cheated.
It had been months, but I still couldn’t think about Zane without anger and feelings of betrayal.
He’d said he would teach me. He’d said he would show me how to be a good Dom. I’d been so thrilled that a male Dominant would take me under his wing that I hadn’t questioned his reasons. I’d figured he’d seen something promising in me and wanted to refine it.
I knew I was unique. I knew I was different. I was proud of it. I had never expected someone to use that uniqueness to their own advantage.
I felt like his circus pony. He’d trotted me out to his subs like a fancy treat to be enjoyed for its flavor then tossed aside.
He hadn’t cared for me the way I’d cared for him—the way I’d thought he’d cared for me.
I stared at the blurred outlines of the man who’d taken my heart and trampled it and vowed never to care so much about anyone again.
Chapter One
Two months later
The call came in near midnight that Friday.
I was sitting down with a beer and my remote to watch The Great British Baking Show when my phone started playing Sympathy for the Devil—Daphne’s ringtone.
What could she possibly want from me at this hour? She should have been working. I knew she was working. It was Friday night, for fuck’s sake. But the curiosity got to me.
“Hey, doll.” My standard greeting for Daphne.
“My lovely Nic. Are you busy?”
“Never too busy for you, Daphne. What’s up?”
She giggled. I pictured her face, its pixy-like innocence that belied a very dark soul. “I have this client—”
“No,” I said without thinking. I knew what sh
e wanted, and the answer was no. It was always no.
“But, Nic, I haven’t even told you—”
“You know I don’t do that anymore.”
She sighed. “Just listen, okay? Just listen to what I have to say.”
My jaw tightened and I wanted to hang up, but I wouldn’t do that to Daphne. We’d been friends for too long. She’d known me, like…forever.
“Fine. But the answer is still no.”
Not to be deterred, Daphne continued. “This client… His name is Vincent.”
I snorted with derision. “A guy, Daphne?”
“Yes, Nic, a guy. Get over it. You, of all people, shouldn’t get hung up on gender.”
I mean, she was right. But…still. “I don’t have experience with guys, Daphne. You know that.”
“Look… Hear me out. Please, Nic.”
I looked at the clock above my flatscreen. It was twelve-oh-four. “You have five minutes.”
She giggled. “Okay. So, he just left. And our session was…interesting.”
“Really.” I tried to sound remotely engaged.
“I don’t think he’s into women like me,” she said with a pout in her voice.
“Huh.”
“I mean, he’s into submitting. That’s for sure. And he did submit for me. And he liked submitting for me. But…”
“But?” I picked up a pen from the coffee table and started pushing the button with my thumb. It made a comforting clicking sound.
“I think he needs something else. I think he’d respond better to something else.”
I closed my eyes. Click. “To what?”
“To you.”
“Are you fucking kidding me, Daphne?”
“No.”
I didn’t want to do this. I didn’t want to be reeled in. “I don’t do that anymore.”
“Well, that’s a damn shame, Nic, because you were the best at it.”
I snorted again. “That’s debatable.”
“Not by anyone I’ve ever spoken to about you.”
I held my breath. “Who have you spoken to?”
She hesitated and I knew the answer.
“Fuck you.” Click, click, click.
“I mean, I know a lot of people who knew you when you—”
“Daphne,” I said and closed my eyes, leaning my head back against the wall. “Did you talk to Zane?”
She hesitated again and I knew she had. “He misses you.”
My heart shattered a little bit, but I put it back together with sheer will. “It doesn’t matter.”
“Nic, he didn’t mean to treat you badly.”
“Doesn’t matter. He did.”
“But you don’t have to stop doing what you’re good at.”
My voice, when I found it, sounded small. “I’m only good at it…because of him.”
“I know he taught you. I know he mentored you. But you surpassed him a long time ago.”
“Daphne, that’s not true.”
“It is true. And he told me that.”
That surprised me…and didn’t. Zane had never been one to hand out compliments directly. It figured this would be how I found out.
“He did?”
“You know I wouldn’t lie about this, Nic.”
“I know.” My voice was barely above a whisper.
She continued in a soft voice. “Can I please just tell you about Vincent? Please?”
Maybe it was because she was such a good friend. Maybe it was because we’d known each other for so long. Maybe it was because what she’d just told me about Zane was something I’d wanted to hear for so long.
“Fine. Tell me.”
“Okay. Well, he’s twenty-four and cute as shit. You know I only agree to the cute ones.”
I couldn’t help but laugh. Daphne had high standards when it came to physical attractiveness. I’d never cared about that as much as she had. Still…
“Twenty-four? That’s way too young, Daphne.”
“Too young for him to know what he wants?”
“I thought you said he’s not working out.”
“Yes, but that’s my fault, not his.”
“Why is it your fault?”
She giggled again and I heard her self-deprecating sigh. “I’m too girly.”
“Fuck, Daphne.”
Honestly, she was girly. She was fucking high heels and corsets and ribbons, doling out praise and punishment with crops and paddles and rulers. Most of her clients dug that. Maybe not this one?
“It’s true. He needs something else.”
“Um, like a guy maybe?”
“Not exactly. Like you, Nic.”
“Is he gay?” He might have been gay and closeted—trying to get off on a Dominatrix when he really wanted a Dom.
“I don’t think so. Maybe bi. He likes lady parts. I mean really likes lady parts.” She paused. “I think he’s attracted to the masculine but not necessarily to men.”
“So, what am I, Daphne?” That was the question I’d been trying to answer my whole life.
“You are my Nic. You’re a guy, a man for all intents and purposes. Except you have that unique element…”
I couldn’t help but laugh. “A pussy?”
She laughed too. “Well, yes.”
Honestly, I didn’t feel like a man or a woman and I didn’t feel like I had to choose between those two things. I was myself. I was Nic Walker.
My name had been Nicole, but people had started calling me Nicky, then Nic. That was probably because I’d never really looked like a girl—and I’d never really acted like a girl and I’d never really felt like a girl. But I’d never questioned what I was.
Physically, I was female. I had a pussy and I had boobs, albeit really small ones—small enough that I could ignore them for the most part, which I generally did. I didn’t need a bra or a binder. If I had been stereotypically female, their size would have been a problem. I could pass as male most of the time. I did pass as male most of the time and I had no problem with that, except romantic relationships could be tricky.
I had predominantly dated women. I was predominantly attracted to women. There had been the occasional man—like Zane—and I’d always regretted those experiences. But Zane had taught me to embrace my Dominant side, and he’d taught me the practical skills to do it—not with him, but with women. Daphne had helped too. She had helped me to accept who I was and what I liked to do.
When Zane and I had ‘broken up’, for lack of a better term, I had turned my back on all that. And here was Daphne bringing it back up when it was really the last thing I wanted.
“What’s his story?”
“He’s lost, Nic. He’s shy and he’s ashamed of himself and what he wants. But he’s at a point that he can’t deny himself anymore. So, he came to me. But I think he needs you.”
“How do you figure?” Click.
“He’s not looking for stereotypes. I don’t…do it for him.”
I leaned my head back against the wall and propped one bare foot on the sofa. It was small, perhaps the most feminine part of me and the reason I generally wore boots and clunky shoes. I didn’t deny I dressed like a guy. I looked like a guy. I felt like a guy most of the time. But I didn’t hide the fact that I had female parts. It simply didn’t come up in conversation. I wasn’t ashamed to be atypical. To be honest, I liked it. I strived after uniqueness. I didn’t want to be like everyone else, and I wasn’t.
“You’re not a stereotype, Daphne.” I felt like I had to say that, even though if you looked up ‘Dominatrix’ on Google, you’d see Daphne or someone who looked a lot like her.
She laughed again. “I kind of am.”
“Okay, you kind of are, but you’re lovely.” The truth of this choked me up and I realized I’d missed her. “I don’t think I can compete with you.”
“I’m not asking you to compete with me. I’m just asking you to meet with Vincent and see what happens.”
“Have you told him anything about me?” Click.
“No. I feel like he should make up his own mind.” She said this with confidence.
Daphne was perceptive and smart. “Good.”
I heard a squeal on the end of the phone. “Then you’ll meet him?”
What am I doing? “Okay. Sure.”
“Yes! Even if it doesn’t work out the way I think it will, thank you for agreeing to do this, Nic. It means everything to me.”
“Sure. I know.”
She cleared her throat. “I should mention that he’s not a paying client. I took him on as a favor to someone.”
“That’s fine. You know I don’t monetize this sort of thing.”
“I know, and you’re nuts. Do you know how much money you could make?”
“Yes, Daphne, I know. I’ve really got to go.”
“Listen… He’s really sweet. You’re going to like him.”
“We’ll see.”
“Love you, Nic.”
“Love you, Daphne.”
* * * *
I met the guy the following week. Daphne gave him my number and he called me pretty quickly. He seemed nice on the phone—a little hesitant, a little lost. Nice tenor voice. A bit of a stutter but it wasn’t really obvious. Just shy. Seemed too deferential—a bit too weak. I liked my subs to have backbone. I didn’t want it to be easy. Natural for them to submit, yes, but not necessarily easy.
We agreed to meet at the Starbucks near me. I made sure to get there first since I wanted to observe him as he arrived. I needed to get a read on this guy.
Daphne had said she’d shown him an older photo of me. I hadn’t changed much. I’d been too skinny back then but I wasn’t much more filled out now. My muscles were more defined because I made a point to work out. I had short hair now, while in the photo she had shown him my hair was long and I’d worn it in a tight ponytail at the base of my neck. It was a little more feminine, although not that much. I had no idea what he thought or expected of me.
We’d told each other what we’d be wearing. I was in my usual jeans, T-shirt and leather jacket. Combat boots. At only five foot seven, I stood taller than average for a woman. It wasn’t tall enough for me. If I could have changed anything about me, that would have been it. Anyway, I looked taller in my boots and jacket. At least I felt taller, and that was the important thing.
