Submitting to the Doctor (Cowboy Doms Book 7)

by BJ Wane

  Lillian shifted her eyes away from Mitchell’s ever observant gaze in time to witness Dan snapping those leather strips on Nan’s tender flesh again. His other hand had scooped out one breast, and whatever he did to her nipple coincided with that strike, causing his wife to jerk her arms and legs against the restraints and lift her hips with a supplicant cry. Watching Dan’s face soften with approval and love elicited a stab of envy she wasn’t prepared to deal with.

  “Come on, pet. Let’s see what you think of a few other scenes.”

  Mitchell’s use of that epithet defused the effect of the warmth lacing his gruff voice and she let him hear her irritation. “You know I don’t care for that label.”

  “Yes, I do. The club safe word is red, but a lot of times a submissive will prefer choosing her own, something she can relate to and remember easily.” He stopped by a large wagon wheel suspended from the roof, a much smaller version propped next to it. “We call this apparatus our Wheel of Misfortune.” Giving the small one a spin, Lillian watched the little flapper snapping between the spokes until it came to rest on one as it stopped spinning. Mitchell leaned forward and read, “Back to wheel, sideways position. Can you picture yourself up there, strapped on naked, in that position?”

  “No.” She didn’t have to think about it. Not only did it sound uncomfortable, but mortifying.

  “Then we’ll move on. Tell me when you see something you wouldn’t adamantly oppose trying.”

  “And if there’s nothing?”

  He shrugged, as if he didn’t care one way or the other, the move producing another stab of unexplainable regret. “Then you’ve appeased your curiosity and can set it aside.”

  They walked slowly down the center of the loft, Mitchell pausing to explain each piece of equipment. He pointed out Master Devin, leaning against the back wall, and explained he was on monitoring duty, which entailed keeping an eye out for anyone breaking the safe, sane and consensual rules. Lillian wasn’t ready to admit it out loud, but every time she saw unabashed pleasure on a submissive’s face, regardless of the torment her Dom was heaping upon her body, and his approval of her acceptance, her curiosity and the slow spread of heat increased. She was starting to get a grip of what her friends meant when they said the lifestyle met their needs.

  Lillian couldn’t help leaning on Mitchell each time they stopped, the brush of his leg against hers, his firm hold on her arm and deep voice vibrating above her all worked to set her at ease while she reconciled with her arousing response. She quit wondering how her nipples could peak and her pussy swell and dampen when he annoyed her with his commands and continued to use that ‘pet’ name, but by the time they reached another woman bound to a dangling chain, her body was ablaze with a fiery need she couldn’t disclaim, admitting only some of it was due to the erotic displays. It was more proof she didn’t require to confess the ‘spanking’ lesson last week failed to work him out of her system.

  Were all these men tall, dark and muscled? Lillian wondered, watching wide-eyed as this Dom wielded a long-stranded flogger with steady, constant flicks of his wrist, moving from the bound woman’s buttocks to her thighs then up to her lower back. Her acceptance of the reddening, hurtful swats baffled Lillian – she could still too easily recall the breath-stealing, excruciating pain of Brad’s fist and kick.

  And then Lillian watched as her eyes glazed, her face softened into a rapt, contented expression, as if she’d drifted into another world. What would it be like to be taken to another plane, outside of yourself, away from everything stressful and hurtful and have a man look at her with the same warm approval etched on this Dom’s face? She glanced up at Mitchell as he led her away from the scene, almost stumbling as she realized that’s exactly what he had done every time he’d brought her to orgasm. He’d taken her outside of herself, given her a reprieve from grief through seduction at the cabin and the more light-hearted yet just as intense scene – at least for her – at the apartment.

  She questioned the quick stab of longing for a similar look of approval from Mitchell that took her by surprise, a reaction she didn’t want but admitting it and then moving on seemed more productive than denial. His penchant for issuing orders pushed her buttons but she owed him for looking after her in more ways than one. Maybe someday she would find a way to pay him back.

  “Come meet one of my favorite couples,” Mitchell said, steering her toward the last apparatus.

  She couldn’t help it, her jaw dropped as they approached what looked like a gymnastics vault, the contraption rocking back and forth as the naked woman astride it gyrated up and down on a condom-covered, vibrating dildo. Her Dom, a stern looking man in his fifties, flicked the long narrow handle in his hand, snapping the square leather flap at the end on the blonde’s already blood-red nipple.

  Mitchell pushed her jaw up, closing her gaping mouth as he leaned down to whisper, “They live a strict, twenty-four seven, Dom/sub lifestyle. Do not speak unless one of us gives you permission.”

  As usual, Lillian bristled at the order, the tight squeeze on her elbow signaling he was dead serious. Swallowing the retort on the tip of her tongue, she nodded, amazed at the woman’s ability to maneuver up and down on the fake phallus using just her legs since her hands were cuffed behind her. She gasped as the man swatted the tender flesh of her bare folds clinging to the dildo, lifting her head to reveal wide blue eyes glistening with tears.

  “Head down!” the Dom barked and she dropped her head again, her hair falling forward to shield her face.

  Lillian’s fiercely held independent side rebelled against the woman’s subjugated pose and obedience, but Mitchell’s sharp, negative head shake kept her mouth shut. And then the man stepped forward, stopped the rocking motion of the machine, rooted out her swollen clit and pressed the sensitive nerve endings against the hard ridges of the vibrator with one word.

  “Now.”

  Climaxing as instructed, the woman’s whole body bowed with pleasure, her soft cries resonating around them. As erotically titillating as watching her was, it was the look the two of them shared as the woman opened her eyes, her perspiration-damp body still quivering, her face suffused with pleasure. Lillian couldn’t glance away from the obvious special connection the couple shared, the depth of their unguarded feelings exposed in their gazes for all to see. That closeness reminded her of the bond between her and Liana; different relationships for sure, but the same link that made them so unique.

  Grief clogged her throat, forcing her to look away from the couple as he helped her down, his hands gentle on her red-marked body. Lillian’s eyes rose to catch a fleeting look of sadness and longing in Mitchell’s gaze as he looked at his friends, and she suspected he was remembering his wife. She didn’t doubt theirs had been as close a bond as this couple. Somehow, realizing how deeply his loss had affected him and his life, made her feel better about being with him now. They both were in need of healing before they could move on.

  His eyes swung toward her, the shadow of heartbreak disappearing with a flare that turned them more green than brown. Her heart rolled over, her body quivering as if he’d touched her with his hands instead of his look. A craving stirred to life inside her, but was it born of lust or a need to temporarily fill the void in her life Liana’s passing left and help him in the process? Did she pine for physical distraction from the pain of unmitigated grief, or yearn for what she’d witnessed between the other couple, for what Mitchell had before?

  Mitchell slid his hand from her elbow to her hand, tugging her forward with an unreadable expression. “Master Brett, this is our guest tonight, Lillian Gillespie.”

  “Lillian, my wife and I have heard a little about you.” Holding out his hand, Brett checked her face carefully, looking for the bruises that had already disappeared.

  “It’s nice to meet you. Sir,” she tacked on, not wanting to get on anyone’s bad side.

  He nodded at his wife, who now wore a satin, knee-length robe. “Cindy.”

  As if she�
�d been waiting for his permission, Cindy smiled and held out her hand. “So nice to meet you. I hope you’re enjoying the club.”

  “It’s an eye-opener,” she replied with a rueful grin.

  “We need to get going, but I hope you’ll come back, Lillian. Mitchell, will we see you at the monthly meeting?”

  “I plan on it.”

  As soon as they were left alone, Lillian rounded on Mitchell with one question before she talked herself out of asking it. “How do I know for sure what I want?”

  He scrutinized her face for a moment before replying, “Explore, experiment and find out. I can’t answer for you, but I can assist you along the way to discovery, if you’re brave enough to take the first step.”

  She stiffened, narrowing her eyes at the challenge in his tone and behind his words. Between her pulsing body, rioting emotions and that dare, turning him down wasn’t an option. Lillian was starting to get a better understanding of what she’d subjected Liana to with her constant challenges.

  “How much bossiness do I have to tolerate?”

  “I only dish out what is necessary, pet.”

  Blowing out a breath, Lillian nodded. “What are you suggesting?”

  Chapter 9

  Lillian would continue to deny it, but the interest in what she’d seen so far was there. Mitchell had watched her pupils darken as he explained the side position on the wheel of misfortune, her nipples harden and face flush as they paused to take in Mindy’s writhing body convulsing in climax from a swat that reddened her bare labia and the pulse in her neck jump as they approached Brett and Cindy.

  Since returning from dinner at the Dunbars’ last night, he had been unable to stop picturing her here, with him tutoring her. Like her, he could admit to lust. What he still couldn’t come to terms with was the way she continued to invade his thoughts since meeting her. They shared nothing in common and both agreed they weren’t each other’s type. Taking a step back as her physician had failed to settle the matter, so that left one more option; to assuage the lust.

  “What are you suggesting?”

  Her question hung in the air between them. She wouldn’t jump into an intense scene, but he could give her a taste of his preferences that might convince her to go a little further. If not, at least they could put whatever this was that kept pulling them together to bed and move on, she to wherever she was headed next and him back to forging a new life without Abbie.

  “A better question is what are you willing to try? Light bondage? Public or private, covered, partly bared or naked? The possibilities are endless. Most newbies prefer a secluded spot for their first scene.” Her eyes narrowed and fists clenched, signs she didn’t like being lumped in with most newbies, as he suspected. The snowball fight she’d initiated at the cabin had given him a glimpse of her competitive streak. In order to take advantage of this opportunity, he would use every bit of knowledge about her to ensure she got the most out of this experience. “Give me something to start with and I’ll take it from there.”

  Lillian’s chest lifted as she sucked in a deep breath. “I’m fine with staying up here as long as we’re off to the side or in a darker corner. I don’t want to be fully restrained, denied all movement.” She cast a quick glance behind him at the people in scenes and milling about. “And prefer to start covered.” A taunting smile curled her lips as she looked up at him. “Can you do that, Master Mitchell.”

  “A little cautionary advice, pet,” he said, clasping her hand, “it’s not wise to challenge a Dom.” Spotting a vacant spanking bench in the corner, he tugged her over to it. “Wait here a minute while I get a few things.”

  She tensed next to him, likely from the order, but he didn’t look at her as he strode to the cabinet on the wall a few feet away. He didn’t have anything in mind until he opened the doors and spotted the thigh straps with attached wrist cuffs. Perfect. Selecting those, he went to the toy cabinet, debating over dildos, vibrators and various spanking implements. A new item caught his eye and he reached for the glass anal beads, his cock twitching as he imagined inserting them, and her response. Picking up the dual slapper and feather tickler, he carried the objects back to Lillian, who eyed them with a mixture of interest and trepidation.

  “Remember, saying red ends whatever I’m doing, without question. If you need to ask me about something, go ahead. Otherwise, try to focus on what your body is saying. Are you wearing panties?”

  “Yes, of course.”

  “Of course,” he murmured, watching as she realized his inquiry was appropriate given the different stages of attire by everyone. He unzipped her skirt, keeping his eyes on hers. “You’ll still be covered, then, if I remove this. Step out,” he instructed as the black garment fell to her feet and left her standing in a pair of beige silk panties and white blouse.

  Stooping in front of her, he slid his hands up her smooth right leg. She clutched his shoulders as he reached the top of her thigh and wrapped the Velcro strap. “Drop your right arm.”

  Her muscles tensed under his hands as she questioned him. “Why?”

  Glancing up, he pinned her with a disapproving frown. “Because I said to.”

  Lillian huffed, those violet eyes swirling with indecision before she gave in to his calm patience and lowered her hand. Mitchell nodded in approval then turned his attention to attaching the cuff to her wrist, binding her arm to her upper thigh, checking to make sure the snug fit wasn’t too restricting. He did the same procedure on her left, only he grabbed her hand off his shoulder himself to secure that arm to her leg before pushing to his feet and cupping her chin. “Are you clothed enough and is this dark and secluded enough to continue?”

  “Yes.” She jerked against the restraints, a confident grin lighting up her face. “I’m not going to freak out on you, Doc.”

  A part of him wished she would so they could end this and put it behind them. Seeing those long, bare legs again got his blood pumping with a need he couldn’t deny, the temptation to test her cocky self-assuredness riding him hard.

  “Good to know.” Releasing that stubborn jaw, he turned her to face the spanking bench. “Kneel down, hips pressed against the edge, torso prone.”

  Mitchell had to give her credit for not balking or arguing as she settled into position. Her muscles were tense, her breathing hitched, but she lay facedown on the U-shaped headrest without a word. Testing her, he slid a finger under her panties and grazed the damp seam of her pussy lips. Shifting to the side of the bench while keeping his finger nestled between her puffy labia, he leaned over and whispered in her ear.

  “You’re wet and swollen, pet. Are you sure you’re not submissive?”

  Lillian lifted and turned her head, their lips almost touching as she replied, “You’re touching me, so of course I’m aroused. We’ve already established that.”

  “Then let’s see if I can confirm a few other things.” Straightening, he pressed his finger deeper, brushed against her clit and pulled back. Flicking the side mechanism on the bench, he pushed the head down several inches until her hips were elevated above her shoulders.

  Gasping, she yanked on her arms and then groaned at her inability to move. Her voice wobbled, a telltale sign he relished, as she asked, “What are you doing?”

  “Placing you in one of my favorite positions.” Adding a second finger to her pussy, he stroked her into accepting the decadent pose in favor of concentrating on her pleasure. The next plunge knocked against her womb before he withdrew to circle the small bundle of swollen nerves. Slick juices coated his digits, soft muscles contracted around them and her clit hardened. Time to pull back.

  A frustrated growl rumbled from Lillian’s throat but, much to his surprise, she kept quiet. Until he coasted his cream-covered fingers up her crack, dampened her anus and then breached the tight puckered entrance with his middle finger up to the first knuckle.

  Her whole body quivered as she wheezed, “Oh, God. Mitchell, I don’t know about that.”

  “Then say red.”


  “And stop everything now?” she snapped with frustrated incredulity and a shift of her hips.

  This was easier than he had hoped. “I guess I can let you skip this experiment, if you can’t handle it.”

  For the first time in what seemed like forever, Mitchell let loose with a deep chuckle as she went rigid and the muffled bite of her reply reached him. “I can handle whatever you want. I’m not saying red, so go ahead.”

  Working his finger inside her tight ass, he wondered whom he was really testing tonight, himself or her.

  “Relax your muscles, concentrate on the sensations.”

  Relax? Mitchell twisted his finger inside her butt and Lillian wondered how she was supposed to loosen up. She should stop and think before jumping to accept the challenges he kept throwing at her. The inability to move her hands didn’t bother her as much as she’d imagined, nor did the mild exhibitionism from losing her skirt. If she were to be honest, both new experiences contributed to her arousal increasing with damp preparedness as he reamed virgin territory with more vigorous strokes.

  Fisting her hands for leverage, she took several, lung-filling breaths, exhaling slowly after each one. Her tension eased with every breath and deeper push inside her rectum. He used her own juices to ease his way, the very idea both shocking and stimulating. Thirty-four years old and, as startling ripples of pleasure tingled deep inside that orifice and spread to her pussy, nothing in her past encounters hinted at missing out on anything. With her sheath aching for more attention, she lifted her hips, compressing her lips to contain the verbal plea on the tip of her tongue. One mortification was enough to deal with.