I look back at the website and scroll down, finding a woman who’s cuffed, blindfolded, and spread eagle on a table, where a man has a long needle-like thing he seems to be about to insert into her somewhere.
What kind of slut does this shit?
Owen
April is always the hardest month for me. I’m so close to the prize that it’s frustrating, yet I have a month’s worth of work left before me. My mind gets frazzled, as do my nerves. I hate how this always happens!
I left the operating room after a harrowing twelve hours of surgery on a woman’s face that was already perfectly fine, and came to find solitude in my office. The routine facelift had changed into a life-and-death situation when her heart stopped beating. Thank God for my staff and their endless knowledge. The woman, who’s a model, turned out just fine, but I was left a bundle of nerves.
It’s days like these when I wish I had a permanent bottom. Someone I could go to. Someone who’d just be quiet and let me do what I needed to, and then I could leave without so much as a word said between us.
That’s why I need my summer vacations at The Dungeon of Decorum. That is where I find what I need to help me make it through the year.
No cameras and no producers asking if I can possibly make the surgeries bloodier. Just me and my purchase who waits in the room I left her in.
My privacy is precious to me. As a celebrity of sorts—I’m one of the plastic surgeons on a reality television series entitled, Beverly Hills Reconstructions—I can’t let my little fetish become headline news. Nor can I expose the fact that I’m a member of a BDSM club in Portland, Oregon. I buy women for the summer months and keep them hidden away. They never see my face or know me by anything other than sir.
It’s best that way. No one can ever come back to haunt me.
I turn on my personal laptop and pull up the club’s website. Scrolling through the women who are already signed up to participate in this summer’s auction, I check them all out.
It’s not that I have a type, really, but I do like to have a few girls chosen before going to the auction. I’ve had various females in the last five years. Tall, short, curvy, thin, and one was an amputee. That one was interesting, to say the least.
I let her tell me that she had lost her leg in some accident. I prefer not to know anything about my bottoms. I like to keep things with them strictly sexual. Not that they get a lot out of it. I mean, some of them might’ve, but I don’t ask about things like that. I’m in it to get my rocks off, not pander to the female.
It’s crass, I know. That’s why I pay highly for what I want. I don’t treat the women I date that way, but I hardly ever date anyone for more than a month or two at a time.
My work has made me quite wealthy. I’m also pretty damn good looking to boot. I work out, so my body is on point. And that’s what makes me insecure.
Stupid, I know.
But it does. I mean, I’m smart as shit, a thing I feel like most women don’t pick up on. They all think of me as the air-head who fixes other air-heads’ faces and bodies. Being a plastic surgeon who specializes in maintaining the beautiful doesn’t garner respect from one’s peers.
I think my personality is charming, and even that has me wondering if the woman I’m with likes me for me or for what I look like, drive in, live in, or any of the other things that money can buy.
The blindfolds are used so the women I purchase can’t see me. I keep her hands tied back so she can’t run them over my muscular body. I don’t talk much so they can’t fall victim to my charms. They get me in my most basic of forms. They get my cock and that’s all they get.
So far, no bottom has ever fallen for me. And I’ve never fallen for one of them. When the summer is over, the contract is up and we go our separate ways, the woman none the wiser of who she just had sex with and me with no remorse or guilt about walking away from her.
It’s clean and easy, about the only thing in my life that is that way.
My parents are divorced. Even though my brother, three sisters, and I are grown, they still use us against each other. We’re their weapons and they use us every chance they get. I hate it!
So, I moved as far away from New York as I could get. Los Angeles called my name after I finished medical school back east. And now Mom and Dad have a hell of a hard time using me to hurt my siblings. It’s great.
Moving down the screen, I look at one pretty face after another, but none are jumping out at me. It shouldn’t even matter what they look like, but somehow it still does.
A quick knock on my door has me closing my laptop. “Come in.”
One of my fellow plastic surgeons, Dr. Dena Dion, comes into the room. “Owen, come with me to dinner this evening. My old friend from college is in town and she wants me to meet her husband. I don’t want to go alone.”
“No,” I say, then sit back in my high-backed chair.
She comes around my desk and plops down onto my lap, then runs her arms around me. “Please, Owen. I’m begging you. I hate to show up to meet a married couple all alone. You can do this for me. It’s the least you could do, really.”
Brushing her light blonde hair off her shoulder I say, “I’m sorry about fucking you, then not wanting to date you, Dena. I’ve apologized to you a thousand times for that.”
“I know you have. But you’ve still found yourself at my house more than a few late nights, sneaking into my bed. I think you feel more for me than you’re letting on. And I think I could make you into the man you could be if I groomed you.”
And now she’s pissed me off. This is why I know we can never have a future together. “I don’t want to be groomed.” I’m the one who does the grooming!
I pick her up and place her back on her feet. “Owen!”
“No. Have a great night with your friend and her hubby. I’m not dating you.” I get up and grab my laptop to take it home. “I’m out of here. See you on Monday.”
“Well, don’t you dare try to come to me this weekend after you’ve had too much to drink and feel like you want a taste of my sweet pussy, Owen.”
I open the door to my office and nod my head gesturing for her to get the hell out. “You have nothing to worry about. I have a lot of research to do this weekend. I won’t be getting drunk and bothering you. Feel free to have another man in your bed this weekend.”
“So, you won’t be using me?” she asks as she walks past me, then runs her hand over my cheek. “I know I give you a hard time about it, but I like it when I wake up to find you breathing hard over me, then taking me like some kind of an animal. I just wish you’d make it more of a habit.”
“I’m sorry that I do that, Dena. It’s not fair to you. You should change the locks on your doors. The liquor makes me do things I shouldn’t.” I eye her and wish like hell I could control myself when I drink too much.
At least I only seem to bother her when I get into that state and she seems to like it well enough. But I don’t really like the woman. She’s bossy, overbearing, and not at all my type. I only fuck her because I can.
“Owen, you turned thirty-four last week. When do you think, you’ll be ready to settle down? You’re not getting any younger. You won’t be a catch for much longer.” Her hand moves over my shoulder and she leans in for a kiss.
I back up. “Thanks for the advice. I better hurry up and find someone to marry before my expiration date comes up.”
Walking away from her, I hurry to get to the elevator before she does. That’s not the first time she’s used my age to try to knock my ego into the dirt. She can be such a huge bitch sometimes!
“Owen, I’m sorry,” she calls out as I step onto the elevator.
She stops as the doors close. “Take the next one, Dena.”
The doors close and I drop my head, staring at my shiny black shoes. I’m a successful man. I have tons of things going for me, and only one little thing that I don’t want anyone to know about. And that one thing seems to be my downfall, the thing that sets me apa
rt from normal people.
If I could stop doing it, I would. I can only manage to keep it under control for just so long. The urge is building in me as summer approaches and my time grows near.
Soon I’ll be able to do it as much as I want and get it out of my system for a while. I just wish I could get it completely out of my system. Maybe then I could have a normal relationship.
Getting into my car, I open my laptop to check my personal email and find the page for the club is still up. A new woman’s face is at the top of the list.
She has a really nice face. Gorgeous brown eyes that look sweet staring back at me. Her hair hangs in a black sheet of silk around her heart-shaped face. Plump lips the color of cotton candy stand out against her creamy tanned skin.
Now, who is this Petra Bakari?
Petra
After agonizing over my decision about becoming a bottom, or submissive, for the summer, I finally accepted the fact that I had to do something to fix my current situation. No one was going to step in and hand me twenty thousand dollars!
I needed money badly. So badly that I would rent out my body. At least I had some say in what would happen to it, and Leticia was going to help me test my limits before I got in over my head.
A week had passed after she and I talked. I was sitting under a tree, listening to bird’s chirp with happy sounds while I glared at my bank account on my cell phone screen. My part-time job at the little café wasn’t cutting it. Suddenly, there she was, like an angel sent from above.
White layers of a mid-thigh-length dress flowed around her. “Hey, Petra. The long face you’re wearing doesn’t look great on you. Care to come hang at my place for a while? Clear your head a bit?”
I followed her like a moth to a flame. She radiated confidence and had a calmness about her that beckoned to me. I wasn’t sure I’d fall into what she’d offered, but when I got to her place, I was all in.
Luxuriant furnishings filled her large apartment. Nothing was cheap, and the way she was so damn calm about shit had me thinking that I was overthinking the whole thing. I told her to sign me up and I’d deal with my mind. I’d be crazy not to do it!
Now I sit here and wait for Leticia to come into her bedroom where I’m waiting in the submissive position she taught me. We’re role-playing to help me get desensitized to being treated like a lesser person, a thing I’ve never really dealt with.
I’m to get out of my head and into the act of what this is. It is just an act, after all. I’m not really thinking I’m less than anyone. Wearing a sexy lingerie piece has me feeling a lot like another person too.
Leticia has so many sexy outfits that it boggles my mind. She’s four inches taller than I am and slender, while I have some curves, but she managed to find a few things of hers that fit me nicely, generous giving them to me. Plus, she’s going to buy my outfits for the auction, so I’ll fit in well with the other women there.
She’s kind of like a hero to me, helping me to see that this isn’t really as bad as I thought it was. I’ve had tons of sex for free, so why not get paid to do it a particular way some rich guy wants?
The door opens and in she walks. She slaps a short whip against her thigh, making a sharp slapping sound that has my body tensing up as I keep my head bowed. “Up, slave!”
I get up quickly, just as she instructed me to, but my head stays bowed, not looking at her at all. “Yes, Master.”
“Um, I think you should just use the term ‘sir’ for this,” she says. “The auction isn’t one of those slave auctions. It’s just a submissive one. So your guy most likely won’t want to be called that.”
“Yes, sir,” I correct myself.
“Good girl,” she purrs, as if I’m a puppy or something.
It makes me smile as I hold in my laughter. Leticia catches it and smacks me lightly on my ass. “Oh!” I yelp and look at her with a smile on my face. “You know what? That didn’t even hurt. It just surprised me.”
With a smile, she smacks me again and I jump, but not out of pain. It’s only a reaction to it. “Don’t worry, your brain will soon take over how your body reacts.” She does it again in three rapid swats and she’s right. I stop responding to it and find my skin only stings a bit—nothing terrible. “If I kept it up, it would eventually hurt you and might even make you cry. But I don’t want you to worry about that. We’re just getting you used to being hit by things, learning how they feel, and making the conversions in your brain about them.”
“I suppose we’re all hard-wired to react to any type of pain that way. Your brain tells your body to get the hell away from it or there might be some severe damage.” I run my hand over my ass cheek and feel some whelps that sting worse with my touch.
“Those will go away in a little while. Just don’t mess with them. And if you do find yourself with any that bother you, just cover them in pain-killing antibiotic ointment. The wounds are very superficial, and your Top usually will take care of anything that happens to your body when you’re under his care.”
She struts over to the bed and gestures for me to come to her. Getting back into my role, I lower my head and go to her. “Now what?” I ask as I wait for her to show me what’s next.
“Now I want to use the paddle on you. Lean over the bed, leaving your bottom exposed. I’ll administer three strikes, then we can see where you’re at with the level of pain.” She walks away to get the paddle and I take the position she’s told me to.
I feel kind of weird for doing this. I didn’t get a lot of spankings as a kid. It feels unnatural for me to be allowing this to be done to me, but I have to give it a try. It could mean more money for me if my list is longer.
So far, I’ve only clicked on a few things I’m okay with. Blindfolding is acceptable and some forms of bondage are, as well. But nothing has been checked on the Impact Play List—the list I affectionately call ‘the hitting list.’ That’s something Leticia has told me is a real plus, and not nearly as bad as I’ve been thinking.
“Ready?” she asks me as she comes up behind me.
“I think so,” I say, then grit my teeth and clench my ass cheeks.
“Um, you can’t tense up, Petra. You’re supposed to accept this. You know what I mean?” she asks me as she rubs the paddle in circles around my ass.
“Accept it,” I mumble. “Yeah, okay.” I try my hardest to breathe in and out to calm myself, but it does little to help me. I’m just going to be afraid of it right now. That’s just how it is.
Smack!
The first hit isn’t that bad. “One,” I say under my breath.
Another lands on my ass and now I can feel a dull throbbing sensation. “Two,” Leticia says. “One more.”
“Okay,” I manage to make myself say, even though I really don’t want to add to the pain that’s radiating all over my ass.
One more makes my stomach hurt as the pain resonates inside of me. “Uh!” I moan with the pain. “No more.”
Petra pulls me up and looks at me with curious eyes. “Tell me exactly what you feel.”
“Throbbing. My ass is pulsing and I kind of feel sick to my stomach.” I hold my hand on my tummy to help ease the discomfort.
“Lie back on the bed. I want to see something,” she directs me.
I do as she’s said and watch her as she places her palm on my lingerie-covered pussy. My eyes are glued to where her hand is. “Um, whatchya doin’ there?”
“You’re hot.” She looks at me and winks. “Can I see if you’re wet?”
My voice comes out really high, “Like, stick your finger inside of me?”
She nods. “Not pump it or anything. Just see if that made you wet.”
“Okay,” I say as I nod. I’m not really sure about this, but I suppose it’s not much different than when I go to the doctor about my birth control stuff and have a physical examination.
Pushing the thin layer between my legs to one side, she slips her finger into me and nods. “You’re wet. That did turn you on.”
/> “And what does that mean?” I ask as I watch her pull her finger out of me and look at it for a moment.
“It means you might end up liking that kind of thing.” Her eyes cut to me. “Do you mind if I taste it?”
“What?” I ask as I sit up. “Leticia!”
“Some of the men like to watch the women they buy be with other women. Last year, mine did. He brought in another woman and had us pleasure each other, then him. It was erotic. Not that I prefer women to men, but it made him happy and that’s the name of the game. So, can I lick my finger?”
I nod as I stare at her and wonder if this is really a thing I can do. Her eyes close as her mouth closes around her finger and she moans. I’m riddled with curiosity. “Is it good?”
Leticia opens her eyes and gives me a smile as she nods. “Maybe we should add in some sex toys. I don’t want you to feel odd if your Top asks you to do a thing like this.”
“Wait,” I say as I think about what the fuck she’s asking of me. “Can’t I mark this as a hard limit?”
“You can, but, why would you?” she asks. “It doesn’t hurt you.”
“I’m not gay,” I say and look at her like she’s crazy.
“Neither am I,” she says, then walks over to a drawer and produces a long, thick, black vibrator. “What’s the difference if I lick you into an orgasm or you use this to stimulate one?”
“A lot,” I tell her as I move up on the bed.
“Open your mind, Petra. Become the sexual goddess that resides within you. You have no idea how much you’ll be able to please your man if you’re open to a lot of things. And in turn, you’ll find yourself being more pleased than you knew possible.”
My heart is pounding. My body is on fire and I don’t understand why that is exactly. I kind of want to know what it feels like to be touched by her. But then again, I don’t.
Reaching out to her, I see my hand shaking. “Do you think this will help me to get ready for the huge adjustment I’m in for?”
“I think each thing we do here will help you to be what you’ll need to for the man who buys you for the summer. If they’re pleased with you, they usually add on generous bonuses to the money you’re already getting. You want more money, don’t you?”
Doctor's Demands: A Submissives’ Secrets Novel Page 2
