When I open the door, I don’t find someone looking to pick up my dishes. Instead, I find Pat. “Petra, it seems your Dom is about to make a visit. Come on. Let’s hurry up and get you ready. Do you need to shower, shave or anything like that?” She rushes past me and I close the door.
Placing the dishes on the little table beside the door, I find my legs weak and my tummy filling with butterflies who seem nervous in and of themselves. “I took a shower just a little while ago.” I follow her to the bedroom. “He’s coming?”
“He is,” she says as she gathers a red blindfold and four sets of handcuffs. “Did you pick out a gag you like?”
“It’s on the nightstand.” I point it out, and she nods.
“Okay, strip while I get the bed ready.” She goes to the bed and pulls the blanket and sheet down in a neat fashion as I take off my barely-there teddy and go to the bed.
“How does he want me?”
“On your back and cuffed to the bed.”
I lay down, and she starts at my feet, cuffing each ankle, then cuffing the other side to the bed post. It’s only then that I realize the bed was built for bondage. It has four posts and is only a full-size bed, so the occupant can be tethered to each post, spread-eagle style.
“Did he say anything to you?” I ask her as she goes about her business of tying me down.
“Only what he wanted me to do for him.” She looks at me for a moment with a smile on her face. “He hasn’t been here in a few days; did you miss him?”
A short burst of laughter comes out of me. “That’s all I’ve done.”
Worry fills her expression as she says, “Petra, don’t go falling in love. This isn’t the place for that. This is the place where you realize fully that you are trading your energy for other things. Money is at the top of that list, followed by discipline, sexual liberation, and a lot of other smaller things. Love is nowhere on that list.”
“I know that,” I say, but my heart skips a beat, as if to tell me that I’m only lying to myself. Shut up, heart!
She cuffs my right wrist and binds it to the bedpost, then does the same to the other. Pulling the blanket up to cover my naked body, she gives me another smile. “Well, here we go now. You’re all snuggly. You should just pretend to be asleep, he said. I suppose he likes to come in like a thief in the night, take what he wants, and leave. Your typical vampire lover scene.”
“Oh, is that what this is?” I ask, as I had never thought of that.
“Yes. He’s added in the bondage, but it’s a typical kink.”
“Someone should let him know that. He thinks he’s fucked up,” I tell her. “I’d tell him, but he seems set on gagging me to keep me from talking.”
She giggles and picks up the blindfold. “Want to hear what he told me about that?”
“Of course I do!”
“He said that I need to gag you because your voice does things to him he doesn’t like.”
“That doesn’t sound good,” I say as she hovers over me, waiting to stop me from seeing. “I guess it’s too deep and he thinks it’s manly.”
She laughs and puts the blindfold on me. “Far from that, I bet. His voice sounded a little raspy when he told me that. I think he finds it insanely attractive. His kink seems to involve being emotionally disconnected from his sub. The idea of liking anything about her isn’t what he wants. So, try your hardest not to make him think about you. Your reward, in the end, should be great.”
“Okay, I’ll try. Great advice, Pat. Thank you.” I hear the gag being picked up and ready myself to accept it willingly, even though I find it uncomfortable. But it’s the least invasive of the two that were here.
I make a little gagging sound as she tightens it. “Sorry, Petra. Well, I’m all done here. I’ll be back to get you out of all this as soon as he leaves. Bye now.”
I wiggle my fingers to wave goodbye to her, but can’t say a word. And then I wait. For an eternity, I wait to hear him coming in. Then I finally hear the door open and his faint footsteps pad across the floor.
My body heats in an instant, as I know he’s in the room now. He’s finally here!
The rustling of fabric lets me know he’s taking off his clothes, and then I feel the blanket being pulled back slowly. It’s as if he thinks I’m sleeping and is sneaking in on me.
Goosebumps spring up as he lightly runs his hand over my breast. My heart begins to pound as heat rushes through me, ending at my apex. His lips press against the side of my neck, and I wait to hear his deep, sexy voice. But nothing comes, except wetness between my legs.
One kiss, and he’s gotten all the way to me. A dull throbbing thumps in my pussy; the ache is already beginning. I want him. I want him inside of me now!
My arms move on their own, as I want to run my hands over him. My legs pull at the restraints too, as I want to pull my knees up so he can go deeper inside of me. But he’s still fondling my breasts as he kisses my neck, sending me into a frustration I’ve never felt before.
One of his hands travels down my stomach and he inserts one finger into me, then groans and moves his body over mine. I guess finding me so wet for him has him a little amazed, causing the groan.
Every part of me is pulling toward him as his body is over mine, but he’s not letting our bodies touch yet. The wait is agonizing!
Then he presses his chest against mine and my heart goes crazy. And I feel his pounding too. He can’t deny that we have something that’s not normal. But I bet he will anyway. How I wish I could talk!
His cock presses against the edge of my vagina, then he pushes harder and it goes in. The sound he makes is fantastic—a growl mixed with a moan, and even a little whimper is in the background.
I love it!
He eases in and out of me in at a slow pace, almost as if he’s sure I’m asleep and is trying very hard not to wake me up. But I find I can move my core and arch up to him. It’s not like I can help it. My body wants the man, and it wants him to take me hard and fast. I moan as he does the same and he moves faster and harder, with more effort put into it.
His hands tangle in my hair as he nuzzles my neck and fucks me, making little moans near my ear. I may not be able to talk with the gag in my mouth, but I can still moan. Writhing in the bonds he’s had me placed in, I moan to let him know how much I want him.
Our bodies move together like we’ve made love a thousand times before. In and out he goes as his lips move all over my neck, and then he finds a place he likes and bites and sucks at it as he fucks me into a mindless state.
It’s a place only he seems to be able to take me to. A fantasy world where Dr. Owen Cantrell comes to me in my dreams and makes me his. But only in my dreams. And he seems to be dead set on keeping things this way.
My mouth waters, as I want to feel his lips on mine and his tongue dancing with mine. My hands tingle as they yearn to touch those muscles that have been kept from them. Only my breasts, stomach, and pussy get to feel him, but all of me wants to.
My body betrays me and starts climaxing. I wanted this to last longer. I wanted it to go on long enough that I could convey more to him, and then maybe he’d set me free and we could get down and dirty. But I fall over the edge and I find him joining me as he goes stiff and shoots wet heat into me.
We both groan fantastically as our bodies take what they need from each other. He rests on top of me and I love the weight of him. Then he’s up, off of me, and I hear him go into the bathroom.
The water in the shower runs for about five minutes, then it stops. After a minute or so, I hear him walk into the bedroom. The rustling of clothes tells me he’s getting dressed, and then I hear the sound of the bedroom door closing. Then the front door closes too.
I’m left all alone, and he didn’t say a fucking word to me!
Tears sting my eyes as I feel used, unloved, and neglected. I feel horrible for allowing this to happen to me.
I’m better than this! I deserve more! And he’s just hiding from what I know he feels
for me!
I’m crying, and it’s hard with the damn gag in my mouth. My mind is racing, telling me that I can’t keep doing this. Money isn’t worth this pain I’m feeling.
The bedroom door opens. “Petra, it’s Pat.”
Thank God!
My legs are uncuffed, then my arms, and finally she takes off the gag as I pull the blindfold off. I choke a little as the gag is removed. “Thank you.”
“You’re crying,” she says with concern. “Did he hurt you?”
“Only my pride and my heart. Nothing physical.” I get out of the bed and walk unsteadily to the bathroom.
“Petra, you can’t get emotionally involved with him,” she says as I walk away from her. “Please remember that.”
I nod and close the bathroom door behind me. I need a long soak in a hot tub. All I can think about right now is how this has to end. How I can’t do it.
The door opens just as I slip into the hot water. “Pat, can you have the sheets changed for me while I’m bathing? I don’t want to go back to them and smell him on them. It’ll only make me sadder.”
“I’ll do that for you.” She looks at me as tears cascade down my face. “Petra, I know we’re not supposed to tell the subs how much money is waiting for them, and I won’t tell you a dollar amount.”
I look at her with wide eyes, then wipe the tears away. “Is any amount of money worth all of this?”
She nods. “The amount that’s waiting for you is most certainly worth this. And he’s your first Dom. You should know that this happens a lot with the first man you give yourself to. The feeling goes away with time. And you build up an immunity to falling for the men who only want one thing from you. You learn to differentiate between love and lust. It’s a great lesson. You’ll even find it helps you in the real world. When a man comes on to you, you’ll be able to spot it right away. If he’s genuinely interested in you, you’ll see the difference between him and the men who want just your body.”
“Great,” I say as I splash water over my face. “What a relief!”
She laughs. “Sarcasm looks good on you, Petra. I’m serious. You’ll be thankful one day in the near future that you had this experience. That you learned the difference between a man who wants you for your body and one who wants you for your mind.”
“I’ll think about what you’ve said, Pat. Thank you for trying to help me. You’re very nice. Can you leave me to cry for a bit now?”
With a nod, she leaves me, and I burst into sobs, tears flowing anew.
Will I become calloused? Will I learn to spot men who want me for sex? Will anything good come out of this, other than being financially stable?
Owen
Sitting in the car in the parking garage at the club, I can’t seem to make myself leave. Everything feels so unfinished. I left her there without saying a single word!
I’ve done the same thing to my other subs and never felt so much as a moment of guilt over it. With Petra, I can’t seem to stop feeling guilt over everything. And I have to learn to stop this thing that seems to be escalating.
My cell rings and I pick it up off the passenger seat to see that it’s Petra. She’s not supposed to be calling me and she knows that. And I shouldn’t answer her, but I am going to because I can’t seem to stop myself. “Hello.”
Her voice is rough and raspy like she’s been crying, and already my heart is aching even worse than it was. “I know I’m not supposed to call you or talk to you. But I wanted you to know that I liked what you did. I can be that for you.”
Resting my head on the steering wheel, I mutter, “That’s still more than I usually do.”
“Then do to me what you usually do.”
Not sure that I even can do what I normally do with subs, I answer, “I might.”
I hear her sigh, then say, “Tell me what it is you’ve done to the others.”
“The others have had their arms tied back and their legs spread as they sit up on the bed. The bed is just high enough that I can slip my cock into them and hold them by the shoulders as I fuck them. I orgasm, then leave.
“Do that to me. It doesn’t sound bad at all,” she says, and acts as if it would be so easy for her to take.
I make a confession that I probably shouldn’t, “Petra, it’s not that easy. You see, I long to feel your soft skin. It’s almost impossible for me to want less than that. I must admit, I want even more from you.”
“You don’t have to do the same old thing, Owen. This may not be my place to say, but what if you’re evolving? You might be expecting more out of a woman you’ve paid so much for. I am yours to do with whatever you want. Anything at all. Just come back to me tonight. Let’s see if you can do to me what you did with the others, or do something different. Just come back, please.”
A sudden, gigantic burst of pure guilt comes over me, and I spurt, “I’m not sure what I want from you. And you’re not to call me. We are not friends, and I’ll see you when I want to.” I hang up the phone and feel awful before I even toss it back onto the passenger seat.
I’m an ass!
Why does this have to be so damn hard? And why am I getting out of my car and heading back into the club? And what the fuck am I going to do about this thing?
Leaving my cell behind, I lock the car up and head back inside. My heart is leading me, and my brain is letting it win. I go to the gift shop and look over the jewelry. The Dungeon of Decorum has a nice collection to choose from, and I pick out a necklace with a heart made from diamonds that should hit her about where her collarbones meet. It’ll look gorgeous on her, and that’s all I want. I want her to feel gorgeous. And I haven’t made her feel that way.
“Will this be all?” the cashier asks as she nods toward a very nice basket full of cheeses, fresh fruits, and a bottle of wine. “Because that’s a perfect place to hide this little beauty and really give your sub a surprise.” She pulls it over to show me everything that’s in the ornate basket. “I bet she’s been very good to you and you want to show her how much you appreciate everything she’s done.”
“She’s been perfect,” I mumble. “Better than I deserve.”
“Aww, I’m glad you got a good one,” she says as she puts the necklace in a black box. “How long have you two been partners?”
“Um, not long.” I pull the basket to me and look at the perfume too. “Add in a nice perfume, as well. She’s been very good for such a short amount of time. And I’ll take this basket. Can you have it delivered to apartment twenty-two?”
“I can. Do you want it delivered right away or some other time?” she asks as she pulls out a nice-looking perfume and sprays some on a small sampler, then wafts is around.
Taking in a sniff of the floral aroma, I nod. “That one will be perfect. And have it taken to her right away. I’m going to go to the bar.”
“Would you care to write her a note?” she asks as she pushes a pen and a pad of paper covered with hearts toward me.
I take it and write two words, ‘I’m sorry.’ Then I push it back to her and see a smile move over her face.
“I’m sure this will get her to accept your apology.” She pushes the bill to me and I sign it. “You’re so handsome; I can’t imagine any woman who could stay mad at you for very long, anyway.”
With a nod, I leave. Petra deserves more than trinkets as an apology for my shitty mouth. She deserves to hear the words come out of my mouth. She deserves so much more from me. And I’m not about to give it to her.
Finding the bar packed with couples, I already feel badly about being there and leaving Petra alone. But I have to do some soul searching. Something is different inside of me.
As I take a barstool near the end of the long bar, the bartender comes to me, drying a crystal glass. “Name your poison?”
“You name it for me. I want to get drunk. Can you help me with that?” I ask the man who looks at me with dark eyes which I know have seen some pretty bad things.
“Before I do you that service, can you t
ell me if you have a ride home this evening? If not, I’ll arrange one for you before I fix what ails you.”
“Oh, a bartender with responsibility. I like you already. I have an apartment here. But if I tell you I’m going to my hotel, get me a ride.”
“Sure thing,” he says as he holds out his hands. “Car keys, please, and I’ll get you set up.”
Handing him my keys, I make the pact with him that we’ll see me drunk in no time. Sometimes I just need a restart. I drink until I can’t anymore and it kind of resets my brain and gets me back on the right track. I need that right now.
I have no idea of what the man places in front of me, but I down it in one shot that leaves my throat burning. The heat moves down to my stomach and I give him a nod of approval. He sets me up again, then places a cold mug of beer in front of me. “I’ll let you finish that, then see how you’re doing.”
Sipping the beer, I think about my distaste for drunk women and why I feel it’s okay for me and not them. Maybe there’s a place inside of me that thinks they should be stronger than men. Women should be the support system of the family, not just as weak as their counterparts.
Mom was not a nurturer. Dad brought that up a lot when we were growing up. She’d go out and send us over to dad’s, telling us she had to have some ‘her time,’ My brother, sisters, and I would go to dad’s, tell him what mom had said, and he’d tell us how she was leaving us to go get drunk and laid and what a selfish bitch she was.
He did all this while consuming copious amounts of beer and watching things on television that were about as close to porn as one could get on public television. While making comments about Mom that had us kids, thinking some pretty bad thoughts about her.
Looking back at it all leaves me thinking about how I’m not fit to have children or a real woman in my life. I find my drinks gone and the bartender is setting me up again. “Thanks,” I tell him as he places the shot glass and another mug of beer down in front of me.
Doctor's Demands: A Submissives’ Secrets Novel Page 8
