Relapse (Doctor Dom Volume 4) (A BDSM & Medical Play Novella)

by Tara Crescent

  His hands gripped and kneaded my ass cheeks, and I could feel his breath against my ass. Then, his tongue danced on that tight bud, and I squealed a startled squeak, and almost jumped.

  “Shh,” he said, and resumed. His tongue danced a tight spiral around my asshole, and I groaned in response. Then his mouth went to my pussy, sucking in my lips, nibbling, biting and licking every dripping inch. I moved my legs wider and thrust my ass every further out towards him, begging him silently for more.

  He was happy to oblige. For minutes, he stayed at my pussy, sucking my inner lips into his mouth, flicking his tongue over my clitoris, taking a leisurely lick of my slit. I stayed still, mindful of the crop balanced on my arched back, but it was the hardest thing I’d done. The only thing that kept me obedient was the thought that as punishment, he might stop what he was doing.

  “Oh fuck, Patrick,” I ground out as his hand came out to grab my thigh, and his mouth kept working my pussy. “Please…” I could feel his other hand dance on my back, and then the crop swatted my ass at the same time. I bit my lip, and prepared to dance at that dividing line between pleasure and pain. My Dom would keep me there for a while.

  “Oh my god, fuck, yeah, please,” I moaned, entirely incoherent as his teeth and his tongue played with my pussy and my clitoris. I could hear him make guttural noises of appreciation, and the growls from Patrick just made me even more aroused. Even closer to orgasm.

  He pulled away for a minute. “Don’t even think about coming,” he warned me, and then resumed his dancing assault on my pussy.

  I gritted my teeth and held on. I was torn between needing to obey him and wanting to smack him on the head for torturing me in such a way.

  Right when I was going to scream yellow, convinced I couldn’t hold on any longer, he pulled away, and stood up. He straightened my body, and then pulled me into his chest, and he kissed my neck, and nibbled at my earlobe. “Such a tasty treat,” he smiled into my ear. I whimpered again. I had been so close.

  He backed away, and I took several deep breaths, coming down from that narrow ledge. Then, he moved towards me again, and pressed the shaft of the crop against my mouth. “Open,” he ordered. “Hold it for me.” His hands pulled my breasts out from the corset, and he cupped and squeezed them, running his palms over my nipples. I arched back into him, and leaned my head against his shoulder.

  His hands traced pathways down my body. Breasts. Waist. Hips. Ass. A short swipe of my pussy, then my breasts again. I whimpered as he once more took me higher and higher on the path of arousal, and I struggled again to hold back my climax.

  “Such a good girl,” he breathed into my neck, and he tipped my head firmly and kissed me again. For a minute, I just gazed into his eyes, drowning in his clearly visible expression of lust. He finally shook his head slightly, and pulled away, but I could see a half-smile on his face. Patrick wasn’t unaffected by what he was doing to me. But he was good at holding on to his control.

  “Let’s turn you around,” he said, freeing my hands, and spinning me so that I faced him. “How are your shoulders, can you get tied up again?” he asked, checking in. I nodded.

  “Good,” he said, and quickly strapped me back to my closet door restraints. As he fastened them in place, his knuckle brushed against a nipple, as if by accident, and I moaned and rubbed my breast against his hand. I was a shameless, panting ball of need, and I flushed at how wanton I was being. But my embarrassment was outweighed by my lust.

  He eyed me sternly as soon as he caught on to what I was doing, and his palm delivered a stinging blow to the offending breast, setting it swaying to and fro. “Are you allowed to rub yourself against me?” he demanded, and I was angry with myself, disappointed in my failure to obey and be good for him.

  I shook my head hastily. He was being very dominant tonight, and my submission ran deep in me as well.

  “Then obey,” he snapped, and I nodded my acceptance.

  He lowered his mouth to my nipple, drawing it into his mouth and biting the tip softly till I whimpered. His fingers played with the other breast, and I stayed as still as I could. His mouth trailed kisses on my breasts, and he encouraged me to wrap a leg around him so that my dripping crotch came in contact with his erection. The temptation to grind against his cock was so great, but I held motionless with effort. I moaned, the crop in my mouth preventing me from forming words, from pleading with him for release.

  His hands pulled my hips into his body, and his fingers found my pussy and pushed in. He finger-fucked me while I moaned, incoherent with need. He added a thumb up my ass, and I mewled through the crop. “Such a nice, wet pussy,” he said with satisfaction, as his other hand gripped my ass painfully. His mouth kept on my breasts, sucking my nipples into his mouth till they were swollen and tender and very, very engorged.

  I was moaning almost constantly. I was afloat on a sea of sensation, and I clung to Patrick and I let myself surrender to him. He would keep me safe.

  He bit my nipple, and I groaned Patrick, and the crop in my mouth dropped on to the floor. “Did you drop the fucking crop?” he asked me, his voice dangerous. He drew away from me, and his palm delivered two stinging slaps to my breasts. “Stand up straight.”

  “I’m sorry,” I sobbed, and he leaned forward and kissed me.

  “Check in, baby. How are you doing?”

  I looked at him. The intensity of a really good session was still there, but I blinked my lust aside and I smiled at him. “I’m doing great,” I said. “I’ll tell you, I promise.” A brief pang of my heart. He was right to check in on me. Because though he didn’t yet know it, I had shown that I couldn’t be trusted.

  “Get on your knees,” he ordered, interrupting the unpleasant journey that my thoughts had taken me on. I was happy to obey. He bent and picked the crop up off the floor. “You know you weren’t allowed to drop the crop, didn’t you?”

  “Yes, Dr. Anderson,” I whimpered. The crop swished through the air, and I clenched my ass in anticipation, but the blow didn’t fall.

  “Remember the ginger, Lisa?” His voice was dangerous. “You clench that ass, I will leave you here, go to a grocery store, find a piece of ginger and shove it up your ass, do you understand me?”

  He was being so strict with me. So dominant. Every word he spoke sent arousal threading through me. I nodded silently and forced my muscles to relax. The crop swished experimentally a couple of times, and I clenched my fingers into a fist, but my ass muscles remained slack. Two quick strokes of the crop eventually struck my ass, and I bit my lip. The blows hadn’t been hard, just sharp and stinging. They stoked the fires of my arousal even higher.

  He knelt next to me, and his fingers found my dripping pussy, and he coated his fingers in my juice. “Open your mouth,” he ordered, and I parted my lips obediently. I thought he would shove his fingers into my mouth, but he instead rubbed his fingers against my lips so that my juices were smeared all over them. “So fuckable,” he ground out. “It’s taking all the control I have to not take you on the floor right now.”

  I mewled. “Please Patrick,” I begged, but he didn’t respond to my whimpers. He just smiled at me, drew my hair back, and kissed the back of my neck. I closed my eyes, and just let myself feel.

  “No, no,” he chided. “I want you to keep your eyes open.” I complied reluctantly with his demand, and he smiled at me again, and stood up. “Open your mouth, kitten.”

  His cock. He was finally going to let me suck his cock. Oh thank god. I couldn’t wait.

  “Wider,” he added, seeing my open mouth. He just stood there, looking down at me, sitting on my haunches, my hands resting on my thighs, my mouth ready for his cock, and he smiled at me with complete male satisfaction.

  His fingers on his zipper moved excruciatingly slowly, but I kept very quiet and very still. I was so close to my reward, to feeling him in my mouth. I was not going to risk upsetting him. He was perfectly capable of tucking himself back in and walking away if I wasn’t obedient enough.r />
  He pulled out his cock, and my mouth opened even wider, and he chuckled. “An exceedingly flattering reaction, that one,” he smiled at me. He placed the head of his cock at my lower lip, and I sat there, waiting for him to give me permission to begin.

  “Suck,” he ordered, and a wide smile split my face before I quickly controlled myself and took his cock into my mouth, taking it as deep down my throat as possible, before pulling back and repeating the motion. I reached out with one hand and gripped the base of his hard shaft, and my other hand cupped his balls. He groaned as my mouth enveloped him, and his hands stroked my hair. I kept my motion steady and bobbed my mouth up and down his cock. Far before I was ready though, he pulled away from me, and I whimpered in protest.

  “I want to come in that pretty pussy,” he explained with a smile. “Get on the bed, hands and knees.”

  I jumped to comply. He pulled my thighs right to the edge of the bed, and I heard the familiar tearing of the condom wrapper before he shoved into me, hard and fast and perfect.

  “Please, Patrick,” I begged openly, my voice almost breaking. “Please stop teasing me. Please fuck me hard.”

  He laughed. “Oh baby, you are going to get precisely what you wish for,” he growled. His fingers moved to my clitoris, and he started circling it with the steady spirals that he knew would get me off incredibly fast.

  Sure enough, I felt the familiar urge rise in me. A hot pulsing need, concentrated around his fingers, waiting to explode and engulf me. “Patrick, may I come?” I begged.

  “You can either hold on for me to come first,” he offered. “Or if you want to come, you can come now, and I will keep rubbing your clit till I’m done.”

  I took that to imply consent, and I stopped forcing myself to hold back. I just gave into it all; the feel of his hard cock thrusting in my body, the slap of his balls against me, the frantic feeling of lust in the air, the tight circles his fingers were tracing around my clitoris. “I’m coming,” I shrieked, as I exploded, and I immediately tried to push away from him, only to be punished with a stinging slap on my pussy.

  “No, no, no,” I chanted, but I wasn’t pleading for him to stop. I needed him to keep going. He would take my body past the first threshold, and then he would help me reach another threshold, and then yet another, and I needed him to do this to me despite me trying to flail away from him.

  He knew my body well, and he did exactly that. I spiralled out of control, once, twice, a third time, and then finally a painful fourth time, and at the last, he finally slammed into me hard, and I could feel him groan as he found his release.

  ***

  “You good?” he asked me as we slumped in bed, sweaty and exhausted. I’d had enough energy to brush my teeth, and that was it. Patrick had managed the additional task of blowing out all the candles.

  “Mmm. You aren’t joking around with the dominance, are you?”

  He laughed. “You were glorious,” he told me with a smile, as I draped myself around his body. “Is it too much for you?”

  I shook my head. “You know, I hadn’t realized until I met you how much I missed it,” I said thoughtfully. “I thought an odd spanking here and there would be enough.”

  “I can relate,” he said.

  I giggled at a sudden thought. “You know, the first time at the lounge? When I asked you to spank me? I didn’t think you were particularly dominant.”

  He chuckled. “I didn’t think you were particularly submissive either,” he admitted. “Appearances can be deceptive.”

  “Yup,” I agreed. “Plus, we can also blame the vodka for some distraction.”

  “I don’t drink vodka very often,” Patrick mused, “but I will confess I’ll always have a soft spot for it. Because if it weren’t for vodka-fuelled courage, I would have never been quite so blatant about my intentions.”

  I giggled. “I’m glad you were,” I said. I leaned over and kissed his cheek. “Good night, Patrick,” I mumbled.

  His fingers tightened around mine, and I drifted off to sleep, nestled in his arms.

  Chapter 13

  Patrick:

  The football game was at one in the afternoon. I had vacillated back and forth about going. I was reluctant to expose Doug and Sara to any danger, but I had called David, the guy who ran the company that was providing us security, and he had told me to go.

  “No sign of him, Patrick,” he had boomed at me over the phone. “Live your life as normally as you can. Don’t get sucked up in this.” It was easier said than done, but this was what David did for a living. I saw no point hiring experts and then second-guessing their opinions.

  Plus, I really did want Lisa to meet my friends.

  “I’m nervous,” Lisa yelled over the noise of the hair-dryer.

  I walked into the bathroom, and smiled at her. “Why?”

  “Cause,” she said, exasperated. “Friends. You choose them. It isn’t like family. It matters what your friends think.”

  “My friends told me to go talk to you that first night in the bar,” I pointed out.

  She rolled her eyes at me. “That was just because I was single and available,” she said. “That’s a lower bar.”

  I moved her hair aside and kissed her shoulder, keeping my eyes on her face in the mirror. “My friends will love you,” I assured her.

  “They better,” she said gloomily. I probably shouldn’t have laughed at her, but I did. She was awesome; I didn’t see what she was worried about.

  ***

  Sara opened the door. She was literally glowing. “Patrick, look!” she exclaimed, waving her finger at me. It took me a couple of seconds to realize she was showing off her engagement ring. “Doug mentioned he’d told you he was going to ask.”

  “Congratulations,” I told her. “I’m surprised Doug remembers anything from that night.” There had been a lot of whiskey involved. “Sara, Lisa.” I quickly introduced the two of them.

  “Come in, you two,” Doug walked up.

  Sara flushed and moved aside. “Sorry, where are my manners?”

  I handed Doug the case of beer I had brought, and he grinned. “You must be Lisa,” he said, setting the case down to shake Lisa’s hand. “I’ve heard a lot about you; Patrick can’t stop talking about you.”

  I cleared my throat. “With friends like these,” I started pointedly, then just laughed and grabbed a couple of beers, handing Lisa one.

  Lisa grinned. “Really?” she asked. “What does he say about me?”

  “Right, that’s quite enough,” I said in protest, and both Lisa and Sara burst into peals of laughter.

  “Patrick, you are beet-red,” Sara giggled. Doug was trying not to laugh as well, and Lisa was openly amused.

  “This is fun,” she whispered to me as we settled on the couch.

  “You’ll pay for the giggling later,” I muttered into her ear.

  She winked at me. “I’ll hold you to that,” she promised.

  The doorbell rang at that moment, and Doug got up to let Allison and James in. There was more excited squealing about Sara’s ring, and then I introduced Lisa to the two of them.

  “I have you to thank for the lingerie?” Sara asked Allison.

  Allison laughed. “I only gave him the catalogue,” she said. “Patrick picked it out all by himself.”

  “I did,” I grinned slightly sadistically as I watched Lisa blush in return. Hey, turnabout was fair play. Doug interrupted before Lisa smacked me in retaliation and steered us towards the food before the game got underway. He had made chili.

  “Unlike Patrick, I only really know how to make three things,” Doug explained to Lisa. “I’m assuming spicy is okay?”

  She nodded. “Patrick cooks?”

  Doug raised an eyebrow. “He’s an excellent cook. He hasn’t cooked for you yet?”

  I raised my hands defensively. “We’ve been busy,” I said.

  Lisa turned to me. “You’ve been holding out on me,” she teased.

  I smiled at her. �
�Tell you what? When you are done tearing apart my kitchen and put it all back together, I’ll cook for you.”

  She made a slightly protesting noise. “That’s weeks away,” she said. “But okay.”

  ***

  We snuggled on the couch. “Do you watch football, Lisa?” Sara asked. “I don’t watch the game at all, Doug had to explain everything to me when we first started watching.”

  She nodded. “My dad’s a huge Bills fan,” she said. “We used to watch all the games together growing up.”

  “I didn’t know that,” I said, surprised. “If you like football, we should drive to Buffalo one of these days. Watch a game.”

  She smiled. “That’d be great,” she said.

  ***

  During commercial breaks, we all chatted. Lisa discovered Doug, James and I had gone to Queens together. “We moved off campus pretty quickly, and got an apartment,” James said, grinning. “Doug was the youngest, but Patrick and I were both older. The dorms just weren’t cutting it.”

  “That’s how you know Patrick can cook?” she asked.

  Doug nodded. “We took turns cooking,” he said. “Though James ended up bearing the brunt of the cooking load.”

  “Yup, these two were living the single college life, wild women all the time, and I was the guy with the steady girlfriend,” James laughed, taking Allison’s hand in his.

  I grinned. “It wasn’t quite as exciting as all that,” I protested. Lisa raised her eyebrow at me. “Okay, fine, some of it was pretty fun,” I admitted, and she laughed at me.

  As I had predicted, my friends loved Lisa, and I loved that they loved her. I would have dated Lisa anyway, no matter what they thought. But once you got to a certain age, it would have been a troubling sign if your friends didn’t like your girlfriend.

  “That was fun,” Lisa admitted as we left.

  “So,” I teased her. “I met your friends and hopefully passed the boyfriend test. You’ve met my friends and clearly aced the girlfriend test. What next?”

  She looked at me. “Parents,” she said, her tone perfectly dry.