Recovery (Doctor Dom Volume 5) (A BDSM & Medical Play Novella)

by Tara Crescent

  Suddenly, I felt his dick nudge my ass, and I giggled. “Ignore it,” he said ruefully. “Horrible timing. But there’s no way I can hold you so close to me and not be hard.”

  I smiled. “I’m flattered,” I said.

  “Not a statement of flattery, Lisa,” he said, his voice amused. “Just a statement of fact.”

  We lay there, chatting once a while about nothing very important, as the water slowly cooled. Then his phone rang, and I made a face as he got out of the bath, dripping all over me, and reached for it. “It’s the food,” he said, reaching for a towel. “Finish up, I’ll get the door.”

  When I got out, he had laid the food out on my dining table. Naan, spinach, potatoes, butter chicken and saffron rice. I raised an eyebrow at him, reaching for a piece of naan bread. “How many people did you order for?” I asked him.

  He rolled his eyes at me. “I’m helping stock your refrigerator,” he said dryly. “Besides, I didn’t know what you wanted.”

  “This is brilliant,” I told him, sitting at the table and helping myself to food. He did the same, and we ate quietly, our silence only broken by my appreciative sighs. When I was finally full, I pushed my plate away, and smiled at him. “No dessert?” I teased. He just smiled at me in reply.

  I wanted him. But tonight, I wanted more from him than just sex. I needed to be completely in his control. I took a deep breath. I wasn’t sure how my request would be received. We weren’t still completely back to the stage where I could ask him to dominate me without a twinge of worry. In for a penny, in for a pound, I told myself philosophically, and looked at him. “Patrick,” I said quietly. “I need my Dom tonight.”

  There was silence between us for a minute, and then he looked at me. His gaze was relaxed. “Are you sure?” he asked. “The last time you were traumatized and stressed, it wasn’t exactly the best time to play.”

  I exhaled in frustration. Fuck this shit. I was tired of apologizing for my sins. “Yes,” I snapped. “I made a mistake. I do learn from them, you know. I don’t make the same mistake twice.”

  A slow, amused smile spread across his face. “Just new mistakes then?” he asked me. “Like snapping at your Dom?” His voice had changed. Hardened, taking on those dominant, in-control tones that sent an electric shock of arousal all through my body. Oh, I was in so much trouble.

  “Bedroom,” he ordered me. “Take off all your clothes. Kneel on the floor and wait for me. And while you are kneeling,” he added, amused. “You might think of what a bad idea it is to snap at me.”

  “Yes, Dr. Anderson,” I muttered as I got up and went to obey.

  Chapter 13

  Patrick:

  I knew where she kept her sex toys, in an unmarked shoebox in her dresser. I entered the bedroom, ignoring with difficulty the sight of my naked girlfriend kneeling on the floor. Her legs were spread, her hands were on her thighs.

  It was a posture that should have troubled both of us. Her previous Dominant had required her to greet him at the door in such a fashion. Andrea liked to kneel as well, as part of her slave fantasy. But I was untroubled, and a big reason for that was that Lisa didn’t keep her eyes lowered. She looked at me as I entered, and her eyes watched me as I opened the drawer of her dresser, followed me as I took the box out and placed it on the bed.

  She had a surprisingly extensive selection of sex toys for someone who had avoided the BDSM scene for many years. When I had asked her about it, she had blushed and told me that she used the shopping process as fantasy. She had been too nervous at the prospect of seeking out a Dominant. But in her imagination? BDSM was never far from her mind.

  I hadn’t shopped for toys as a substitute for play, choosing to stay away from the BDSM scene entirely after Andrea. But I’d also failed to find any woman interesting enough to date on any kind of regular basis. Perhaps my subconscious had been sending me a message that I had not yet been prepared to hear.

  When she asked me to dominate her, I had heard the nervousness in her voice. I could understand why, but her hesitation was unnecessary. I could not wait to play with her; I could not wait to dominate her openly. And I knew why she asked tonight. She needed to replace the very real fear that she’d felt in the situation with Liam by the utter safety of a D/s session.

  With deliberate intent, I undid my belt, slid it from its loops. I walked slowly towards her, and put the belt around her neck, passing the end through the buckle, and drawing it around her throat. I stopped before it tightened. “Hold the belt to prevent it from choking,” I ordered, grinning to myself, and she complied. The order was partly for her safety – I was going to be tugging on the end of that belt, and I definitely did not want it to tighten around her neck. But it was also a way to immobilize her hands without bothering to tie her down.

  “Not wide enough,” I commented, looking at her spread knees. “Wider.” I moved my foot between her legs and nudged her thighs wider apart. She swayed a little, almost losing her balance, and I grabbed her hair to steady her, and she took a swift inward breath, looking into my eyes, her own eyes wide.

  We had played hard before. But there were specific elements of domination here that we hadn’t done before. The belt was a stand-in for a collar. Her posture, kneeling on the ground, was a lot more submissive than I had insisted on before.

  I didn’t play in clubs, so I didn’t really have a sense of what other people did. But with me, there were days when I wanted to keep the domination light, and days when I was going to insist on obedience. Today – the latter.

  I pulled a flogger out of her shoebox, and her eyes widened again. “Forehead on the floor,” I ordered. “Keep your hands at your throat.” It was an awkward position for her to assume, and I watched her obey with some unsteadiness. I put a hand on her shoulder to help, and she turned her head and kissed my wrist.

  “Whap.” The tails of the flogger caught the back of her thighs in a hard stroke, and she hissed.

  “Do only what you are told, Lisa,” I warned her. “I’m not going to go easy on you tonight.”

  Something in me sensed this hard edge is what she needed right now. What I needed. We had come close to losing each other today. She needed the sense of safety she found in submission, and I needed to replace the helpless fear I felt as I’d waited outside my house while she had been trapped inside with the sense of control I found dominating her. If I was wrong in the way I’d read the situation, she had her safe words, and she’d tell me.

  “Snapping at your Dom. Five strokes, and you can thank me at the end for going easy on you,” I told her, my voice hard.

  “Yes, Dr. Anderson,” she whispered from the floor. I brought the flogger down in five hard strokes down the crack of her ass. The tails snapped on her ass and the fleshy lips of her pussy, and she moaned softly, but didn’t move from her position when I was done. I watched her carefully, looking for signs of distress, quick breathing, any indication that she was flinching away from me in fear. There was none.

  Trust was the most beautiful of things. My trust in all things Dominance and submission had taken a beating after Andrea. The wounds had taken a long time to heal, and when Lisa had confessed that there was a session in which she thought the best way to atone for imagined sins was to eschew using her safe word, I had feared my trust was wounded again, perhaps beyond healing.

  But there are minor mistakes, and major sins, and talking stuff through with Jackie had helped me regain perspective. What Andrea had inflicted on me was a large, gaping wound. In comparison, Lisa’s sin was equivalent to a paper-cut. There was a tinge of pain, but the wound had healed quickly and without scarring.

  “Stand up,” I said.

  “Thank you for going easy on me, Dr. Anderson,” she said quietly as she rose. She waited patiently for my next order.

  I took off my shirt, tossing it on the bed, and moved next to her, running my hands all over her body. I cupped her beautiful breasts and spanked them, and her eyes hazed instantly with lust.

  �
�Do you like that, baby?” I asked her, my mouth at her ear. I nibbled at her earlobe as she moaned in response.

  “Yes, Dr. Anderson,” she whimpered. “Please…” Her voice trailed off. I bit back a smile. The next part of that sentence had been, do that again, but she had cut herself off before she earned herself another punishment for talking out of turn.

  “Good girl,” I told her, stroking her all the way from her neck down her back, cupping her ass and spanking her softly. She moaned softly, but held her body still with effort. My sweet submissive. She was so perfect.

  I played with her body for a few pleasurable minutes, just enjoying the feel of her skin against my palm, savouring the sounds of her little moans. I trailed kisses along her bruised jaw, and she softened instinctively against me, and I took a deep breath, striving for control. Her bed beckoned, and it was brutally hard to resist throwing her on the bed and fucking her senseless.

  That would come in time. For now, we had painful memories to forget, and new, pleasurable memories to make in their place.

  I reached forward and grabbed the long end of the belt, leading her to the bed. Her eyes widened as she saw that I led her as if the belt was a leash, and I watched her carefully for a second, probing for any signs of disquiet or unease. I’d promised that I’d push her boundaries, but I always needed her to feel cherished and desired.

  “Umm,” she said, her voice hesitant. “I know I’m supposed to keep quiet, Patrick, but wow, this is hot.”

  I laughed with her for a second, then I made eye contact with her. “Show me,” I ordered, letting go of the belt so that she too could let it go and move her fingers between her folds. She parted them for me, giving me a peek of that beautiful, glisteningly wet pussy, and my cock hardened painfully in response.

  I grabbed her hand roughly, and sucked on her fingers, tasting her sweet juices with my eyes closed. So fucking perfect.

  “Leash?” I had to fight to keep my voice light and amused when all I wanted to do was growl with lust. “I have some shopping to do.”

  She blushed. I gestured, and she once again put her fingers around the belt around her throat, holding it in a way to give herself some breathing room. I grabbed the long end again, and bent her over the foot of her bed, inserting my leg once again between hers to nudge her feet wide apart.

  Bent over her bed, her ass and the lips of her pussy on display, she was gorgeous. I couldn’t stop touching her; I didn’t want to stop touching her. I drew my hand down the line of her back, cupping her ass and spanking it lightly, and she moaned and shifted her feet restlessly, her elbows moving on the bed as she squirmed under my touch.

  “How does it feel, baby?” I asked her. I knew the answer, her wet pussy was a dead giveaway. But I loved the sound of her voice in a session. Sweet and submissive and quiet, sometimes with a thread of sass running through it.

  “Good,” she said, her voice a throaty murmur. “So good. I love the way you touch me.”

  I bent over her, pressed my mouth to her ear. “I love touching you,” I admitted. My fingers moved to her beautiful mouth and she opened instantly, sucking them in as if they were my cock. My erection grew some more, if such a thing were even possible. I’d been painfully aroused the instant I’d walked into the bedroom.

  If she kept sucking, I was going to explode on her back like a teenager. I willed my lust back with difficulty and pulled my fingers from her mouth, turning instead to her shoebox of sex toys. One toy in particular drew my attention. A Wartenberg wheel, with its characteristic sharp metal spikes around the wheel edge.

  “You have a very interesting shoebox of sex toys, Lisa,” I grinned. Oh, this was going to be so much fun.

  She turned to look at what I had in my hand, and I saw the sharp flare of arousal in her eyes. “Have you used it before?” I asked her.

  She nodded. “I’ve tried it on myself,” she admitted.

  “Did you enjoy it?” Enthusiastic nodding this time, and I kissed her quickly on her lips, making no effort to hide my appreciation. Lisa was so unexpected. She never failed to surprise me.

  “Put your tongue out,” I ordered, straightening. She looked a little wide-eyed for a second. She said she’d used it before, and I imagined she’d used it on her nipples. Her tongue? Probably the first time.

  My eyes narrowed at the hesitation, and she quickly obeyed, sticking her tongue out at me. I rolled the wheel lightly, watching her face to see what she thought of the sensation. There was only heat in her eyes. Still, I pulled the wheel back, and gave her a minute to collect herself, see if she wanted to call Yellow to step it back.

  She didn’t. I laughed inwardly as she kept her tongue sticking out. My sweet little kitten wanted more. God, this woman was perfect.

  I moved the wheel down her side, running up her arms from her elbow to her shoulder, and then following the curve of her waist and her hips, moving over her firm ass cheeks. She moaned softly, and shifted restlessly once again, pushing her hips towards me in unmistakable invitation. All in due time, love, I thought, though my fingers clenched into a fist as I sought control in the face of her obvious, overwhelming arousal. All in due time.

  The wheel traced a path on the outside of her thighs, down to her legs, then I moved it up her leg, on the insides this time. She went very still as the wheel inched up her inside thigh, so achingly close to her pussy. Again, she pushed her hips towards me in a silent plea for more.

  I spanked her ass, this time, hard enough for her to draw a swift breath. “Be patient, kitten,” I chided. “The night is still young.” That was a lie. It was pretty late, but I was in no hurry. Neither of us were going into work tomorrow, and for the moment, my only focus was to intensify her pleasure, building it up slowly and carefully so that when I finally allowed her to climax, it would be the sweetest of releases.

  I moved the wheel to her other side, and repeated the movements. She tried to keep still and take deep breaths, but didn’t succeed, squirming and moaning softly instead. My hand followed the wheel’s path, trailing a fingernail in the same path as that taken by the wheel, and this caused her to hiss with pleasure, and groan a strained please.

  “Don’t move,” I said, running the wheel up and down her inner thighs. She turned her head to look at me, the strain showing in her eyes, but she just nodded silently. “Yes, Dr. Anderson,” she whispered. “I’ll try.”

  I couldn’t help myself, I bent down and kissed her back softly. “You are being very good,” I said to her, and she smiled her pleasure at my words.

  After a few minutes of the wheel, her skin was sensitized, and she was moaning near constantly. Time to move on to the next stage. I didn’t have much of a plan for tonight’s session, but I did like to ad-lib. Right now, I just wanted to sink my face into that beautiful pussy, and slurp up her juices.

  I smacked her right leg. “Move your leg up on the foot of the bed,” I ordered, and she complied, trying to balance on one foot, steadying herself by pressing down on the mattress.

  “I won’t let you fall, kitten,” I reassured her.

  “I know you won’t, Dr. Anderson,” she replied instantly, her voice sweet and trusting, and I gulped, almost overwhelmed by the complete confidence with which she’d spoken. Stay in role, jackass, I told myself sternly. Keep control.

  The thing that people didn’t often get about Dominance was how hard it was to keep control when you had a sweet, beautiful submissive writhing in pleasure at the things you were doing to her. How nearly impossible it was to ignore your desire to just fuck her, and to delay the gratification in order to heighten the eventual release. And when you added in the fact that this was Lisa, who was not only a sweet, beautiful submissive, but also the smart, capable woman that I very much loved? Well, someone should have been awarding me some kind of medal.

  I rummaged through her shoebox of toys, and found a pair of nipple clamps. Left to her own devices, Lisa preferred the tweezers-style of clamp, something I silently noted for later shopping purposes.
Along with a leash. Holy fucking shit. This woman blew my mind.

  “Straighten for an instant, sweetie,” I ordered, and she obeyed, resting her raised leg back on the floor with a sigh of relief. “Tell me when you need to shift positions, okay?” I asked her, and she nodded.

  “I will, don’t worry,” she said, with a light trace of impatience. She winced the moment she realized I’d noticed her impatience.

  “More punishment,” I said, mock-sympathetically. “You do need to learn to keep the sass under control, sweetie.” I was lying; I loved the sass. I loved that she had a mind of her own, and wasn’t afraid to ever express herself. And I loved punishing her.

  I quickly fastened the nipple clamps on her, tightening them until she inhaled sharply in pain, and then loosening them slightly back from that point. I didn’t want her hurting. I wanted her at the edge between pain and pleasure.

  “Okay, let’s get the punishment out of the way,” I said, grabbing the flogger. “I want you to lie on your back, and spread your legs wide open for me. As wide as you can, Lisa. Grab your ankles and hold yourself in position.”

  She gulped visibly, knowing exactly where the flogger was going to fall. On that sweet, glistening pussy. Yet her eyes were hazy with arousal, and she didn’t hesitate to part her legs, not even for an instant.

  “Let’s do five again, shall we?” I asked her, as I flicked the flogger down right between her legs.

  She yelped. Her legs started to close automatically, but she caught herself and spread them open for me again. I flicked my wrist two quick times, and the flogger raked down her skin.

  Her legs shook with the effort of holding them in place. She was holding her breath, waiting for the next one, but I shook my head. “Breathe,” I told her, and she exhaled, then took a deep inward breath and exhaled once more.

  “Better?” I asked. You had to let the pain flow through you. Tensing your muscles was the worst thing you could do.