Drake Restrained: A Novella in the Unrestrained Series (The Drake Restrained Series)

by Lund, S. E.

  If I decided to punish her immediately for disobedience, I'd have to sit on the couch and demand that she present herself to me so I could spank her over my knee. I could then fuck her on the couch. She'd come very quickly if so, because she was always worked up after a spanking. She’d need a lot of aftercare, and would be fragile after my punishment, so I might be pushing the window in terms of time to do it all properly. I would be late for the gig.

  If I decided to chase her and force her the way she wanted, I'd probably have enough time, but it would mean that I would be giving in to her instead of the other way around.

  She whispered something into her phone and put it on the island. She removed her glasses, her eyes on me, waiting. In an instant, I decided.

  I started towards her, my brow furrowed. Usually in a mock rape scene, I had to be a good actor, putting on an angry demeanor to keep in the role. Tonight, I really was angry and had to exert even more control over myself so the scene didn’t become real. She anticipated my response, running to the back of the apartment before I was able to get to her. She made a half-hearted attempt to close the door to her bedroom, but I was faster and managed to wedge my knee in between the door and the jamb.

  She squealed a bit in fear, although this was exactly what she wanted.

  I didn't say anything. Instead, I used my greater body weight and strength to push the door open, careful all the same not to hurt her. She ran to the other side of her queen-sized bed, effectively trapping herself in the corner. I went to her, now totally calm, unfastening my belt, and then the buttons on my jeans.

  She glanced hungrily at my groin, hoping to see an erection, but I wasn't hard – yet. By the time I reached her, she stood against the wall in the corner, her back to me, breathing fast. I placed my hands on either side of her on the wall, trapping her with my body. I leaned in, my mouth next to her ear. I was breathing fast as well, but part of my arousal was due to anger rather than lust. She was pushing things farther than I wanted to take them.

  "What the fuck do you think you're doing, trying to escape me?" I said, my voice low, my body pressed against hers.

  "Please," she whispered, her voice breathy with desire. "Please don’t hurt me…"

  "Don’t hurt you?" I growled. "You're lucky I don’t take off my belt and smack that pretty little ass of yours."

  Except, I was beginning to suspect that's what she really wanted. I wouldn't give in because that was topping from the bottom.

  Instead, I turned her to face me.

  "You were very bad," I said and grabbed her hair, twisting it in my hand so that her head tipped back. "I have to punish you."

  I kissed her harshly, my mouth claiming hers, tongue finding hers, sucking it. With my other hand, I grabbed a breast and squeezed. She moaned into my mouth, her eyes pressed shut.

  That aroused me. It wasn't merely the soft swell of her breast in my hand. It was the sound of her desire that finally ignited mine.

  I pulled away and turned her back so that she faced the wall, my hips pressed against her butt, one hand slipping around her body to rip open her blouse, grab her breast beneath the fabric of her bra, squeezing it, tweaking her nipple hard between my thumb and forefinger. She moaned at that, pushing her butt against me.

  I pressed my erection between the cheeks of her round ass, shutting off my mind so that I responded to her body, to her arousal, my hand slipping down her belly to her groin. I ran my hands over her thighs, then hiked up her skirt roughly, my fingers finding her thong. She was wet, her panties damp, her body ready for me.

  I wrenched it aside so I could slip my fingers between her shaven folds to find her hard clit, which I teased with long slow strokes. When she moaned once more, I grabbed her skirt, pulling it up to bare her ass. She leaned forward, her arms on the wall while I ripped one side of her thong, sliding the remaining fabric down her thighs so that she was completely exposed. I knocked her legs apart with a knee and removed my erection from my boxer briefs before sliding it between her legs and over her pussy from behind.

  She gasped as I stroked the tip over her clit again and again, pressing her body back to meet me. I knew she was aching to feel me inside of her, but I'd deny her for as long as I could.

  There was no need for a condom as we were exclusive and had both been tested. I used them only with new subs until I knew they were healthy. It was a risk, and as a physician, I understood the risk, but I preferred it that way. I loved the feel of a woman’s pussy around my dick.

  Nothing in the world felt as good, as exquisite, as mind-blowingly ecstatic as coming bareback inside a woman’s body.

  I gripped her hips and pulled her into position so that she fell forward, her forearms on the wall, her thighs spread wide.

  "Now I'm going to fuck you," I whispered in her ear, the tip of my erection teasing the entrance to her body. "But you're not going to come. Do you understand?"

  "Please…" she whispered, her voice a whimper of need. "Please, Sir, let me come. I need to come."

  "Why should you come, Allie? You deliberately disobeyed me."

  "I was late getting home, Sir." Her voice was still a bit petulant. She hadn't submitted emotionally yet. I could feel it, a small bit of defiance making her less pliant than she should have been.

  "No excuse," I said, knowing that we were at a crossroads. She would either start to obey in mind and body or she'd resist. If she complied immediately, I'd let her come. If she resisted, I’d punish her with orgasm denial.

  If she did resist, it was more proof there was something seriously wrong with our relationship and that I could no longer deny it. She wasn't satisfied with the arrangement we had and we either had to renegotiate our terms or end things.

  "You were talking on the phone when you could have been undressing and preparing yourself for me. Now, I'm going to be late."

  "Why do you have to go?" Allie whined, craning her head back to me. "You promised me Thursday nights…"

  I grabbed her hips and entered her with a single hard thrust. Despite her unwillingness to submit, I was still going to get an orgasm out of this mess so I began thrusting in earnest, focusing on my own pleasure, intent on coming as fast as I could with the least amount of effort to please her. I knew that she was pushing things as far as she could to get me to submit to her wishes when it should be the other way around.

  She was more like Lara than I realized…

  She was not going to top me from the bottom. I should have dragged her over to the bed and pushed her down over my knee, spanking her ass to drive home my disappointment in her disobedience, but I didn’t have time. Denying her an orgasm would have to be punishment enough.

  As if she finally understood, she said and did nothing while I thrust inside her. I didn’t attempt to pleasure her at all, my hands gripping her hips, my focus on my orgasm.

  I didn't enjoy straight fucking like that, usually preferring that I had completely spent my sub's need first, but I knew there would be no recovering from this – not tonight. Not without me being late for the gig. I didn’t want to be late, so I thrust intently until I came, white-hot pleasure exploding through me, but my orgasm was less than satisfactory. A hollow knot of disappointment in the pit of my stomach prevented me from truly enjoying myself.

  Allie was left unfulfilled, which was my intent, but it didn’t feel like much of a victory nor did I think the lesson would be effective. Instead, it felt like total failure.

  I had failed to acknowledge and deal with the signs that she wanted more from me than I wanted to give. I hadn't taken the time to sit with her and figure things out, get back on the right track and salvage the evening – and the relationship. When it came down to it, I was more intent on getting to O'Riley's on time than fixing things with Allie.

  That alone was a revelation.

  I pulled out of her body, pressing my hand against her back to stop her from moving, and sat on the bed across from her. I watched for a moment while I caught my breath. She stood with her t
highs spread wide, my semen dripping out of her pussy but even that didn’t satisfy me as it usually would.

  I exhaled heavily. "You can get up now."

  She stood up and pulled her skirt down as if embarrassed. Then she went to the ensuite bathroom and I heard the water running as she tried to clean up. I followed, providing her with some aftercare, thinking as I held her in my arms and stroked her cheek, that things had fallen too far apart to recover. Instead of being my submissive, obedient to my wishes, unquestioning about my orders and plans, she had instead tried to be my girlfriend.

  She wasn't.

  She couldn't be. I didn’t do girlfriends.

  Finally, I helped clean her thighs, wiping away my semen carefully with a wet cloth, no words being spoken between us. Once I was done, we stood side by side at the vanity. While I washed myself off, she watched me in the mirror. I could feel her gaze on me, and when our eyes met, she made a face of remorse, her brow creasing, the corners of her mouth turned down.

  "I'm sorry. I was a bad sub, wasn’t I?"

  "You were. I'm sorry, too," I said while I tucked myself in and buttoned my jeans. "I'm sorry you disobeyed me. Now, I have to run or I'll be late."

  "Where are you going in such a rush?"

  I splashed water on my face and then ran my hands through my hair. She had no right to know where I was going. That wasn’t part of our arrangement. When we signed our contract, we agreed not to poke our noses into each other’s personal lives. She wouldn’t try to learn more about me and my life outside of our sessions, and I would do the same.

  I felt bad that things had gone wrong that night – I should have just cancelled the session entirely, given the gig, but I was too focused on trying to fit everything in. It was my fault for being preoccupied.

  "My band's playing at O'Riley's at ten."

  I left the washroom and she followed me to the front entrance, where I slipped on my shoes.

  "Your band's more important than me?"

  "Allie…" I said, my voice low. I shook my head but said nothing more. She knew my private life was not her concern.

  "Don't be mad at me." She leaned on the wall, watching me as I slipped on my jacket. "I can't help it if I'm disappointed. I was looking forward to tonight."

  "I'm not mad," I said, but it was a lie. "I'm disappointed. You know the rules. You agreed to our terms. We're going to have a little talk on Saturday night about what happened and what to do about it."

  "I’ll come to O’Riley’s and we can talk after. I’ve never heard your band play.”

  I shook my head. “No, Allie. You know the rules.”

  She exhaled with barely-contained frustration. “Come back after your gig," she said. "We can talk then. I don't want to wait until Saturday."

  I shook my head. "I have early surgery tomorrow."

  "What about tomorrow night?"

  "We're playing at The Front."

  "Come by after. We can do a scene. I promise I'll be a perfect sub. We can talk then." She said nothing for a moment while I slipped on my jacket. "You could stay the night," she said softly. "You have no surgery on Saturday so it doesn't matter how late we are. We could have breakfast."

  I shook my head, exasperated with her but fighting my inclination to raise my voice.

  "Allie," I said, my eyes meeting hers, trying to hold her gaze but she avoided me. I took her chin in my hand. "Why are you doing this? I don’t sleep over. You know that. I don't do breakfast."

  She pulled away and stood at the door, her eyes not meeting mine. "I deserve more."

  There. She said it.

  I stopped and inhaled deeply. "If you feel that way, then you do." I cupped her face with my hand, stroked her cheek. She couldn’t avoid looking me in the eyes. "I can't give it to you. I'm sorry."

  Her eyes brimmed but then she forced a smile. "Forget it. Just forget I said it. Let's go back to normal."

  I hesitated, not sure if we could go back to 'normal' now that she admitted she wanted more.

  "We'll talk more on Saturday night." I opened the door and then I turned back. "Be ready for me. In proper position." I leaned in and kissed her on the lips then I stroked her cheek briefly.

  She forced another smile. "See you."

  I left without looking back, my mind already focused on getting to O'Riley's in time for our gig.

  Any endorphins from my recent orgasm quickly dissipated and I felt a sense of gloom that even the prospect of my band playing our new set couldn't dispel. I knew in my heart that Allie and I were probably over. Saturday night would be confirmation. I couldn't see my way to working things out with her. She'd be disappointed unless we moved the relationship beyond what I wanted and needed.

  That wasn’t going to happen.

  CHAPTER THREE

  While I drove to O’Riley’s, I thought about Allie.

  A law student Lara found for me when my previous submissive and I parted ways, Allie had initially ticked off all the boxes in my to-have list for submissives. Her body was fit from taking martial arts, she was attractive, and she was intelligent.

  I wanted a strong woman, mentally and emotionally, who happened to get turned on by power exchange in the bedroom. Women who were professional, who were intelligent, and who had their own mind but chose to turn it off during sex so they could go places they couldn’t on their own. Women with a kink for being tied up, helpless, and at my complete mercy for the hour or two we were together for mind-blowing sex.

  It meant things were a bit more complicated for I had to manage their will, which occasionally broke through, asserting itself.

  Like Allie’s was.

  When I first met her at the café where Lara and I went for coffee, Allie regarded me with a determination I found amusing. I knew she was the kind of submissive who had her own mind and will and strength, but wanted to give that up to me. Her bold gaze made me want to see her on her knees.

  Sure enough, when we were alone that first time, she became completely submissive, as if her perfectly put together persona was a façade and she couldn’t wait to turn over her power to me. I enjoyed our scenes for she loved being blindfolded, gagged and restrained while I made her come again and again.

  In the last couple of months, things had changed. Subtly at first. More episodes of deliberate disobedience when I would have to administer a spanking. Then, she confessed about her secret desire for mock rape.

  When I told Lara of the developments, Lara warned me that Allie might be hiding more secrets and that I should be prepared. I hoped we had been open and honest with each other about our needs and desires. Up until the mock rape request, things between us had been comfortable, predictable, and satisfying.

  So, despite how well we had done for the past eight months, her recent desire for mock rape and more punishment made me suspect that she was dissatisfied and that insurrection was brewing under the surface of her almost-perfect submissive posture. If so, we’d have to end the relationship. Although I’d grown fond of Allie, I didn’t love her and couldn’t commit to anything that involved pain or humiliation nor could we become emotionally involved. All I wanted was B&D sex three times a week – Tuesday, Thursday and Saturday.

  I had a regular practice session with my band on Wednesdays and usually a gig on Friday nights at one of several venues that featured 60s music. Saturday afternoons I spent going over business at the Foundation my father started in order to donate equipment to hospitals in the developing world. I took Sunday off most weeks to decompress, and either went to my club to play racquetball with one of the other regulars or stayed at home drinking coffee and reading the Saturday Times. I had no pets, and every plant my housekeeper had brought over to brighten up the apartment died due to lack of attention and water.

  Occasionally, I attended an event for Doctors Without Borders, and now and then, I met with my fellow surgeons at NYP for drinks and a meal, but otherwise my days and nights were taken up with surgery, music and sex.

  I had little room in my
life for anything or anyone else.

  My fellow surgeons joked about me being a bachelor and tried to hook me up with their single friends, nurses at NYP, and female physicians, but I was not in the market for a partner. There were times I felt a sense that time was passing far too quickly. Despite the fact that I was at the top of my game as a new neurosurgeon, that my body was fit and my reflexes and coordination sharp, my life was missing something. I was running too fast from one part of my life to the next. Other than the occasional bout of excess when I drank a bit too much vodka, I didn’t confront whatever it was that dogged my otherwise perfect life.

  Now, things seemed like they were winding down between Allie and me and I felt a darkness in the back of my mind like a storm cloud on the distant horizon.

  I arrived at the pub with a few moments to spare. Once parked at the rear of the building, I removed my guitars from the back of the car, and entered through the alley, past the kitchen where cooks were busy cleaning up after dinner service. I took a dim corridor to the office where Margaret O'Riley, the O'Riley family matriarch, sat going over the evening's dinner receipts. A beautiful woman in her sixties with a greying bun and piercing blue eyes, she smiled when she saw me. I leaned in and kissed her on the cheek.

  "There you are," she said, examining me over her reading glasses. "Ken's already on stage setting up. Did you come right over from surgery? Have you eaten? Ask the cooks for something if you want.”

  "I ate something," I said and gave her a smile. "Thanks anyway, Mom."

  I took the hallway past the public washrooms to the bar and small stage on which we would play. Ken, Margaret's son, was the drummer in our band. The oldest of five children, he had his mothers blue eyes and his late father's bald head.

  Ken always dreamed of being a rock musician, but in all likelihood would inherit the pub from his mother and become an owner instead of a musician. But we planned on playing as long as venues would book us. Heck, we'd pretty much play for free if that was all we could find.