The Drake Restrained Compete Collection: Part 1 - 4 (The Drake Series Book 7)

by Lund, S. E.

  "What if I don't want to?"

  "You gave control over your body to me. I want you to. I thought you understood that."

  She sighed and closed her eyes, turning her head to the side.

  I crawled up until I was directly over her, took her chin in my hand, and held her eyes with mine.

  "What is it, Kate? Why are you resisting this?" I shook my head, surprised that she’d resist. "It's not like another orgasm is a bad thing."

  She shook her head in return but said nothing.

  "Slave," I said, my voice firm, "are you mine?"

  She inhaled deeply. "Yes," she said, finally yielding. "Master…"

  In the end, it turned out that Kate could come more than three times. In all, five. I made her come five times without stopping, using my fingers, tongue, and my once-more erect cock, to prove a point and reinforce that she wasn't to resist me, no matter what, unless what was happening was a red-light matter. Coming five times was not one.

  By the time I was finished with her, she was almost incoherent, but lay with a satisfied smile on her face.

  "I'm going to be sore tomorrow,'" she said, closing her eyes as I untied her hands.

  "Good," I said and rubbed her wrists where she'd pulled at the leather tie. Then I lifted her up into a seated position in my lap and began massaging her shoulders. "I want you sore. I want you to remember that you came five times. That I'm the one to set limits for your body, not you. You're far too timid and fearful to do so. You're too inexperienced. You don't know yet what you're capable of sexually, Kate. Let me be the one to discover how far you can go. That's what a D/s relationship is all about."

  "I'm so tired…" she said, her eyes closing. "I have to get home. I'll call a taxi…"

  "Shh," I said, cradling her in my arms. "You'll stay here tonight. You need to recover. Just lie with me."

  "If I'm not at home and—” she said, then hesitated. "And that person comes by, they may become suspicious."

  "Katherine," I said, my voice firm, "when you’re with me, I make the decisions. You're with me. I've decided you're staying the night."

  She exhaled and then gave in, relaxing into my arms. "It's your neck, not mine…"

  "It is." Then I laid her down on the bed and went to the bathroom, bringing back a warm washcloth that I used to wipe her off, starting at her face and then moving down over her body to her pussy, touching it gently to wipe away my come, the touch of the washcloth on her sensitive skin causing her to gasp just a bit.

  I smiled, enjoying the thought that she was well-used.

  "Does that please you?" she asked. "The thought I'm in pain?"

  I stopped what I was doing and frowned. "Is it truly pain? Or is it just discomfort from a very thorough and enjoyable fucking?" I waited for a moment, watching her. "Answer me, Katherine. Is it because you were well-fucked? Remember the rules…"

  She was silent for a moment. "Yes, Master," she said finally, a bit of resistance in her voice.

  "Yes, what?"

  "Yes, Master," she said, her eyes closing. "It's because I'm well-fucked."

  "Good girl," I said and kissed her.

  "Can I ask why you call me a girl? I'm really not, you know. I'm almost twenty-five," she said while I continued to clean her. She opened her eyes. "A quarter century."

  I considered while I provided her aftercare. The topic of how a Dom addressed his sub hadn’t come up yet in any detail and it varied from Dom to Dom. Some called them “slave” while others called them “Little One” or by their name. The purpose of the scene was for each to assume a role and exchange power. Dominants did what they could and thought was necessary to reinforce the roles of dominance and submission. The name you called your sub could help in that process.

  "I know you're a woman, Kate. You're an intelligent, passionate, caring woman. I respect you. I would never fuck a girl. The essence of a D/s relationship is power exchange between consenting adults. The submissive has to trust the Dominant enough to give over total control to him. In order for you to trust me, you have to feel that I truly am dominant in personality. That I can exert total control over you with confidence." I stopped my motions for a moment and turned to her to see her response.

  "You sound like a professor giving a lecture."

  "I am a professor."

  "Of surgery…"

  "Of surgery, but I could teach BDSM. I do give lectures sometimes. You wanted to understand, Kate. You have to feel submissive for this to work. If you don't, you won't yield control to me. I have to use every weapon in my arsenal to ensure you feel it because that mind of yours is just too intelligent, too busy. When I call you “girl,” that reinforces the difference between us. I'm thirty-seven, so I'm older than you. I'm more experienced. I'm more knowledgeable about sex. Most importantly, I'm able to control myself. Therefore, I'm able to control you. You can trust me to do so and you can just release yourself completely to feel whatever I decide you should feel."

  I resumed cleaning her off, thinking about the whole Dom/sub relationship.

  "Why are you doing this?" she said, curious. "I could clean myself off. Isn't this a servant's job? Shouldn't I be cleaning you off?"

  I paused and caught her eye. "Are you in any kind of condition to wash me?" I smiled briefly. "You turn yourself over to me completely, Kate. You allow me to restrain you, elicit intense emotions in you, to make you feel strong passions and sensations, to use your body as I want to use it. You're my responsibility. My complete responsibility when we're together. Your body needs to be cleaned and tended. Your mind needs to be calmed and comforted. Doing so is my responsibility as well. Submissives can be very delicate emotionally after an intense scene. They need to be cared for. It's called aftercare. I enjoy doing it."

  "So is our scene over now?” she asked, ever the student. “We're back to normal people?"

  I stroked the cloth over her thighs. "I'd prefer that when you're here, we stay in scene. Usually, I don’t have a sub stay overnight, but in this case, I don't think you should go home."

  "Why don't you let them stay? Potatoes and gravy mixing with meat a bit too closely?"

  I smiled at her metaphor, but kept my eyes focused on her body as I wiped her off. "Something like that."

  "So, technically, I should still refer to you as Master."

  I nodded. "I'll give you a bit of leeway since you're new." I threw the washcloth across the room into a laundry hamper and I knelt on the bed between her legs, my hands on my hips. "But next time, I expect perfect compliance with the terms of the contract or you'll get a spanking."

  "Promise?" she said, a wicked expression in her eyes.

  "Oh, you…" I laid on top of her, my face in her neck. "That's called topping from the bottom and deserves a spanking in and of itself. Or perhaps orgasm denial…"

  "Yes, please, no more orgasms tonight!" she said, giggling.

  I rose up above her, unable to hold back a smile. "Ms. Bennet, I can see you need a lesson in proper submissive behavior." I reached down between her thighs to touch her clit and she gasped, cringing away from me.

  "No, please, Drake, don't…"

  Then, to my surprise and shock, she bit her lip and turned her face away. I’d pushed too far with her. She was still too defiant, still too independent. She wasn’t ready yet to completely submit as her saucy retorts showed.

  "Shh," I said, rolling over and pulling her on top of me. I cupped her face in my hands, and wiped her tears away. "I won't. But don't tell me what to do and what not to do. Don't even tell me what you want unless I ask you. It's not your place, Kate," I said and then added, "Katherine.” I had to correct myself for I, too, had let myself slip.

  She nodded. "I'm sorry Master."

  I pulled her down so that her head rested on my shoulder, and stroked her back gently, one hand stroking her hair. We remained like that for some time.

  Soon, she dozed in my arms and both of us fell asleep.

  I woke sometime later, unaccustomed to having any
one in my bed when I was trying to sleep. In the five years since Maureen and I split, I had never once had a woman sleep over–not even with the few vanilla relationships I’d briefly had. I lay in bed and watched Kate, who slept facing me, one hand under her cheek. She looked so sweet and delicate–almost angelic–and at the same time, her lush body spoke of such pleasures. I had to stop myself from getting all emotional about having her there with me, in my bed. I felt a bit apprehensive about it, but at the same time, I didn’t want her to go.

  The night had been successful. I’d pleased her, her pleasure satisfied me, and we made a start at establishing a D/s relationship. I still had a lot of work ahead of me if I was to ever introduce anything more intense with her. These thoughts went through my mind as I lay awake. From long experience, I knew that if I was ever going to fall back to sleep, I’d have to get up and do something for at least half an hour so I went to the living room and picked up a guitar, plugged it into my amp and put on some headphones. I didn’t want to wake Kate up. No need for both of us to be sleepless. I began to play the sheet music Kate had found earlier, a touch of sadness in me at the thought that my father was dead and that the hopes the two old friends had of growing old together would not come to be.

  It was while I was playing that I felt Kate’s hands rest on my shoulders. I stopped playing immediately and removed my headphones.

  "You woke up."

  She nodded, her arms wrapped around herself, naked and lovely standing there in front of me, the light coming in from the window highlighting the gold in her hair.

  "You are a vision of loveliness in the moonlight."

  She smiled, and although I expected her to cover herself, she didn’t, and that pleased me. I wanted her to have no inhibitions with me. I wanted her to be completely relaxed with me.

  "You couldn't sleep?" she said softly.

  I shook my head and strummed the guitar, the sound faint because the headphones were still plugged in. "I woke up and my mind wouldn't stop. Sometimes playing helps."

  "You still won't play for me?"

  I exhaled heavily, not wanting to play for her, my reluctance to involve her too deeply in my life fighting with my desire to have her all to myself.

  "No, it's okay," she said, but her voice betrayed her. It sounded hurt. "I understand. Potatoes and meat…"

  Then I thought, what the fuck… This woman has just allowed me to tie her up and take complete control over her. I unplugged the headphones and started to play, and then I sang the lyrics, trying my best to shut off thoughts of what this meant for me and Kate.

  The lyrics spoke of two old men sitting on a park bench like bookends, and I imagined my father and Ethan sitting in Central Park doing just that. It made my throat choke up a bit, but at the same time, I felt something deep inside my chest. I was with the daughter of my father’s best friend. I was sure that if my father had ever met her, he would have loved her. Beautiful, smart, leaning to the left… My father would be a total sucker for her.

  I finished and finally looked at Kate, wondering what she thought. Then, to my surprise, she took my face in her hands. She kissed me, her eyes wet.

  "Thank you."

  She left me sitting there as if she was too filled with emotion to stay. I put down my guitar, knowing better than to leave her alone at a moment like this. I went to the bathroom and saw her standing by the skink, a wet washcloth at her eyes. She was such an emotional person. That emotion was an amazing thing to me, for I knew I could control it and harness it to make our relationship all the more intense, but at the same time, I felt conflicted. Could what I gave her be enough for someone like Kate?

  "Come back to bed," I said, my voice soft.

  "Just give me a minute." Her voice was shaky with emotion, so I went behind her and slipped my arms around her, pulling her against my body. I said nothing, just rested my chin on the top of her head for a moment. Finally, I leaned down and kissed her shoulder before turning her around and embracing her.

  "Sweet, sweet Kate…" I tilted her head up and looked in her eyes, wiping moisture from her cheek. "Why the tears?"

  She shook her head, breathing in as if trying to get her emotions under control. "It's so beautiful and so sad,” she said. “They were old friends with so much history. My father…" She swallowed back emotion. "I can't imagine losing my father."

  I nodded. At one point in my life, I couldn’t imagine it either, but then he was gone, his life snuffed out in a moment and I would never see him again.

  I brushed her hair off her cheek, then led her back to the bedroom and pulled back the blanket, pointing to the bed. She crawled in and I followed her, spooning against her from behind, my arm around her waist.

  "Close your eyes."

  She snuggled down beside me, but I heard her breathing and knew she stayed awake for quite a while. Like me, she was probably thinking of two old men sitting on a bench in Central Park.

  CHAPTER FOUR

  Kate left the next morning, insisting on taking a taxi and not letting me drive her to her apartment, her fear of this anonymous person hanging over her head.

  I went to work, invigorated after our night together and morning pleasure. I would have liked to spend the day with Kate, but I had work to do and so I threw myself into my cases, shutting off everything but the work at hand. Knowing that Kate was mine now, that she’d signed the contract and that she wanted to explore D/s with me, removed any doubt about our relationship from my mind.

  I was happy–actually happy—for the first time in a while, the sense that all was right with the world unfamiliar to me.

  8th Avenue was our place and I would check my watch all day when it was our night together, excited to be meeting her there. Although I usually liked to be the one to arrive at my sub’s apartment, with her waiting in proper submissive position—on her knees by her bed, naked, her eyes downcast, her hands behind her back—it didn’t work out that way with Kate.

  Instead, she would be the one to arrive after me for invariably, no matter how I tried to arrive later, I was perpetually early. It would be me who was waiting with bated breath, unable to hide my excitement when she walked up the stairs and through the door. Everything was backward from my usual routine with a sub. Indeed, there was no real routine anymore, and while I occasionally felt that it wasn’t a good thing, I pushed that out of my mind and tried to enjoy what I had with her.

  I had Kate all to myself. Willing, excited, open to me.

  She’d text me when she arrived outside my building and then I’d stand at the door and listen to her feet on the creaky old stairs, two shots of Anisovaya in Yelena Kuznetsova's crystal glasses. We’d drink a toast to each other before falling into our respective roles. I’d take the glass from Kate's hand and place them both on the sideboard. I’d wrap my arms around her for a moment, giving her time to fall into sub mode with me, and I would transition into Dom mode. We’d experiment. I’d tie her up in different positions so she’d get used to the different kinds of bindings, ropes and spreader bars.

  Everything was going along smoothly until the week that her period was due and she tried to avoid me. I stood at the doorway on a Sunday morning before she left, examining a wall calendar.

  "I'm free Monday, Tuesday, Thursday, and Saturday this week," I said, because I had practice on Wednesday and a gig on Friday. "I hope you can make all four nights."

  She shook her head and stood beside me, examining the calendar. "I'm due on Tuesday," she said, touching the date. "It will last until Friday. I can't make Saturday night because this person doesn't work that night. I guess we have to take a week's break."

  No way. I was not going to take a week off from her. I shook my head. "I don't like that, Kate," I said, frowning. "Just because you have your period doesn't mean you can't come to me."

  "I don't think so," she said, holding her hands up, stepping away from me. "I have bad cramps and on the day before and on the first day I'm what my father calls a hellcat."

  "No
, I still want you here. You said you had every Tuesday and Thursday for sure and one day on the weekend that you'd always be free, so I want you here then if I can't have you on Saturday. Monday as well. I have many techniques guaranteed to tame beasts, hellcats included."

  "Drake…"

  "Katherine," I said and pulled her against me. "You forget that I was married for five years to a woman who had periods. I'm also a doctor, in case you also forgot that fact. I even did an OB/GYN rotation and delivered babies, did C-sections, cut out uteruses. Why, I even had my whole hand and part of my arm inside a woman delivering a breech twin…"

  She grimaced at that. "There's no reason to be together if we can't do things," she said, trying to wrestle free from me, but I held her tight, nibbling her neck playfully.

  "What do you mean, we can't do things?” I said in mock affront. “We can always do things. Besides, a good orgasm will help your PMS and cramps."

  "I could never," she said, making a face. "I'm way too uncomfortable. I can't imagine it."

  "You can and you will," I said. "Submission, Katherine. It's what I want. I don’t want to be away from you for so long."

  "But it's disgusting! Haven't you heard about masturbation?"

  "Why should I masturbate when I can have you? You are such a good Catholic girl despite being a socialist…" I reached down to her waist and tickled her.

  "I'm not a socialist!" she said, laughing and squirming in my arms. "I'm not a good Catholic girl either. If I was, I’d still be a virgin and wouldn't let you tie me up and fuck me."

  "And I'm so glad you're a bad Catholic girl, Kate,” I said and laughed out loud. “If you weren't, I'd die of blue balls."

  I chased her around the apartment, and she almost fell on one of the small carpets that slipped beneath her feet when I cornered her. I caught her from behind and held her firmly.

  "Now, no more arguments about it. I want you here on Tuesday and Thursday,” I said, my voice firm, not to be deterred by her petty excuses. “I won't fuck you if you really don't want me to, if it really upsets you that much, but I will make you come and you will make me come. No more arguments."