by Lund, S. E.
“I can tell by watching her with you that you make her feel uncomfortable. You might want to dial the attempt at seduction back just a bit.”
I raised my eyebrows for emphasis, but Dave only frowned. He watched out the window as we drove to his apartment.
“Well, no loss,” he said finally and shrugged. “Women are like buses. If you miss one, there’ll be another along in a few minutes.”
“Not like Katherine,” I said to myself more than to him.
He turned to me and made a face. “You like her?”
I said nothing, trying hard not to smile or respond.
“Drake Morgan, the great Doctor, likes the Hangin’ Judge’s daughter?” He laughed at that and shook his head. “Well, I’ll be damned. OK,” he said and smiled, punching my shoulder playfully. “I’ll back off if that’s the case.”
“It’s not that,” I said, not willing to admit to anything. “It’s just that I’m very fond of Ethan and he’s very protective of Katherine. She’s not a trifle.”
“A trifle?” Dave laughed at that and peered at me as if I’d lost my mind. “What are you? A throwback to the Edwardian era?”
He chuckled to himself and watched out the window as we pulled up to his apartment.
“Drake Morgan, you surprise me,” he said as he left the car. He stood with the door open, leaning in so he could talk to me. “I thought you stuck with nurses or physicians. She’s kinda out of your league, isn’t she?”
“She’s very smart,” I said. “She writes very well.”
“She has a hot little body,” Dave said and wagged his eyebrow in the most annoying manner. “Admit it.”
“You know, I am your boss,” I said to him, trying to look stern.
He broke out laughing at that. “What? Are you going to fire me because I made a pass at her? Good God, Drake, you’re smitten.”
I frowned at him, but then I realized I was being a bit of a prude. I took in a deep breath for a moment and then I finally smiled at him. “She does have a very hot little body. Now, get the hell out of here and leave her alone or else it’ll be sabers at dawn,” I said, laughing at his expression.
“Later, boss,” Dave said. I waved him away, knowing that we were too good of friends for this to come between us.
I left him standing on the sidewalk and drove to my apartment in Chelsea, but something he said kept echoing in my mind.
Good God, Drake, you’re smitten…
I wanted her. I felt it in my gut, in my groin. Adrenaline washed through me when I thought of her being under my control. I’d have to go very carefully with her. I’d take it really slow, be really gentlemanly, respectful. She reminded me of a timid doe, and I’d have to move slowly and quietly or else I’d scare her off. To tame her to hand would take quite a lot of finesse.
I could do it. The two candidates Lara had for me as potential submissives were novices as well, but they had entered the lifestyle looking for a Dom. Neither were nearly as enticing as Katherine, despite her not being in the lifestyle. She might be a natural sexual submissive, based on her behavior and how shy she was. She might need someone more dominant to unleash her desire.
At that moment, I decided to pursue her and see how far I could get. If she was the least bit submissive, I intended to be the one to slowly and very carefully introduce her to the lifestyle.
Good God, Drake, you’re smitten…
I had only just met the lovely Ms. Bennet, but he was right.
I was.
CHAPTER SEVEN
On Saturday night, Lara and I went to the home of a friend, who had a well-equipped dungeon in his Brooklyn basement. It was a chance to meet the two potential submissives Lara found for me. Lara sent me their screen names at FetLife and I had done some preliminary research on them based on their profiles and their preferences, but in truth, neither one interested me very much – at least, not as much as Katherine.
I knew it was wrong to think of her, wrong to want her, but I couldn’t get her out of my mind. The image of her on the bed with her garters showing, her face flushed with embarrassment, her cleavage so inviting as she bent forward to cover up her gaping thighs, played in my mind.
I did everything humanly possible to shut out the image.
I spent time with my book of my previous submissives, sad now that Allie and I hadn’t been able to work things out. I remembered the photo shoots, getting off to their images, but Katherine was still there at the back of my mind. Thoughts of her intruded at the oddest times – when I was sitting in the hospital cafeteria surrounded by my fellow surgeons, talking cases and conferences. In line at the grocers. Lying in bed after a grueling workout intended to drive away every sexual thought and let me sleep.
Still, I had a need for sex and didn’t want to wait to see if Katherine was even interested, so I went to the dungeon with Lara in the hopes of finding one of the two submissives Lara had chosen acceptable. I wanted a temporary play partner for the interim.
I’d sent both submissives the links to my website with my letters so they’d get an idea of what I liked. They could also check out my profile at FetLife and see that I had been in the lifestyle for five years and had a number of submissives under my protection and under contract. In emails, I told them what to expect at the dungeon, and how they would be expected to dress and behave.
Fetish wear was necessary – at least one piece of clothing had to be leather, latex or rubber. Submissives were expected to be scantily dressed, wearing something that left little to the imagination if they wanted to attract attention. They would be expected to each play with me in public, do a short scene involving bondage or public sex. If they weren’t able to manage public sex, it would be in one of the private rooms in the house. I had no intense desire for public sex, but it was pretty much expected that each participant would take part, even if there was no sex involved.
Jenna, one of the two submissives, absolutely refused to have public sex but she did want to be tied up. Chessie was up for anything I wanted, seemingly in a bid to be chosen as my new submissive, but she seemed a little eager for my liking. I enjoyed the chase, teasing response out of a reluctant sub who was afraid of the power of her own desire. It seemed so much sweeter to evoke a response from someone who was holding back.
Like a victory.
I wanted to win them over, defeat their resistance, have them surrender completely. That turned me on.
We arrived at the house in Bay Ridge, a renovated historic property with a fully equipped dungeon in the basement. The owner and dungeon master was a lawyer, partner in a huge firm, and could indulge in his desire for every piece of kink equipment in the catalogue. His children were grown and living elsewhere so he could indulge his lifestyle without worry. The guests were all hand-picked, friends of his and trusted completely to be discreet about who attended. I could relax and not worry about my involvement in the lifestyle becoming public.
I'd attended the dungeon parties there before many times. In fact, Lara used to take me there when I was in training to be a Dom, and so I was familiar with the owner and his milieu.
The atmosphere upstairs in the large living room was relaxed with guests arriving and getting drinks and appetizers before going down the stairs to the basement dungeon. The participants were older, in their forties and fifties with the exception of Lara and me and a few subs who had been invited to learn more about the lifestyle. Lara was there to demonstrate her skills as a Domme, and I was there to test drive the two submissives she had chosen for me. There were a few singles there to participate in any scenes that were open, but most of the people were married and into BDSM as part of their sex life.
The dungeon itself was painted black and red, with red leather benches, a large St. Andrew’s Cross, several fuck machines of various design and bondage benches. Every kind of flogger and riding crop, spreader bars and restraints lined one wall, for participants to use at their leisure. There was a sex swing in one corner and someone was already inside it g
etting fucked very loudly when we arrived.
I watched the two subs with us to gauge their response to the scenes. I wouldn’t be their first Dominant, but I would be one of their first. They were very new to the scene and excited to be at a play party.
The bolder of the two, Chessie wanted to use the sex swing, while Jenna wanted to take part in a bondage scene, with me tying her up and demonstrating various safety issues and rope techniques. She stayed close to me, always a bit behind me, her nervousness obvious by her wide eyes and reluctance to move too far from my side. I petted her as she stood beside me, my hand on her bare back to encourage her to move closer to the scene taking place in the corner of the room so she could watch.
Lara met one of her favorite male subs, a young law clerk with blond hair and a six-pack impressive enough to make every man in the dungeon envious. She immediately became involved in a scene with him, tying him up, attaching his testicles to a cock and ball stockade. Then, she took a riding crop and began to run it over his ass and thighs in a prelude to a good cropping.
The image of her topping her submissive brought me back to my own time with her and the strange and challenging weeks when I submitted to her so I could learn the ropes of being a Dom.
Lara took me under her wing when I was at my lowest, in the weeks after Maureen and I split. I had taken a leave from NYP and was doing little else but spending time at the apartment, playing my guitar and occasionally, jamming with the band.
We ran into each other on the street near the café we used to go to as students, and when she saw me, she frowned and put an arm around me.
"What is wrong with you?" she said, squeezing my shoulder, her voice concerned. "You look like crap, and that's saying something. You're a mess. You haven't shaved, your hair is greasy, and your clothes…" She looked me up and down, shaking her head.
I told her what happened – how Maureen had accused me of being a psycho for wanting to try bondage, and how she had finally left, obtaining a temporary restraining order so I wouldn't contact her, filing assault charges because I'd tried to stop her from leaving that fateful night.
I had no surgeries booked due to the mess I was in.
"You're a Dom, Drake," Lara said, as if diagnosing me. "You want control during sex. You also have a bondage kink. You need to get your head on straight, learn the rules and get your life together."
I said nothing, certain she was right.
"What do I do?"
She smiled. "Let me teach you how. There are rules, there are skills, and there are techniques. You become my submissive and I'll teach you."
"I'm not submissive," I said, frowning. "I don't like pain."
"You need to understand what it means to have total control over someone else. You don’t just tie someone up and think everything's going to be OK. Let me show you how you introduce a new sub to BDSM. I'll explain everything and you can learn how."
At that point, I was looking for anything to move forward and so it was a no-brainer. I trusted her. She helped me find out who and what I really was. I have no doubt about it.
The first time we did a scene was at that very dungeon, in that actual room, and although we did nothing more than have sex in public, with me restrained, it was my initiation into the real world of kink. That first night, I was a reluctant sub, not really sure I wanted to be restrained or to have sex in front of complete strangers. But I turned myself over to Lara and let her lead me.
She made me wear a pair of pants made of exceptionally fine leather that molded to my body, showing every bulge and muscle. I was shirtless during our scene, barefoot. A leather-clad Lara wore a tight leather mini dress that pushed her ample breasts up into delicious mounds. She also wore thigh-high leather boots. Her long platinum blonde hair was pulled back into a smooth ponytail that reached the middle of her back.
She was beautiful in a cold, commanding way. She held a riding crop in one hand, which I eyed with suspicion, but she promised me it was just for show. She might run it over my body for sensory stimulation only. No pain would be involved unless I failed to comply, then the brief smack with it was only a reminder that I was to comply.
Our scene took place in the corner of the dungeon near some leather-covered benches, next to the sex swing. A few people watched as Lara restrained my wrists and pulled them behind my back. She eyed me up and down while I waited, my pulse racing, for what was to happen next.
"You know, when I found you again, I wished that you were a submissive, but you're not. However," she said and ran her riding crop over my shoulder and down my abs to my crotch. "You're going to have to let go of all your need for domination when you're with me. Do what I say or expect a smack with this."
"I'll try," I said.
"Try isn't good enough, Drake. Obey. It's simple."
"What if I don't like what you tell me to do?"
"You'll like it."
I took in a deep breath and tried to let go of my preference to take the lead in sex. She circled me as I stood there, waiting, and examined my body. While she did, she used her riding crop to trace my muscles, down my spine to my ass, up along the backs of my thighs to my butt, and then around my groin again, between them and up under my balls.
The leer in her eyes was starting to get to me. What would she do? What would she make me do?
I expected that I would service her in some way, but would I play stud and fuck her, or would I perform oral sex and make her orgasm?
My breath quickened when she ran her bare hands down my back, one finger trailing down my spine once more to the top of my leather pants. She stood behind me and as she was as tall as me with her boots on, she was able to kiss my neck from behind, her hands trailing around my waist to stroke my belly, tracing the line of hair from my navel down below the waistband of my leather pants, her fingers dipping below to my pubes without actually touching my dick.
When she bit the muscle on my shoulder gently, then licked the skin beneath my ear, I started to respond.
I didn’t mind this. She was deliberately trying to arouse me.
Her hands massaged me through my leather pants as she pressed her breasts against my back.
"You're so big, Drake," she whispered in my ear. "I used to fantasize about sitting on you and fucking myself with your Nice. Fat. Cock."
I grew thicker under her fingers, enjoying how the leather warmed and molded to my growing erection, the pleasant ache in my groin intensifying from the feel of her breath on my neck. I tilted my head back, my eyes closed, as she moved around to face me and sucked the skin on my throat.
Then, she tweaked a nipple, twisting it a bit and I grunted, frowning. "Hey," I said, stepping back. "You agreed, no pain."
"Damn," she said. "You really don’t respond to it, do you?"
I shook my head. "No."
"Oh, well," she said and sighed. "Pleasure it is, then."
Instead of twisting my nipple once more, she bent down and sucked it briefly, and the soft feel of her lips around it, the warm wetness of her tongue tugging on it, send a jolt of desire through my groin, straight to my dick, which was getting quite hard.
I closed my eyes as she sucked the other nipple, one of her hands trailing down my abs and cupping my balls through the leather.
"This isn’t very submissive, you pleasuring me," I said.
"Ut, tut, tut," she said and moved the riding crop over my lips. "Don't speak unless you're spoken to or I'll have to smack your pretty tight little ass, Drake. And when you do speak to me, address me as Mistress."
I nodded.
"Let me know you understand, Drake."
I closed my eyes. "Yes, Mistress," I said. "I understand."
For the next few moments, she did whatever she could to arouse me without actually taking my erection out and sucking me. She pulled down the straps to her leather dress and rubbed her bare breasts against my chest and back, the hard nubs of her nipples exciting me. She actually bit my butt cheeks through the leather of my pants, then lic
ked the material over my erection, looking up at me from her knees, smiling when I gasped.
I wanted her to take my aching cock out and suck it, but I knew she wouldn’t. She wanted me hard and aroused, so she could gain my compliance.
Then, she unbuttoned my pants and pulled out my cock, which sprung out, heavy and thick, the tip wet with precum.
"Oh, Drake, what a pretty cock you have," she said, eyeing it. "A pretty cock on a very pretty man. I've wanted to see it for years." She gripped me and moved her hand up, her fingers sliding over the head, making me groan out loud.
"You could suck it if you want," I said, forgetting myself for a moment.
"Bad boy," she said and flicked the tip of the crop against my lips, a soft tap just to remind me. "A sub never makes suggestions to his Domme. He always waits patiently for her command."
"Sorry," I said. "The Dom in me, I guess…"
"You're not a Dom yet, Drake. Just a wannabe. And address me properly."
"Yes, Mistress," I said, chastened.
"Watch, listen and learn. Once you’ve learned and tried everything, and once you've successfully topped a sub, then you'll be a Dom. If you get really good, really trustworthy, one day, you might be a Master."
"That's my goal," I said.
She nodded. "Good boy," she said and kissed me on the lips. It was our first kiss and it felt strange to be so intimate physically with her because we had always been only friends. I was a man, however, and had often admired her breasts and her ass, which was spectacular. Of course, she was beautiful, but despite a few errant fantasies of me overpowering her with my masculine charms, I had never really considered her as a sexual partner.
She was far too much like me for that. A female Dominant.
So our first kiss was strange. I felt completely out of my element, and the adrenaline that pumped through my veins was a potent mixture of desire and excitement.
When she pulled away, she had a hard expression in her eyes, and I knew then, my free pass was used up and I had to behave.