Free Relapse (Doctor Dom Volume 4) (A BDSM & Medical Play Novella) by Tara Crescent

“Here…”
    A butt plug was pushed into my ass, and then Patrick rolled a condom on, and swiftly entered me in one deep stroke. It felt amazing. My lips were swollen around him, and everything felt more intense. I could feel his hard erection raking through every millimeter of my pussy, and my clitoris throbbed, a pulsing mass of need.
    Patrick did something, and the butt plug started to vibrate deep inside my ass, and I whimpered as he increased the pace of his pounding, pulling out and slamming back into me with guttural groans that just spiked my arousal even higher.
    I could hear my voice, moaning and keening. My breasts were throbbing in rhythm with his strokes in and out of my pussy. My legs jerked, and my nipples ached, and I craved every bit of this. Every kiss of pain; every shudder of pleasure. It all blended into one intense, overwhelming ball of sensation, and when I came, I came convulsing, with a wail and a full-body shiver.
    “Patrick,” I whimpered as I tried to twist away from him, though I was tied up firmly to the examination table, but he was having none of it. Two hard, stinging slaps on my inner thighs, and I stopped moving, and his fingers resumed their work on my clitoris, as he kept up his steady pistoning in and out of me.
    Again, I arched into climax. Again, I tried to writhe away. Again, he would not permit me to.
    Finally, as I came, struggling and flailing the third time, he slammed into me, hard and fast and furious, and as I edged over into orgasm, the flutters of my pussy pushed him over the edge as well, and he groaned as his cock jerked inside of me. “Lisa,” he groaned, and warmth again blossomed in my heart, hearing the pleasure I brought him; the same pleasure he brought me.

Chapter 10
     
    Lisa:
    Patrick turned to me in bed. “So,” he said, lacing his fingers in mine. “Talk to me about the bathtub.”
    “Ah.” I was embarrassed. “Sorry, I didn’t mean to freak out.”
    “No, no. I’m just trying to understand. Tell me about the humiliation. I’ve done plenty that embarrasses you. What was it about that bit that made you nervous?”
    I thought about it. “I don’t know. I think it was mostly that I didn’t know what you were going to do. In the bathtub, ahead of an enema, that could be a lot of places I really don’t want to go.”
    “Like watching you expel the enema?” he probed. “I told you, I don’t have any interest in that. That’s just too extreme for me. But how do you feel about a certain amount of play that could embarrass you?”
    “What’s the difference between embarrassing me and humiliating me?” I asked.
    “That’s a matter of perspective,” he replied thoughtfully. “From my standpoint, keeping you slightly at edge is desirable. But my intention isn’t to make you feel any less valued or cherished.”
    I really liked having this discussion with Patrick after we were done. In session, there could be potential for hurt. Now, curled up next to him, discussing what worked for me and what didn’t – I felt like we both had the same goal – to ensure that we had the most amazing sex. It felt collaborative. With Nick, any discussion had always felt adversarial. Like a difficult negotiation, not a calm conversation.
    “You made me lick my juice off the examination room stool once,” I mused. “That was really hot.”
    Patrick smirked at me, before composing his expression into seriousness. “Why was it hot and not humiliating?”
    “It was hot because you were so turned-on by it, I guess? And your arousal acted as a catalyst for mine?”
    “I’m going to try something when we play next,” he said. “I’m going to rely on you to tell me if it crosses a line.”
    I nodded , ignoring the little prickle of guilt. Every time he said something that implied he trusted me, I felt guilty. Yet again, I pushed the guilt aside, and replied to his comment. “Yes, Dr. Anderson,” I said. “This play session, is there a date I need to block