Drake Restrained(3)

Tonight's appointment wasn’t our usual scene where I tied her up, blindfolded her and tortured her with pleasure. MR meant ‘mock rape’.

Mock rape wasn’t my personal preference. I didn’t respond to a woman’s fear or inflicting pain – quite the opposite. I responded to a woman’s trust to let me tie her up and blindfold her. I responded to her cries of pleasure. I chose my submissives carefully to ensure that they didn’t have inclinations for pain or humiliation. Although Allie and I had been together for eight months and I thought I knew her desires inside and out, I'd been wrong.

I thought we had explored every kink we both had, so when she asked me to fulfill her secret fantasy after months of silence about it, I agreed because we were otherwise very compatible. Once every week or two, as a treat for being especially obedient the rest of our time together, I’d sneak into her apartment at a random time, chase her around, force her onto the bed, tie her up while talking dirty to her, and pretend to rape her. When I did, her orgasm would be explosive and that always made my own so much better.

Before the light changed, I saw a text from Ken, my band mate and the best man at my wedding. He’d arranged an extra gig at O’Riley’s, his family's Irish Pub, for later that night, before our Friday gig at The Front. We had added some new songs to the usual sets we played. Playing at O’Riley’s would give us the extra practice.

I considered – it would mean either canceling my appointment with Allie or seeing her earlier than 10:00, and I knew she’d be disappointed if I did. Still, my band came first and so I would have to postpone to another night or come by at 9:00 for a short scene. I texted her to let her know.



Change in plans. Have another last-minute appointment at 10:00 and have only an hour. Will be by at 9:00 for a brief B&D session. Be ready.



Next, I texted Ken that I’d be at O’Riley’s, 10:00 PM sharp. Enough time to get home, eat a light meal, take a shower, and head off to Allie’s place for a quick scene. Mock rape was off the agenda for the night. I knew Allie would be disappointed, but events were out of my control.



At 8:30, I received a text from Allie as I was finishing a bowl of leftover pasta and tomato sauce I warmed up in the microwave.



I’m at a restaurant with my friends. Can we make it 9:30 instead of 9:00?I wasn't expecting you until after 10:00…



I noted with some irritation that she didn’t use the proper form of address. According to our contract, she was to refer to me as Sir at all times.

I considered my options. If I didn’t go until 9:30, I would have barely any time before heading out to O’Riley’s.



No time for anything but vanilla, then. I want to find you kneeling by the front door, in your hose and garters, in proper position. Quick and dirty against the wall.



She wasn’t pleased.



What’s the rush? You know what I wanted…



I did know what she wanted. But I couldn’t do a proper MR scene in less than half an hour. They always required greater aftercare and that took time to do properly.



Allie, do I have to remind you about the terms of our contract? I have to come by early, or not at all.



I waited for her response, but it didn’t come for a few moments.



All right, Sir. I’ll be waiting.



I texted right back.



In proper position.



She replied.



In proper position, Sir.



I exhaled, glad that she’d submitted despite her disappointment. I didn't need the trouble.



Good girl. See you then. Be ready for me.



I finished my pasta, had a quick shower, and dressed in jeans and a white linen button-down shirt. I stowed both my guitars in the back of my Mercedes GL450 SUV before driving to her apartment.

I had a bad feeling about the night as I drove away. There was nothing I could do but face it.





CHAPTER TWO





When I arrived at her tiny apartment in an old brownstone in the Upper East Side, she wasn't in proper position, on her knees by the entrance. Instead, she was in the kitchen pouring herself a shot of vodka, and talking on her cell. She was wearing street clothes – a black skirt and white blouse instead of her heels, garter belt and hose.

She looked every inch the law clerk with her platinum blonde hair pulled back in a bun and wearing a pair of black horn rimmed glasses. In fact, she looked very much like Lara and I wondered if that wasn't why Lara chose her for me.

Allie wasn't ready for me.

I stopped in the hallway of the dingy little apartment with its dark parquet floors and tiny window letting in barely any ambient light. After putting my key to her apartment into my pocket, I shucked off my shoes and jacket. Then, I entered the cramped living room.