Raw Ch. 01

"Do you like it when I touch you, Becca?"

"Yes, Sir."

His hands froze, buried under the material still covering my shoulders. His mouth pressed against my neck, the tip of his tongue licking in circles. He squeezed my shoulders lightly and then slid the wide straps down my arms. The dress went slack and dropped to pool at my feet.

"Oh, Becca!" His gasp was drowned out by his own growl.

I grinned, wanting to wiggle my butt a little. But I refrained.

"Step forward."

He held my elbow steady as I stepped out of my dress. Then I felt his hands on the outsides of my thighs. They stroked down to the backs of my knees and then up again until they reached the top of my sheer stockings.

I shivered when he ran a finger all around the lace top on my right leg, skipping over the clips of my garter belt. He repeated the motion on my left leg. I have no idea how I was still standing. Especially when he slid a finger under one of the straps on both legs, stroking the backs of his fingers up and down my thighs.

"Do you know what you do to me, Becca?"

I swallowed. Hard. "No, Sir."

He pressed his chest to my back—it felt like he was wearing a shirt, but it was unbuttoned. One arm circled my waist, his palm flattening on my stomach. Then he grabbed my braid near the base of my skull and yanked back.

I cried out at the sharp, slightly painful feeling. When he jerked his hips forward, I cried again. His erection pressed against my butt through his pants and my panties. He was very hard. My pussy twitched. I wanted to come so badly.

He held my head back against him and nipped gently at my right shoulder. "That's what you do to me, Becca. That's what you have been doing ever since I realized you were Drake Alexander. Since you stepped off that elevator this morning."

I rolled my head to the side, moaning and trembling. Oh, what this man did to me with just his words. I could not imagine how my body would unravel beneath his expert touch as he uncovered treasures that even I did not know I possessed.

"Does that make you feel good, Becca?" His voice was a hot whisper in my ear.

"Yes, Sir." I wanted to touch him, to wrap my arms over his and grind my butt back against him. But I just stood there, my arms dangling at my sides. I knew what was required of me, what I was allowed to do. This may have been my first time being a submissive, but I was a quick study. And I had done lots of research over the years.

"Do you want to touch me?"

"Yes, Sir."

"Don't."

I whimpered as his hands moved up to cup my breasts through my black, satin bra.

"Look down, Becca."

I obeyed, although my head felt very heavy as I lifted it from his shoulder and turned my eyes to where I could see his hands.

He slowly slid them back and forth under my breasts, and then he pressed his thumbs against my nipples, which were painfully tight and straining through my bra.

My knees wobbled.

"Let go. I've got you."

"Yes, Sir." It came out all breathy, combined with a moan as he pinched my nipples through the material. When his thumb and finger twisted each one lightly, my legs gave out. I dropped a couple of inches until his arms caught me under my armpits. His erection dragged across my butt, stopping to press against my lower back.

"Now, when I tell you to, I want you to come. Do you think you can do that for me? Can you be my good little girl, Becca?

"Y-yes, Sir."

"COME NOW!"

I cried out, feeling the tremors deep within at the sound and tone of his voice. He pinched and pulled and squeezed as I rode out the orgasm. My head lolled to the side, pleasure and a tinge of pain taking my body captive.

"Good girl." His voice was soft, almost a whisper. He kissed the top of my head, and then I was up in his arms, leaning against his chest. He crossed the room to the bed where he pulled back the comforter and laid me down, my head on the pillows. He removed my heels and then bent over the nightstand.

I stared across the room in a daze. I had to blink several times, certain I wasn't seeing clearly. What was hanging on the inside of the cabinet doors? A feather duster? Whips? A flogger? Oh, I didn't know if I was ready for any of that.

The music changed to a new song, and I assumed the narrow black box on the top shelf was a stereo. The rest of the cabinet was filled with all kinds of dildos and vibrators and bottles of who-knows-what. I heard the grating of wood as he shut the nightstand drawer, and I turned my head back to see what he was doing.

"I want to heighten your desire, Becca." He slid a blindfold over my eyes, his fingers lingering on my cheeks. They stroked so lightly I wasn't sure he was actually touching me.

"Yes, Sir," I mumbled. I felt so tired, and yet I knew he wasn't nearly done with me. We had only just begun. I was glad I had eaten my lunch. I would need the energy.

"Good girl." His lips pressed against mine, and I moaned. He was gentle, his lips soft and warm.

I immediately lifted my arms to wrap around his neck, to hold him against me.

"No, Becca." He said it firmly. "Do not touch me. Not until I tell you to."

"Yes, Sir. Sorry, Sir."

I heard him walk away, something metal rattled, and then the weight shifted on the bed beside me.

"I want you to relax. I will not hurt you. Do you trust me, Becca?"

I took a deep breath and pushed the vision of the whips and other accoutrements out of my mind. "Yes, Sir."

"Say it."

"I trust you, Sir."

"Good girl." He took my right wrist in his, and I felt metal closing around it.

For just a moment, I clenched my hand. But then I relaxed my fingers. I could handle cuffs. I concentrated on breathing evenly when he raised my hand above my head, stretching it out at an angle. I heard the ratcheting sound of another cuff closing, probably around one of the slats in the headboard. When he let go of my hand, my arm lay comfortably against the pillows with a little slack.

The weight on the bed shifted again as he got up. The music drowned out his footsteps, but I assumed he was going to the other side of the bed. I was right. He didn't sit down this time as he picked up my left hand and secured one end of another set of handcuffs to my wrist. He stretched my arm in the other direction, securing it to the headboard as well, and then laid it against the pillows.

I could just imagine what he was thinking as he saw me, clad only in sexy lingerie, garter belt and hose, handcuffed to his bed. I shivered and wiggled a little.

"Be still, Becca."

I sucked in my breath, my body freezing.

"Are you keen on this bra?"

"Yes, Sir." I actually loved this bra and prayed he would not destroy it. I dared to speak again. "It hooks in the front."

"Ahh, very interesting. Thank you, Becca." His hand cupped my breast, squeezing gently. Then he slid his fingertip under the edge of the cup, running it back and forth against my skin along the swell of my breast.

I moaned softly and let my head roll to the side.

His finger dipped deeper, grazing over my nipple.

I gasped, my body flinching.

"Very nice." He moved his hands away, found the tiny clasp between the cups, and released it. As soon as my breasts were free, his hands covered them. They felt divine. And then his mouth was on my right one, sucking gently, alternately nipping at it and laving his tongue after he sent sharp jolts through my body.

The song changed once more, and I groaned. "Flowers Become Screens" was one of Enigma's more erotic songs. And another of my favorites.

My body responded to the mixture of Brian's touch and the music flowing around us. My heartbeat matched the base, my breathing becoming erratic. I tried not to move, but I couldn't prevent the moans and soft cries passing between my lips.

"That's it, Becca. Listen to your body. Let your mind go."

I gasped loudly when he released me. The bed shifted, and then his mouth was on my left breast. I didn't know how much more I could take, but I didn't want him to stop. The muscles in my pussy were twitching, and I could feel the heat rising from below all the way up through to the tips of my fingers.

He caressed my belly, gently rubbing circles into my skin. The part of my brain that was still functioning knew the song was almost over. Apparently he did, too. He kept torturing my breast, his pressure increasing with the woman's vocalizations until the final strains of the song rang out and he yelled, "COME NOW!"

I screamed as he bit down on my nipple. It felt like a dam had broken loose as my body shook. I had nothing to cling to except the air, and that made tears form in my eyes. I so wanted to hold onto something, someone. As I floated back to Earth, I realized Brian had disappeared from my side.

I cried out softly, my head rolling from side to side, wanting to see where he was except the blindfold prevented it.

"Shh, Becca. Everything's all right." His voice came from above me, and I automatically tilted my head up. His hand cupped my cheek, his thumb rough as it grazed over my smooth skin.

My breasts throbbed now with a dull pain. I half wondered if he'd marked them. I sucked in my breath when his hands moved down, brushing against my sides. I didn't think I could stand to have him touch my breasts again so soon.

He surprised me by tugging on my bra until it slid up my back and arms and lay above my head, stretched out between my elbows like another binding.

"I love the stockings. They can stay on. And the garter belt, too. But the panties really must go."

I licked my lips, knowing what would happen once that thin barrier was gone. I held my breath as his hands covered my hips before slipping beneath the waistband of my panties and slowly pulling them down. I lifted my hips, listening to hear his response. I was rewarded with a gasp and a groan as he unveiled my shaved pussy.

"Oh, Becca. Oh, wow."

The heat of his body covered my legs, and then I heard him inhale loudly.

"I want to lick that, but right now, I have other pressing matters."

There was a rustling of clothes. The bed shifted as he crawled up beside me. He pulled my panties down to just my ankles, pressing on the inside of my knees to part my legs. Then he moved between my legs, the width of his hips and the makeshift binding around my ankles preventing me from closing my legs or pulling them farther apart. He pushed my knees up until my feet were flat on the bed, opening me more. It also pulled him tighter against me as my bound feet hugged the back of his thighs. It was the most erotic position I had ever been in, and I only wished I could see his expression.

A desperate moan filled my ears—I wasn't sure if it was his or mine—before I registered what song was playing now. My fantasy was coming true, in all aspects. If only... I tugged on my wrist restraints, writhing under him, eager to spur him along.

"Be still, Becca. "

I obeyed but whimpered louder.

"Say 'blue' if you are in pain or want to stop."

I tossed my head from side to side, biting my lip.

"Is something wrong?"

"No, Sir." Oh, please, stop talking and just fuck me before the song ends.

"Good, then we will continue."

The tip of his cock rubbed against my clit now. I gasped, my hips arching toward him. He just pressed them back to the bed and repeated the motion. I bucked. He lowered me to the bed. We did this back-and-forth movement several more times before I felt him position his cock at my hot entrance.

He gripped my knees, and then he penetrated me in one long thrust. And I do mean long.

I screamed. He felt so good stretching me. Filling me. I feared he wouldn't be able to fit all of his cock inside me, but somehow he did.

He didn't give me a chance to accommodate him before he pulled out all of the way.

"Damn, Becca. You're so wet and hot." He grunted and jerked his hips forward again, bottoming out once more. "And tight. I like tight pussies."

I shuddered and sighed. I relaxed my legs around him as much as possible. The lyrics of the song filled my head as Brian found his rhythm. I had never felt so much pleasure in my life.

Eventually, he let go of my legs and repositioned himself so he could piston his cock at a faster pace.

"Don't hold back. I want you to come when your body tells you it's ready. Just feel."

I groaned. He was so thick and hard. My inner muscles clenched around him, trying to hold on as he moved out, dragging him back in on the forward strokes. My panting matched those of the woman in the song, and I arched my head back into the pillows. A cacophony of sensations ran rampant through every muscle and every vein. The concept of thinking ceased to exist.

Somehow, he lasted through the very long song despite how aroused he obviously was. Me? I came at least a half-dozen little times. I was praying he was saving the big one for the grand finale. He did not disappoint me. Little flickers of fire danced over my skin, as if I was suddenly alive. I came loudly, screaming his name and thrashing below him. I'm sure if I wasn't secured around him as I was with my legs, I would have bucked him off me.

As the song ended and switched to a calmer melody, Brian collapsed on top of me, his head between my breasts. He was breathing as hard as I was. He hugged his arms around my sides, and I was coherent enough to be jealous that he could touch me as we rested in our post-coital afterglow.

###

When I opened my eyes, I was curled up under the comforter, all restraints gone. The music was off, and Brian was not lying beside me. I tried to stretch and found my muscles were stiff. My head even hurt a little as I sat up. The comforter fell away, and I glanced around at the now-shadow filled room. How long had I been sleeping?

It took me a moment to realize Brian was sitting in the wingback chair, a glass of something in the palm of one hand as he watched me. There was enough light to see he was wearing an unbuttoned black shirt, the sleeves rolled up to his elbows and the sides hanging open to reveal a smattering of dark hair on his chest. His legs were clad in black jeans, his feet bare.

My hand twitched and reached for the comforter, but then I thought better of it. He'd already seen it all. Why become shy now?

"Hello, Sir."

"Hello, Becca." He nodded at me and then drank from his glass. "Did you sleep well?"

"Yes, Sir." I wasn't going to admit that I was sore. It was apparently still Saturday, and early enough that I hadn't slept the day away. I wanted to play some more.

"We'll take a shower later."

I raised an eyebrow. 'We'? I could go for that. I could feel his gaze drop to my chest, and my nipples hardened instantly. He smirked when I gasped. He took another slow sip of his drink before setting the glass aside and rising.

"I would like to try something with you first. Are you game?"

I watched him cross over to the two closed doors and place his hand on whatever was hidden by the red blanket. I gulped. It could be my best wet dream or my worst nightmare. But he had promised not to hurt me. "Yes, Sir."

He glanced back at me over his shoulder. "Good girl."

Whatever he had hidden, it was on wheels. He moved it easily to the end of the bed so that it was perpendicular between the footboard and the seating area. He pressed his foot on something, and I heard a loud click. Breaks?

"Get up and put your shoes back on."

I swung my legs out and stood up, but my legs were wobbly like a newborn deer. I grabbed the nightstand and the mattress until I caught my balance. I shook the cobwebs out of my head, found my shoes on the floor by the nightstand, and quickly slipped them on. I was wearing only my hose and the garter belt now. I felt damn sexy.

"Come here, Becca."

My heels were loud as they clicked on the hardwood floor. When I reached his side, Brian leaned in and kissed me softly on the lips. Then he turned me to face the contraption and slowly pulled the blanket away. I realized his hand was on my arm, and I was grateful for the support as my legs threatened to give out on me yet again.

Before me sat the oddest bench. It actually looked like a miniature version of a pommel horse, although there were no handles on top. The end closest to the bed had a cuff attached on either side. I now noticed small handles in front of the cuffs.

Brian led me forward until I stood with my hips pressing against the bench. "Lie down on your stomach, Becca."

For a moment, the word 'blue' was on my lips. But his promise echoed in my head, and I remembered that what we had done thus far had awakened my secret desires. I took a deep breath and bent forward, his hand still on my arm.

The bench was padded, the material covering it soft like suede. It was wide enough that my whole body could lie on it, although my breasts were squished beneath me. It was surprisingly comfortable.

I turned my head to rest my cheek on the padding, watching him as he placed my hands on the handles and secured my right wrist and then the other. It was very much like bending face-first over a table while having sex doggy-style. I'd done it several times before. Only difference this time, I was secured to said table.

"Are you okay, Becca?"

"Yes, Sir."

He studied me for a moment. I got a nice view of his waist and his bulging erection pressing against his jeans. I licked my lips, wondering when I'd get a chance to wrap my lips, tongue, and hands around that lovely specimen of masculinity. I was contemplating how much I could fit into my mouth when my front end suddenly dipped down. I cried out, gripping the handles harder.

"Still okay, Becca?"

I took a deep breath. "Yes, Sir. Just startled."

"You're doing great."

Now I was staring at the floor, very aware that my ass was sticking up in the air. I also realized why he wanted my shoes on. They gave me just enough height in the back that I could still stand on my feet while my body reclined forward, bent at the waist. It was not uncomfortable, just unusual.

Brian moved over to the armoire, pulled the key ring out of the lock, and squatted down. He unlocked the trunk and removed a long bar with cuffs at each end. Still squatting within my limited eyesight, he turned back to me. His mouth was tight, his eyes dark.

"This is a spreader bar. Are you familiar with any of the tools and toys used for Dom/sub relationships, Becca?"

I gulped, closed my eyes for a moment, and then said, "Yes, Sir."

"Good. The bench is something I created. I think you will enjoy it. Do you remember the safe word?"

"Yes, Sir."

He nodded and then stood, disappearing behind me. "Spread your legs."

I did as best as I could, and then I felt him secure the bar to my left ankle. I tried to breathe slower, to calm down. This was highly arousing—I could feel the dampness gathering in my pussy, and my muscles twitched—but I was nervous. Very nervous.

"This is adjustable." He tested the width, the cold metal bar pressing against the back of my right ankle. He moved my foot out a little more and then closed the cuff around it. "Is that too uncomfortable?"

"No, Sir."

"Tell me if it is, Becca. I don't want to hurt you."

"It's fine, Sir."

"Good."

I turned my head and saw him moving toward the nightstand on the far side of the bed. When he flipped on the light, I noticed it was a red bulb. Under the black shade, it emitted a glow that was reminiscent of a bordello, and yet it was kind of romantic. He disappeared behind me, I heard the click of the other lamp being turned on, and then the stereo came back to life. This time the artist was Delerium, another group similar to Enigma.

I held my breath as he moved behind me once again. I wasn't sure what to expect...was he going to spank me? Whip me? Fuck me? I did not expect him to do nothing. It took me a moment to realize he was sitting in his chair, watching me.