Primal Pt. 01

It seemed too...clean...for someone like her. Basic. In fact, I felt like I'd stepped onto the pages of a home decorating magazine. She seemed rougher around the edges. Grungy. Well, hell, to be blunt, she was a butch lesbian. This was more...feminine.

"I'm not your average person," Blake said behind me.

The snick of the door closing seemed loud. Especially after the music from downstairs. I started to turn toward her, but her hand on my shoulder stopped me.

"I am a minimalist." Her voice was sultry again when she said, "Except for where it counts."

I could sense her step closer. Knew that if I leaned back only slightly, my back would touch her chest. My eyes refused to stay open when her hand slid up my neck and into my hair, lightly combing through the tresses.

"You see, you're very much like me, Riley." Her fist tightened at the base of my skull but did not tug. The motion still made me sigh softly. She purred at that response. "You like sensations. Touch. Scents. Sounds. Tastes."

I gasped at the last word as she'd said it right against my ear in a deep, drawn-out hiss. Creating all kind of visions in my head. Dirty visions. And not of Honey and her honey this time. And when I felt the tip of her tongue flick at my earlobe? Shivers splintered out across my shoulders from the base of my skull like a lightning bolt striking the sky. I could definitely visualize that.

"The loss of a sense can heighten the others, as well. Take for instance, using a blindfold. Restricting sight. Not knowing what may happen. There's fear, yes, in the unknown. But also so much pleasure. I think you know that. I think that's what brought you into the club tonight. You were looking for the thrill of the unknown. Isn't that right, Riley?"

"Yes, Syr." The words flowed so easily from my lips now. No hesitation. Just a pure desire to be honest with her. Open.

My breath hitched when she jerked my head to the side and ran the tip of her nail up my revealed jugular vein from shoulder to earlobe.

"I'm going to bring you great pleasures." Her breath was hot against my neck, her voice digging deep into my psyche. "I'm going to give you an experience to remember. And your pleasure will be my own."

If she expected me to respond verbally, she was going to be sorely disappointed. I couldn't move. I didn't want to, anyway. To be in the snares of a predator? At her mercy? It was exactly where I wanted to be.

"You're such a good little minx." Her words--the sniff followed by a growl--gave me goosebumps. And then she released me.

I wobbled for a second and opened my eyes to see her standing before me now.

"There are few rules in my home except that once we start, you're mine until I say so, unless you end it. I'm no sadist, but I do enjoy a bit of torturing a willing pet. Are you open for some rough play?"

I licked my lips at the thought. Oh, did she understand me. "Yes, Syr."

Her lips were pursed in a straight line, but her gaze holding mine still had a glint of mischief. "Do you have any limits, Riley?"

A moment of clarity struck me, and I ticked off the items on my fingers. "No anal penetration of any kind. Outward play is fine and at your discretion. No canes, whips, or permanent marks. And no needles, blood, or watersports."

She had begun to pace in a tight circuit with her hands behind her back as I'd relayed my list of hard limits, occasionally nodding. She paused, glancing at me. "How about bondage? Ropes, chains, leather, cuffs, bars?"

"All fine, Syr. In fact, they're encouraged."

The pacing continued after she gave a quick nod. "Any areas to avoid or be careful of?"

"No, Syr."

"I use the stoplight method for safewords." She stopped in front of me again and dropped her eyes, slowly dragging them back up my body until they met mine again. Causing heat to radiate from my core. "Do you have any objections?"

I swallowed hard. "No, Syr."

"Any questions?"

"No, Syr." I felt like a broken record, but it was what she wanted. And I enjoyed every bit of it. Protocol. Negotiations. It had been months since I'd found someone who was so thorough before getting down to the good stuff. It was a lost art, I'd discovered. And missed.

She tilted her head and studied my face for a moment. When she reached out and rubbed a strand of hand between her fingers, the corner of her mouth twitched. "No, I didn't think you would."

We had a staring match for another few minutes. Neither of us speaking, barely blinking. She seemed so calm with no obvious changes in her breathing. Her eyes were hypnotizing, drawing me in. But they did little to calm me.

My tiger was pacing in my head...in my chest. Mimicking Blake's recent movements, indicative of her own beast inside--a grizzly bear, if I was to guess--biding its time, trying not to appear too anxious despite the contrary. Mine let out an occasional rumble or whimper to show her displeasure that she was still reined in. She wanted to play. To be chased. Dominated.

Blake seemed in no hurry to get to that point. In fact, the first words she spoke after such a long silence were, "Would you like me to make us some tea?"

I felt myself flinch. If she noticed, there was no outward sign.

For a split second, I considered turning her down. I wasn't thirsty--for that--and the prep work, if done properly, would take time. Her calculated mannerisms thus far made me certain she would want it done properly if she was offering. But this was all on her schedule. It had been from the moment I'd crossed the threshold into Maggie's downstairs. From the moment she spotted me and decided she--among all the other predators in the room tonight--was going to claim me. And by the look I'd seen in her eye ever since, she would fight them for me. That made my tiger preen.

It would be selfish of me to decline. Topping, in a sense, even though she'd asked me. Instead, I answered, "If it pleases you, Syr."

Her gray eyes brightened, widening a fraction. That corner of her mouth twitched again. She seemed to consider my response...what to do.

I mentally tried to get my tiger to settle down, telling her it would all be worth the wait. She missed Blake's touch. Wanted so much more. We'd been patient this long. A little more time wouldn't hurt anything. I prepared myself that refreshments would be served before I offered my services to Blake.

She surprised me by walking away from the kitchen. "Follow me."

The unlit hall led to four doors. One was slightly ajar. The edge of a sink and toilet were visible as we passed. A narrow door next to it must have been a linen closet. The door across from them both was closed. Our destination was the final door at the end. Where she paused.

"The point of no return, Riley." She gasped the handle but turned back toward me. "Any doubts?"

I straightened my back and lifted my chin, my tiger mirroring me. "No, Syr."

"Good." She pushed the door open, reached inside, and light bloomed from the doorway. When she beckoned me with an outstretched hand and I obeyed her silent request, she led me further into the room and closed the door.

I was taken aback. Not that I was thinking she had a full-fledged dungeon set up--or that I would have been disappointed if she had; I'd been in my fair share of clubs and basements and upper rooms in all manners of styles, some more elaborate than others. But I also wasn't expecting a room similar to the front rooms. White, natural wood, and minimalist décor.

The bed was flanked by two nightstands and two lamps. A solid rectangular, white leather bench sat at the foot. Opposite was a low dresser with a simple square mirror. Two easy chairs, a squat round table between them, and a pendant light above sat in the corner between the only window and another closed door; probably a closet. There was color this time, but just in the comforter. It was black with a shiny, subtle design and had matching shams and throw pillows.

Not a bit of anything kinky in sight, though. Or personal.

I suddenly wondered if she'd rented an Airbnb. Did she actually live here? I'd gone home with women many times before, sometimes to hotels. Only once had I felt threatened, and it wasn't by my counterpart but by a man loitering in the parking lot. There was no sense of foreboding here. But that didn't stop me from questioning if I had I made a mistake this time. A lack of color or mess or personal effects in one's home did not automatically equate a red flag. Still...

"This is my inner sanctuary," Blake said, sliding her hand across the back of my shoulders as she moved from my left to my right side. "I keep it void of anything that would distract me in here. This is a clean slate. A blank canvas. Ready for what art we create."

My inner turmoil started to settle, accepting her explanation as though I'd voiced my concerns aloud. Strange how she could read me so well.

"You're safe here," she continued, brushing my hair off my shoulder. "And you can leave whenever you like. Just say the word."

I shivered from her touch and convinced myself I would stay. I wanted to see this through. Needed to. There was something overly compelling about her. About being with her. A whimper escaped.

"Shh," she whispered at my ear. Then her fingertips grazed my forehead. "Great pleasure can be found in the mind. Visual distractions can prevent you from fully embracing those pleasures."

Blake was definitely an enigma. And the more I stared at the metal posters twisting their way to the ceiling from the four corners of the king-sized bed--at the solid metal rods connecting each post at the top, probably for draping material for privacy but also useful for more creative ideas--the stronger my feeling grew that I wouldn't be satisfied with just one night with her. I would need more time to unravel her. Question was, would she give it to me?

A gentle push on my shoulder broke me from my daze. We walked in tandem toward the side of the bed where she paused, still behind me.

"I know you," she continued, her fingers combing through my hair again. "We want the same things. We complete the Yin Yang, the two halves that find balance together."

My brain was hazy again, but compliant. Open to whatever she wanted to show me.

"Are you ready to begin, little minx?"

My tiger perked her head up. Flicked her tail. "Yes, Syr."

For the longest time, she was silent. But I wasn't. Those sounds she'd wanted to hear trickled out and then built up as her hands roamed.

She spent an inordinately amount of time caressing my hair. Tangling her fingers in it. Putting me into a semi-sleep state. The entrance to subspace. When her touch moved to my shoulders and the back of my neck, my head dropped forward.

I was swaying slightly when her hands slid down both of my arms to my elbows and stabilized me. Pulled me back against her so her chest pressed into my shoulder blades. The closest contact we'd had yet. That made me moan contentedly.

Her warm chuckle made me smile. "You've been wanting that, haven't you?"

It took longer to respond in this state, but I managed a slightly slurred, "Yes, Syr."

"And there's much more to come," she whispered. One hand brushed my hair out of my face when I lifted my head. Her fingers stroked my cheek and chin then over my exposed neck. Her palm settled there, her index finger and thumb cupping just under my jawline. "So much more."

Another whimper bubbled up at the thought of her choking me. And then she increased the pressure ever so slightly, holding my head to her shoulder. The heat of her body...the steady rise and fall of her chest...kept me relaxed when her fingers pressed together. Tightening her hold.

"Breathe through your nose, nice and slow." Her lips grazed my forehead. "That's a good girl."

I acknowledged that her other hand had crept up my arm and was now firmly holding my left breast through my top and bra. As her right hand relaxed, so did her left. Squeeze, release, a soft caress above and below, then repeat.

She held me like that until my legs swayed. Her lips pressed firmly to my temple before she said, "I think it's time to get you out of these clothes, little minx."

I mumbled in the affirmative, figuring she'd make quick work of that chore. I was wrong.

Her hands slid down my arms to gently pull my sleeves down over my fingers. Then in reverse to pull the hem up my back to my shoulders before lifting the material over my head and down my arms completely.

My head lolled against her shoulder. I sighed deeply then moaned at the scent of her cologne infiltrating my nose.

She didn't seem to mind. Her hands were occupied with unbuckling my belt and lowering my zipper. They slid into my waistband and over my hips, caressing me there through my panties before she eased my jeans down over my ass and thighs.

The material pooled at my feet, and I half wondered if she remembered I still had my shoes on. Apparently not, or she didn't care, because she caressed my bare arms, making me shiver.

"I know you're not cold," she whispered against my hair. "Your body is very warm. It's from arousal."

I nodded slightly, unable to form any words at the moment. I made a weak attempt to send her a signal through our minds to touch my breasts again. My tiger liked when she did that.

Blake must have heard or just like liked that contact, too, because both breasts were in her hands a second later. Massaging, squeezing, running her thumb over my nipples through the thin material of my bra.

"So lovely." Her lips brushed my cheek at the same time as she pinched both nipples, making me cry out and writhe against her. "So receptive."

She kept that up for a few minutes, teasing me. Making me buck against her when the sensation got too intense. She'd ease off then continue.

I was on the verge of an orgasm when she ceased her play completely and turned me, helping me lie back on the bed. The comforter was cool and soft against my bare skin, making me sigh and smile. My legs were freed of my ankle boots then socks before she stripped me of my jeans. All I had left was my bra and panties.

"What a marvelous little minx you are," she repeated several times, interspersed with purrs and growls as she caressed me from shoulder to heel with her fingertips and then her hands. "All mine."

That made me whimper in delight. My tiger laid down prone to her bear, chuffing at the attention.

"Stay." The command was soft, almost whispered, but still direct as she stepped away from the bed and rummaged in the nightstand drawer. A moment later, she held up a black eye mask. "Let us restrict your sight and see how you come alive."

The room went completely dark once she'd placed the blindfold over my face. There was also no sound. I rolled my head from side to side, trying to locate where she'd gone. I wanted to relax, but I was so anxious. Which was evident in my cry when I first felt her lips at my exposed neck.

She didn't admonish or speak. She was too busy kissing her way down my body in the same path that she'd done with her hands.

Me? I just lay there and took the sweet torture, moaning softly. Shivering yet growing warmer by the second. And not just outwardly on my skin.

The kisses stopped. But a familiar sensation returned in the silence. The one of being watched.

I let out a soft gasp at the pleasure of that thought. While my tiger flicked her tail at the knowledge that she was still being hunted, something brushed against my parted lips. Something firm, but not fingers or a mouth. A nipple. Which pressed harder until it nestled into the open space of my mouth. By instinct, my tongue tasted her. My lips puckered around her plump offering.

"Good girl," Syr whispered. She didn't touch me in any other way. Just held her breast to my mouth. "Worship me."

I didn't need any more coaxing to lick and suck the nub that seemed to grow thicker the longer my tongue embraced it. But the moment I lifted my hand with the intent to hold her breast--to fondle and squeeze it--she took both of my hands in one of her own and held my wrists above my head against the pillow. That made me moan loudly. And her to smash her breast against my face.

Wait! Could you suffocate this way?

My sudden alarm dispersed a soon as it had appeared, though, because I didn't really care. It was delightful. As was the scent of her warm skin as it rubbed against my nose. It took me deeper into the sensations, as though she was leading me into the forest. Like a wood nymph. Promising me untold treasures. Though it could be dangerous.

"You are such a marvel, little minx," Blake huffed, straddling my waist. Her bare thighs touching mine made my hips jump. She settled me down by sitting fulling on my groin.

By the heat I could feel emanating over my pussy through my panties, she wasn't wearing anything on the bottom. Which meant she was completely naked. On top of me.

Her sharp cry when I bit down on her nipple was music to my ears. But I didn't expect her to grip my chin and hold my mouth in place when she ripped her breast away.

"You want to play rough, eh?"

Before I could answer, she smashed her lips to mine in our first kiss. All I could manage was a strangled yelp as so many sensations flooded my head at once.

Syr's hot breath invaded me while her teeth and tongue competed at claiming my mouth. Her hand above remained firm, keeping my hands from touching her. And her body weighting me down kept my hips from humping.

Restrained in the most natural way.

All my senses seemed to split into specific sharp fragments of taste and touch and sound before they merged into a puddle of pleasure at my core.

When Syr's hand slid from my chin to envelope my neck--her fingers stroking and lightly squeezing--she began rocking over me.

My tiger pounced and rolled around in my body. Enjoying every single second of it.

The moment I tried to kiss Blake back, her hand moved behind my head and gripped my hair, tugging to keep my head tilted back.

"My mouth," she grumbled and then attacked again. Catching my lower lip between her teeth before exploring my mouth with her tongue.

I felt my tiger relent a little, basking in the dominant attention. Especially when Syr's hand left my throat and shoved up the left cup of my bra to grip my breast. As her fingers rolled and pinched my nipple, my back arched in delight. Muffled whimpers escaped from where her mouth was sealed to mine, and her fist relaxed then retightened in my hair.

My hips tried to buck, to move with her body. She let me for a moment. Then she ground her hips against mine in a circular motion, pressing me back into the bed. When her weight rose up, my body followed. Together, we moved in a wave before she crashed me back onto shore. Over and over again. All while she kissed me with reckless abandon, though there was probably a method to her madness. Most likely, to drive me mad. It was successful.

Suddenly, her hands released me, slinking away across my skin with just her fingertips, sending shivers from tit to toe. Her weight shifted downward rather than lifting off me, her heavy panting as her lips left my mouth reminiscent of an animal trying to catch its breath.

It was fucking hot and left me whimpering louder.

"Shh, little minx." Blake's voice was gruffer, almost unintelligible. One hand skated over my hip, playing with the waistband of my panties, making my lower body twitch. "I want to see what treasure you're hiding from me."

I expected her to run her hand over my pussy. Anticipated it. But when she lifted my bra over my other breast and growled, I licked my lips and rolled my head to the side, my fingers clenching. That's when I realized I was no longer restrained there. But I had no desire to move my arms at all.

Both of her hands covered my breasts. Gently at first. Cupping and caressing them. Apparently feeling the weight of them. Then she stroked the nipples almost reverently with her thumbs.