Raw Ch. 02

We were led into a living room area with a fireplace surrounded by two green couches and two matching recliners. The decorations were simple and masculine in nature. Nothing showy. Obviously a bachelor pad. I was distracted from my observations by Drake's voice.

"This is my sister Becca. Becca, meet Master Malcolm."

"It's a pleasure to meet you." My voice sounded faint to my ears. I added a smile to show my sincerity. "Thank you for taking the time to see me."

"The pleasure is all mine." The tall man before me had his dark hair pulled back into a ponytail, his brown eyes shiny. His hands were warm as he clasped mine between his. "When not in a scene, you can just call me Malcolm. Tell me, are you really the writer of the Dex Knightly series? I told your brother I wouldn't believe it until I asked you in person."

I laughed, letting my shoulders relax. "Yes, I am."

His gentle smile widened into a full-fledged grin. "I so want to get your autograph before you leave today. I love your books!"

"I would be honored." I felt the heat rising in my cheeks now. Well, this could be...interesting.

"If you'll take a seat, I'll be back in just a moment. I'll let Lady Daphne know you've arrived."

I watched him walk away. He looked rather casual in his green T-shirt with an open-flannel shirt over top and his dark jeans—which showed off a mighty-fine ass. But, his flawless posture, constant eye contact, and the direct but polite way he spoke told me he was in charge. Yet, he didn't appear over-confident like Brian had, as if he knew he wielded control over a woman merely because he could.

Malcolm hadn't made me feel small or invisible. In the short few minutes since I'd walked in the door, he'd made me feel welcome. That went a very long way. Especially after what I had been through.

Drake chose one of the couches but gestured to a recliner for me. "I think you'll feel more comfortable without all of the open space around you."

I took the proffered seat and sat upright with my feet planted on the floor. After a moment, I relaxed and pulled one leg up under me. Then I adjusted with both legs up on the chair. Finally, I returned to my original position. I heard a clock ticking nearby and proceeded to tap my fingers on my knee to the same rhythm until Drake cleared his throat.

"Malcolm won't bite, you know? You don't even have to entertain any of his suggestions. Just listen. Think of it like you're doing research for one of your books."

"Thanks, Drake. I really do appreciate it. I don't remember ever being so nervous."

"Weren't you nervous about your interview? You were revealing your true identity to a stranger with the assumption he'd keep your real name and gender a secret."

I shrugged. "I had the upper hand."

"Ahh. I thought you liked being controlled?"

I lowered my gaze and scratched at an invisible stain on my jeans.

"Now is the time to be honest, Becca. You told me not being in control was one of the aspects you liked during your encounter on Saturday. You had no idea what was going to happen next. You were at the mercy of your partner, and that turned you on."

I nodded slightly. Dammit, why did he have to be such a good listener?

"The interview was my own realm. My world. I wasn't really anxious about Brian leaking the truth because I could enforce legal action on him if he did. But in the bedroom?" I shuddered and tried to push away the memories.

"He chased you, Becca, just like you told him to."

"Not the way I wanted, though."

"How so?"

I stared at the dark fireplace. It reminded me of Brian's attitude at lunch. In the car. Cold. Dark.

"Becca?"

"He exuded control. He wore it like his suit. Yet he was all business. He had an agenda. As if he considered bedding me a prize, the end goal. He didn't care about me. My feelings. What I liked and didn't like. That was evident in his decision to end any further interaction if I voiced the safe word."

"What did you want, Becca?"

I snapped my head up to see Malcolm perched on the opposite arm of the couch from where Drake sat. I kept my eyes on his, unwilling to submit even if he was a Master in the sexual arena. We were not under any agreement, and I needed to build up my courage if I wanted to keep my voice in future arrangements with kinky partners. Drake had drilled that into me yesterday.

"Yes, I wanted to be chased. But I wanted him to have feelings. To not be just another notch on his twisted bedpost. I enjoyed our time together very much once we'd reached his house. Yet..."

The men were silent while I tried to find the right words. Eventually, I shrugged.

"He was the embodiment of Christian Grey. Or he was attempting to be. As if he'd studied the character and became him because he thought that's what women wanted. If he could be what they wanted, they would want him. And for a few hours, I was his naïve Ana. I'd had no experience, so I didn't know what I liked or didn't like initially. And he knew that. He used that to his advantage. Drew me into the pleasure. But secretly, he had every intention of controlling my life like Christian wanted to control Ana's. He just thought if he could seduce me first, get me addicted to the sexual part, I'd blindly agree to whatever he offered. I hate those books, you know?"

Malcolm just nodded, a small smile on his lips.

"As much as I enjoyed the kinky nature of our time together, I really wanted...vanilla, too." I closed my eyes and sighed. "God, I just wanted to hold him and be held while we had sex. But it was all 'hands off' and 'don't speak.' Rules that set the mood off kilter."

"You know, I was only going to have us sit and chat up here today, but I think I'd like to try something if you're willing." Malcolm stood and waited for us to rise as well.

The three of us walked through the living room and the kitchen before Malcolm opened a door. At the bottom of a stairway was another closed door. A red light bulb was lit up beside this one.

"You did not tell me we were entering the red light district," I whispered to my brother with a giggle.

"Tells any visitors that a session is in progress," Drake said.

Malcolm knocked twice on the door before he opened it. Apparently he saw my eyebrows raise in question as he added, "I host parties occasionally—some of them for training—and I had a roommate until a month ago when he got married. It's unfortunate to have someone walk in on you when you're not expecting it."

I took a deep breath as he led us onward. Drake had told me about play parties where the kinky folk would get together and embrace their fetishes; sometimes for show, sometimes in one-on-one couples. It was just strange to actually be in someone's house where it was designed to accommodate those parties whenever the opportunity arose.

I glanced around, not sure what I was expecting. Part of me assumed it would be a 'red room of pain' like in the 'Fifty Shades' books. The other part wanted the coziness of Brian's master bedroom. In reality, it was neither.

The full dimensions could not be determined as black curtains hung down the width of the room. If I reached out with my arms, I would only be about two feet short of touching the curtain on my left and five feet from the wall on my right. Also to my right were four folding chairs with padded seats, lined up in an L-shape facing the middle of the room. The space before us was void of any furniture besides a wooden, ladder-back chair and a stereo on a small table. The floor was dark gray carpet, and the walls matched the curtains. Above us, soft yellow light glowed through inset squares in the ceiling.

"Becca, would you prefer to have Drake stay?"

I flinched at the sound of Malcolm's voice so close to my ear. "Y-yes."

"Please join our guests," Malcolm said.

For a moment, I wondered who he was talking to. Then the black curtains parted, and a blonde-haired, barefooted woman wearing a plain white T-shirt and denim shorts stepped through. Lady Daphne, I presumed. I was half-expecting her to be dressed in a corset with knee-high leather boots, maybe carrying a riding crop.

I stifled my snort. So much for the stereotype.

"Lady Daphne, I would like to introduce Lady Becca, Master Drake's sister."

Drake gave her a soft smile and tipped his chin before taking a seat in one of the chairs. If I didn't know better, they knew each other quite well. He hadn't given me any indication he was in a long-term relationship when we'd talked yesterday, but I wouldn't be surprised if they were partners. Which really made me feel like an outsider right now.

My hand shook as I raised it to her outstretched one. "It's good to meet you, um...Ma'am?"

"That sounds so old. 'Lady Daphne' is fine." She turned to our host. "I like her, Master Malcolm."

She winked at me before she took a seat next to my brother. The way she smiled back at him and held his eyes for a long moment, I knew I had been correct in my theory.

"Now, Lady Becca, I want you to relax," Master Malcolm said, taking my hand and leading me toward the solitary chair in the middle of the room. "There is no right or wrong here today. However, there are two rules. Please address me as Sir or Master Malcolm. And the safe word is 'Chewbacca.' If you feel uncomfortable at any time, use it."

I couldn't help it. I tried to cover my mouth as I laughed, which only made the sound come out as a strange, muffled giggle, to which I then snorted.

Master Malcolm's serious face broke into a wide grin. "I have a Star Wars fetish. Sue me."

"Yes, Sir." I glanced at Drake—I could not fathom calling him Master—and Lady Daphne who were smiling and nodding. I did not want to think about Master Malcolm roleplaying as Hans Solo and Princess Leia. I would completely lose my focus then. So I took a deep breath and said, "The safe word is Chewbacca. Got it."

"Master Drake has already informed me of your situation, and of course I heard most of your conversation upstairs. May I first express my sincerest apologies that you were treated that way by one who professes to live this lifestyle. That was highly inconsiderate of him. One's first experience should not have been fearful. I'm glad you were not discouraged to try again."

I lowered my eyes to the carpet and tried to clear my head. I could do this. You didn't learn until someone showed you. Brian hadn't been trying to teach me. I saw that now. He had done what he wanted. He had expected me to be pliable to his decisions.

"Lady Becca?" Master Malcolm tipped my chin up. "We will take our time, okay? We won't do anything you do not want to do. And the safe word will stop the session. We'll take a break and come back if you so desire. I am here to help you, not chastise you. Do you understand?"

My lower lip trembled, and I blinked away pending tears. "Yes, Sir."

"Good. First things first. Do you have any hard limits? Things you absolutely will not do under any circumstance? Any areas to avoid on your body?"

"Anal." I blurted the word out and then slapped my hand over my mouth.

Master Malcolm gently took my hand and lowered it, squeezing it in his. He laid my hand on the back of the chair. "It's okay, Lady Becca. You are not alone in that realm. You have every right to say how your body can be touched. Anything else?"

I struggled to think. Hell, I could list a lot of things that Drake had mentioned yesterday. Things that I could never have imagined people being interested in to get their rocks off.

I glanced nervously at Drake then back to Master Malcolm. "I guess anything that would cause me pain or humiliation. I'm sorry. I'm drawing a blank on specific acts. I'm not too well versed in the lifestyle."

"That's quite alright. You mentioned no pain. Would that include spanking?"

I had to close my eyes for a moment. My grip tightened on the wooden slat as my legs wobbled. When Brian had smacked my ass twice, once on each cheek, and then later used a riding crop, I'd been confused at my reaction. While it had smarted, it had also been shockingly arousing.

"Lady Becca?" Master Malcolm's voice was soft in my ear, his hand gentle on my shoulder. He leaned around me so we were eye-to-eye. "Are you okay?"

I swallowed heavily then nodded. "Yes, Sir, I'm fine. He used a crop a few times. But I haven't had enough experience, though, to determine if I like it or not."

"Understood. If you're ready to begin, please face the wall." He moved my left hand so it was resting on the top rail of the chair back as well. "Close your eyes."

I did as he asked. For several minutes, nothing happened. I just stood there by the chair, thinking about what could happen. What did I even want to happen?

I flinched when music started. It wasn't loud, but it sure sounded like it against the otherwise stillness of the room. I recognized the song as Dido's "Stoned." Then I gasped as Master Malcolm's chest brushed against my back. His hands rested on my shoulders and massaged lightly. I exhaled as I relaxed, my grip on the chair loosening I listened to the beat and lyrics.

I could hear Master Malcolm breathing. Slow, steady breaths. I tried to match them as his fingers rubbed harder. They moved to stroke my neck on either side, then the base of my skull until I let my chin drop.

"Good girl," he whispered. "Just relax."

Shivers ran up my back, and I whimpered softly.

"Do you like to be called that, Lady Becca?" His warm breath skimmed my ear, making goosebumps pop up on my arms. The power of words could be as arousing—if not more—than an intimate touch. His sultry tone just added to the effect. "Do you like to be told you're a good girl?"

"Y-yes, Sir." My knees wobbled again. I had trouble inhaling. Especially when his hands moved from my neck down to my arms, grazing over my bare skin below the short sleeves of my shirt. I wondered if he felt the shudder that made my body tremble.

Since my arms were in front of me, he had to step closer to continue his path. His groin pressed up against my ass, and I whimpered again. He continued to stroke my arms over and over again, his flannel shirt brushing against my exposed skin, the texture slightly rough and highly stimulating.

When I could resist no longer, I pressed my ass back into him. He pressed forward, making me moan.

"Good girl."

He returned to the massage, starting at my neck and shoulders then back down to my arms. Again, I pressed back into him, and he into me. My moans became more frequent, although soft and drowned out by the music.

Okay, the man was going to drive me crazy if he continued like this.

"Stop, Lady Becca."

I gasped and froze.

"Tell me how you feel. What are you thinking?"

I gripped the chair tighter. "I'm embarrassed."

"Embarrassed to tell me what you're thinking?"

"No, Sir." I licked my dry lips. "Embarrassed to...well...be dry humping you...and the chair."

There was dead silence for a moment. I half expected to hear a snicker from my brother. I was glad I did not. He should be as well.

Master Malcolm finally spoke. "Would you prefer Master Drake leave?"

I struggled with that answer. I settled on shaking my head. "No, Sir."

"Very well. What else are you feeling, Lady Becca?"

I closed my eyes and swallowed heavily. "Horny, Sir. Anxious, yet not sure what to expect."

"Shall we continue?"

"Yes, Sir."

Master Malcolm's fingers caressed the top of my hands now, and I realized he was standing in front of me. I leaned toward him as his hands withdrew, feeling the chair back press into my belly. He repeated the gesture, and I reacted the same way.

"Take my hand, Lady Becca. Keep your eyes closed."

My hand shook as his fingers curled around mine. He led me around the chair and gently pressed on my shoulder until I sat. Then he lightly tapped his foot against the insides of my feet.

I spread my legs and waited.

"Are you doing okay, Lady Becca?"

"Yes, Sir."

The insides of my knees brushed against his jeans as he stepped between them. Immediately, my hands lifted to his hips. I moaned. Dammit. I was so fucking horny...

"I'm sorry, Sir." I went to pull away, but his hands covered mine.

He didn't speak. He stood still, the heat of his palms warming the tops of my hands, the flannel of his shirt pressed to my palms.

I took a couple of deep breaths, grateful for the support against my back and underneath me. I would have collapsed if I'd been standing up. I could feel the heat emanating through his clothes; the warmth of my own breath as I exhaled and the air hit him, bouncing back to me.

After a long period of hearing my heart trying to escape through my ears, he removed my hands.

"I think we're done for now. It has been a pleasure, Lady Becca." He helped me stand but kept his hand on my elbow as I opened my eyes and turned around. "Why don't we retire for some refreshments?"

I let out a deflated sigh. That was it? I had been expecting...well, I wasn't sure what. But something more than a short neck and arm massage. And sitting me in the chair? I don't know what he was trying to prove, but I'd be damned if wouldn't have sucked his cock if he'd pulled it out right then and there, to hell with my brother and his lady friend. That thought made my whole body shake.

Drake took Daphne's hand and helped her to her feet. They waited until Malcolm and I passed before following us upstairs. Daphne disappeared once we reached the main floor, and the three of us ended up in what I assumed was a den. As warned, the room was decorated—quite tastefully—in Star Wars memorabilia: framed posters on the walls; figures, vehicles, and a replica lightsaber displayed in plastic cases on backlit shelves.

Master Malcolm led me to a black, leather sofa. Drake sat on the opposite couch, and I didn't even try to hide my smirk. Daphne appeared with six-pack of beer. After handing each of us a cold bottle, she took a seat next to Drake, cuddling up to his side. Drake smiled at me as he pressed his lips to the top of her head.

He had a kinky lover and a girlfriend all wrapped up into one. I was happy for him. And a tad jealous.

To my surprise, Malcolm sat at the other end of my couch although there was an empty recliner that would have probably been more comfortable and allowed him to see all of us. In his current position, he could only look at me.

"Are you ready for your analysis?"

I swallowed the gulp of beer in my mouth. I wanted to look away, but I felt compelled to keep eye contact as well. He did have lovely eyes. They were the color of maple syrup. Warm, sweet, inviting. The thought made me smile. "Analysis?"

"Yes. That's why your brother brought you here, was it not?"

I glanced at Drake, and he just nodded. My stomach clenched as Daphne reclined against him, her head on his shoulder. Okay, so I was getting a kinky analysis. It couldn't be too bad.

"You're very tense." Malcolm took a drink of his beer. "You need to relax."

"Given the situation..."

"No, Becca. When you're in a scene. Your muscles tighten. If you're not relaxed, you can't fully enjoy the experience. You need to be comfortable. Willing."

"Okay."

"You're needy. Touchy."

I sat up. "I beg your pardon?"

Malcolm held up his hand. "That's not a bad thing. A lot of women are. You said you wanted to touch that guy Saturday. He'd spent the day touching you, and you wanted to reciprocate."

"Yes." I snapped my mouth shut before adding 'Sir.' We were no longer in a scene, and I felt keeping it less formal would help me do what he requested: relax. Plus I was a little on edge. Not speaking my mind at this point was probably a good idea. So I sat back, crossed my arms, and tried not to be cheeky.

"You need to have your partner show he's invested in you for more than just the sexual experience. And you want to express that yourself. That was evident today." Malcolm tilted his head, his smile comforting. "It isn't easy to hold back, is it?"