Primal Pt. 01

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After a much-too-long hiatus, I’m trying my hand at another lesbian series. With a kinky twist. If BDSM is not your thing, even at a mediocre level… Well, you’ve been warned. Enjoy!

SSW

***

I was prey. And I’d just walked directly into the lion’s den.

A hundred eyes were watching me. Even in the murky light, I knew it. I felt it. Tracking my every move from the moment I’d crossed the threshold.

You couldn’t see them turn their heads. The ones closet to the door didn’t even seem interested. But that’s what predators do. They hide in the shadows. Remain silent. Still. Waiting while the prey comes through the narrow entrance. Calculating when to strike.

I could hear their thoughts, too, despite the thumping of the music drowning out any chatter.

Was I single? What was I looking for? Would I be easy or a tough catch? Was I worth their time?

No, I don’t have superpowers, except for the knack of getting into crappy relationships. I just knew.

Because I’d been here before. Multiple times. Just not in this club.

Maggie’s, the neon sign with a martini glass outside had announced. Unassuming from the outside, one door among many on a quiet street. Brimming with estrogen once you followed the rope-lighted stairs downwards.

It looked like most lesbian or gay clubs I’d been to. A bar, a stage of some sort, some tables scattered about. Mood lighting so you could still see but dark enough to feel like your conversation was private. Patrons standing or sitting. Observing any new prospect’s every move.

Prospects like me.

But I was unperturbed. It wasn’t my first rodeo. I just hoped I didn’t get bucked off on my first attempt to ride. Let me last a few seconds, please?

There was one empty seat at the bar. It was close to the door, so I could escape if I felt the pressure of any attack was coming on too strong.

The first came just as I ordered.

None of my senses had picked up on her approach. I’d turned slightly to scan the room from my vantage point–knowing my position had probably made myself more noticeable…vulnerable–only to find a tall brunette with flowing locks leaning one suntanned arm on the bar as she looked me over twice before her grin widened.

She was invading my personal space. Not exactly how you want to win someone over. But I gave her a brief smile and nod. The bartender, the only male in the place that I could tell, made his way back over to me with my drink. Before I could reach into my pocket, Tall some just refilling drink orders before returning to their tables.

Again, no one was blatantly staring back at me. But that’s where I was feeling the greatest pull.

Somewhere in that mess of women by the bathroom doorway, someone had staked me as their prey. The longer I stared at that shadowy cluster, more than my mouth watered at the thought of what could transpire.

This was the hunt I relished. Had been missing while I’d been traveling so much. Now that I was settled into my new place in my new city, I was antsy to get back into the game.

Whomever she was, she was going to have to give chase. To fight for me. I licked my lips in anticipation and waited with bated breath.

Another sweep of the room made me pause. There was a third possible way out down the hallway behind the stage. Knowing she could sneak out without me seeing made it hard to relax.

If I missed out on this chance… Then again, if she gave up that easily…

Okay, maybe I wouldn’t play hard to get tonight. Especially since I was super horny. I needed release in the worst way. I’m surprised no one else around me picked up on my scent. Or maybe they had but were unwilling to take a chance for some reason.

“Come and get me,” I whispered and finished off my drink.

The bartender caught my gaze. He brought me a refill and waved away Cebeci travesti the $20 bill I held up, giving me a wink instead before he went to fill another patron’s order.

I looked down the line as he walked away. My eyes paused on each woman who chatted and drank and played with the swirly sticks in their glasses. No one seated or standing at the bar looked back.

But that impression had intensified.

My hand shook slightly when I raised my glass to my lips. I relished the diluted fire now coating my throat. The cool glass in my hand. More aware now, my eyes darted around in time with my increased heartrate.

Who was she? Where was she?

Another sip. Longer this time. And then I sensed her. Behind, not in front of me.

I set the glass down and tried to take a deep breath, counting to ten in my head to slow my pulse.

Her scent–woodsy with a hint of something that made my inner tiger purr–hit my nose a second before the low growl over my shoulder caressed my ears.

“It takes a lot to catch my attention,” my secret admirer said. The sultry tones of her voice made me sit up straighter. There was a slight movement against my hair, an audible sniff, and then another soft growl. “You’re quite brave, coming in here tonight.”

I smirked at that. Wielded some of that bravado she spoke of. “I will leave if you tell me to.”

Her laugh was more of a chuckle. Husky. Very sexy. She sniffed again near my ear–longer this time, more obvious–and then released a soft moan before saying succinctly, “No.”

I resisted the urge to turn toward her. I usually enjoyed taunting my predator. Being a bit of a brat. But tonight, I felt a dire need to do whatever she said or asked of me. The idea of that thought alone made my breath catch.

“Come, my little minx. Let’s go where we can both sit and talk.” Her hand clasped my elbow, helping me down from the bar chair.

She was slightly taller than me, which made me smile. At my five-nine stature, I felt I stood out in the wrong ways. Especially in relationships because I was usually the tallest. But not tonight.

My glass in my other hand, I let her steer me past the rest of the women at the bar. Past the door to the bathroom hallway. Past several tables of more women.

If any of them were watching us, I didn’t notice. On the far side of the room, a lone table for two sat empty. I had tunnel vision the moment I saw it. I knew it was her destination. And I smirked again, noticing how it gave a perfect eyeline toward where I’d sat at the bar. But it was dark enough that I would have missed whomever was sitting there earlier.

Once we reached the table, she used her free hand to drag one chair so it faced into the room and then guided me to sit down. She pulled the other chair closer with her foot, positioning us side by side against the wall before she sat herself. Only then did she release my arm.

I instantly missed her touch even though it had been through the long sleeve of my shirt. The whimper I tried to suppress behind a gulp of alcohol was more of a whine. Definitely animalistic. I dropped my gaze when I saw her lift her arm in my peripheral vision, but she didn’t touch me again.

That’s when I noticed a glass of something dark sitting on the table.

She picked it up and swirled the liquid for a moment.

I followed the path of her hand. Envisioning what it would be like to feel her full lips touching mine instead of the rim of that glass.

The corner of her mouth twitched as she took a sip.

I apparently amused her. Good. We couldn’t always be serious. I took the opportunity to scrutinize her more closely.

My secret admirer had a handsome, angular face with a narrow nose. Her silvery hair was buzzed on the sides and longer on top in an overall spiky style. It complimented her gray eyes Cebeci travesti that reflected the light of the wall sconce. One black-and-silver diamond-shaped stud and a small cuff that looked like either black stainless steel or titanium adorned her right ear. There was a hint of a tattoo peeking above her two collars–one from a gray T-shirt, the other the black-and-red buffalo print flannel shirt she’d layered on top and left open. The marking was too obscure to tell what it might be.

I gulped, taking a drink from my own glass. Yes, yes, she would do quite nicely.

After a few more sips on her part, she said, “So, little minx. Do you have a name?”

Name. What was my name? Where had these nerves come from? I licked my lips and finally answered, “Riley.”

“Riley.” She looked up at something, seeming to roll my name over in her mind. Then she nodded and gave me that sexy grin. “I like it. I’m Blake.”

I wasn’t sure if I should shake her hand, especially since she didn’t offer it, so I just nodded and echoed her. “I like it.”

That made her chuckle again. Then we just stared at each other for a few moments. Or maybe it was longer. I blinked and realized she’d put her arm around the back of my chair. Her fingers brushed the back of my shoulder, making me shiver.

“May I touch your hair, Riley?” she asked, her glass paused at her lips.

I wet my own lips again and started to nod then stopped. “Yes, you may.”

“Thank you.” Her voice was that low purr like the first time she’d talked to me up at the bar. After a slow sip, she said, “Black looks good on you.”

“Thank you.” I wasn’t sure if she meant my hair or my clothes. My brain had gone fuzzy the second her fingers buried in my long, dark waves. She wasn’t even touching my scalp, but I felt every bit of her weaving those fingers through the strands as though she were.

She hummed appreciatively and continued to stroke my hair, raising and lowering her drink with her other hand. Only when it was gone did she speak again. “Do you see them watching you, Riley?”

I blinked and stared across the room. Every movement seemed in slow motion. I didn’t spot it at first, but Blake was right. The other women would occasionally glance our way. One or two here and there. Not as noticeable like if I’d made a loud noise to draw all of their attention at once. I half wondered if Honey was watching, too. That made me smile.

“They know you’re off limits now. You’ve been claimed. For tonight, at least. Their loss is my gain.”

It was my turn to hum in agreement. I managed to lift my own glass to my mouth without spilling it. The cool liquid felt good in my suddenly-parched mouth. Shivers rippled across my shoulders when her fingers grazed over the back of my neck. I had a brief moment of wishing she’d grip my hair there and tug my head back. When she didn’t, I whimpered softly in disappointment.

Blake chuckled. “Do you like the attention?”

“No,” I answered without thinking.

“Don’t lie to me–“

“But I’m used to it.”

“Ahh.” Her fingertips scratched lightly against my skin.

My head dropped forward, a soft gasp escaping my dry lips.

“Very interesting, little minx. Tell me to stop if I go too far.” Her fingers suddenly gripped a cluster of hair and gently tugged my head backwards.

I couldn’t stop my eyes closing in bliss. Or the moan that raced up my throat when my jaw dropped open. My brain cried out for more.

Her fingers let go, letting my head relax. She returned to stroke my skin. The moment I opened my eyes and sighed, she gripped and tugged again. Another moan, back to relaxing, and then more moaning. But it was all so subtle, anyone watching wouldn’t have noticed. Or heard anything over the base of the music playing from the stage directly to our left.

“You’re definitely Cebeci travesti enjoying this,” Blake crooned against my ear when she leaned in. Her right hand still in my hair, she grazed the backs of her fingers on her left hand over my larynx. “Would you moan like that for me if I held you here?”

Even though she didn’t put any pressure on my throat, it was hard to swallow. That cotton-ball feeling had returned. It wasn’t painful. Rather, it reminded me of buried memories. Her touch brushed away the top surface, uncovering them, making me whimper.

“I’ll take that as a yes, little minx.” She dropped her left hand, her fingers lightly stroking my wrist and the back of my left hand in my lap. Drawing more whimpers from my core. “I wonder what other lovely sounds you make, Riley. Would you let me find out?”

I blinked and slowly turned my head to look at her over my shoulder. “Yes.”

Her eyes narrowed, darkening as she leaned toward me. So close anyone watching might think she was going to kiss me. Her hand in my hair tightened again, keeping my head still. “I live upstairs. Would you like to come home with me, Riley? Would you let me do things to you that will make you forget about all of the other women who have fucked you?”

My gasp morphed into a growl as she finished speaking. I had to lick my lips twice before I could croak out, “Yes, ma’am.”

“It’s ‘Syr.’ With a Y.”

I’d been right to reject Honey. The others. Blake was who I wanted. Needed. The proper predator for my primal side tonight. I lowered my eyes then raised them back to hers. “Yes, Syr.”

Her mouth twitched into that sexy grin. She stroked the back of her fingers down my cheek this time, drawing another whimper from me. “Good girl.”

If I hadn’t been sitting, my knees would have given out from those two words. But she didn’t give me time to think or recover.

Once more, I had tunnel vision as Blake helped me to my feet and led me by my elbow down the hallway between our table and the stage. At the back was a door opening to another staircase leading up. We stopped at two closed doors on the main floor. One had an ‘Exit’ sign over it. She unlocked the other and flipped a switch inside before heading up first.

I blinked rapidly at the sudden change of light, though the black walls with geometric designs in red and turquoise blue decorating either side of the stairs muted the brightness.

“Close the door, Riley.”

I obeyed and then froze again, getting my first good glimpse of her from the shoulders down, albeit from the backside. Her flannel shirt unfortunately covered her butt. Hopefully not for long. And while she had wide shoulders, the way her dark jeans hugged her long legs as she climbed the stairs made it evident that she had a slim build under those clothes. To complete the ensemble, her feet were clad in yellow construction boots.

All of that paired with her short hairstyle, gravelly voice, and her overall dominating nature? She was one-hundred-percent butch. I wanted her. And she wanted me.

Gripping the wooden handrail, I tried to catch my breath. This was the best hunt ever.

Blake stopped at the top of the steps. Without looking back, she called, “Having second thoughts?”

“No, Syr.” I hurried after her, my heart racing.

She waited until I’d reached the step below her before saying, a smile evident in her voice, “Good. I have plans for you, little minx.”

Good, I looked forward to it.

She let out a soft chuckle, as though reading my mind, and unlocked the door at the end of a small landing. “Please, come in.”

Four steps into her apartment, I paused. The immediate room was softly illuminated by two table lamps. I don’t know what I expected to find, but white walls with minimal artwork; two white plush couches decorated with throw pillows of the same colors as the walls outside; and natural wood tables with white accents arranged on a natural wood floor with an oversized area rug that mimicked the stairway walls grounding it all was not it. That same style carried into the kitchen I could see on the other side of the open floorplan.