Chapter One

 

My mom has OCD. It's not seriously crazy, it's not 'Sheldon' crazy. But she really wants things neat and orderly. Which is hard to do in a family of normal people, especially when some of them are kids. So we cut a deal with her. She stays upstairs.

Given we live in a bungalow, that's not a lot of compromise on her part. But it's a big bungalow. It's not one of those little 1950s bungalows with the small windows and bedrooms. It's a modern bungalow with seventeen-foot cathedral ceilings in the open concept living/kitchen/dining/family rooms, and big bedrooms and multiple bathrooms.

The basement is huge, and despite being a basement, well, the windows are large, and it has lots of light. And to keep sanity in the house my dad made about half of it into this huge room people could hang around in and not get yelled at for not putting their glass on a coaster. The unfinished part of the basement was pretty big, too, with tons of storage, as well as the HVAC system.

The finished part is painted light gray, with three rows of pot-lights running along the ceiling as well as sconces along the walls. It's got a swirly patterned gray carpet, a big, comfy sectional sofa facing a 150-inch wall screen, and a projection system on the ceiling. There's also a small bar with drinks and a small fridge, as well as a popcorn maker.

Behind the sofa is a pool table, and there are a couple of pinball machines and old-fashioned stand-up video games against the wall. Past that is a treadmill, rowing machine, and other exercise stuff I never use.

The important part of all of this is my mom leaves us alone down there. I mean, dad put the washer and dryer up on the first floor, so she has no reason to come downstairs anyway.

Naturally, all my friends love my basement. It's a great place to hang around, especially since my older brother moved out, leaving the basement pretty much to me and my dad. And daddy works long hours so... he mostly never comes downstairs except on the weekend.

My boyfriend Ryan was introduced to me by my friend Savannah principally because we have similar names, and she thought that would be cute. Well, also, Ryan is cute too. My name is Riley, by the way. So yes, it's cute to be Riley and Ryan. And I do like cute.

But of course, Ryan loves the basement not just because of the pool table and big screen on the wall and comfy, cozy sofa but because he can pretty much paw and grope me with impunity any time he's over. That can be annoying, but I've come to realize it's inevitable with boys.

I once thought that well, if I just let them have sex with me all that pent-up energy will dissipate and they'll be less horny. Nope. It just makes them feel more entitled to touch you everywhere. After all, if I let a guy have sex with me why on Earth would I object to getting my breasts pawed all the time? That's what they seem to think, anyway.

Yes, boys are annoying. But as I said, it comes with the territory. You either put up with it or you go gay. And I'm not ready for that. I keep hoping that enough familiarity will breed, if not contempt, then at least less need to keep touching me. So far that's not working out.

I mean, Ryan is twenty. That's not even a teenager anymore! That ought to give him more maturity than previous boyfriends. He's the first non-teenager boy I've slept with. But as the age of the boys I date keeps going up (along with my age) I have yet to see much lessening of their desire to squeeze my butt or fondle my breasts at every possible opportunity.

I'm told that does fade away as they keep aging. Until then I either have to put up with it or date older men.

The concept of dating a man is a strange one. I know that technically Ryan is a 'man'. Just as technically I'm a 'woman'. But I don't think of myself as a woman much. I think of myself as a girl. And I think of Ryan and other guys I know as, well, guys, or boys. I don't think of them as men.

So anyway, I was on the sofa watching a movie on Netflix one night, and Ryan was beside me. He was watching the movie too, or supposed to be. But his hand was sliding up and down my thigh as he did, and often sliding up under my short skirt to cup my pussy through my little thong.

Every time he did that he'd let his middle finger rub up and down along the line of my sex. And since I was wearing lingerie, not underwear (because I wanted to look sexy for him), and since lingerie tends to be a lot thinner than underwear, his finger rubbing against me was more than slightly distracting.

I have to say this for Ryan, he's devoted considerable time to exploring my body. He can be a bit geeky at times, and acts like some scientist type, touching and stroking and poking and prodding to see what effect his fingers have. So he's gotten kind of good in fairly short order in knowing what makes me feel good.

He hasn't gotten so good at reading my temper or mood. But his fingers (and tongue) do know how to please my body. And few of my previous boyfriends had that skill. Because of that I'm more tolerant with his fondling and touching than I might otherwise be.

"Ryan," I sighed, pushing his hand back.

"What? You're my bitch. I get to play with you."

I turned and glared at him. I'm not your bitch," I said indignantly.

"Sure you are. I own you. You're mine," he said, leering.

"I am - !"

His lips crushed mine as he turned fully and fell atop me.

Ryan is an experimenter, like I said. And since he wasn't one of those guys with a huge ego who couldn't take directions he had become really good at kissing. So I didn't necessarily mind what he was doing. Even though his hand came down on my breast at the same time to cup and squeeze it through my thin blouse.

But I did want to push back against that 'bitch' idea. Not for any real reason, I suppose, but feeling a need to stand up for 'womankind' and our equality. But still.

I pushed him back, after letting him kiss me for long seconds. But then he reached down, shoving his right hand under my thighs and his left behind me and scooped me up. He turned back towards the wall screen as he dropped me down to sit across his lap.

"Ryan!" I complained.

Well, whined. Again, I didn't really mind. And in fact, his ability to lift me so effortlessly like that was impressive. Even if sitting across his lap wasn't nearly as comfortable as the cushion I'd previously been occupying.

But then his right hand shot up under my skirt, gripped my little thong, and yanked it right down! I squealed again as he laughed, ignoring me and yanking further until he had succeeded in pulling it right off my ankles.

The sounds I could make were limited, of course. I didn't want my mother or father hearing anything suspicious from up the short flight of stairs. I mean, the kitchen was right near the top of the stairs, and my mom would likely be there.

Plus, I have to say I was starting to feel a hot little thrum of something exciting. Like I said, there are limits to what we do with my parents upstairs. And that isn't just me. Ryan isn't going to get naked and turn around and find my dad had unexpectedly come downstairs!

"If you tore my thong, you're going to buy me a new one!" I hissed.

We 'wrestled' a little, but he was way stronger than I am, and besides, I was only resisting to make a point again. Like, I'm no pushover.

His left hand slid up my back and gripped a thick chunk of my long hair and pulled down.

I yelped, my head forced back, and instinctively reached up and back to grab at his wrist with both hands. He reached up with his other hand, and then his hands captured my wrists, crossing them behind my neck. He gathered my hair in again, wrapped it around my wrists, and then smugly settled me more firmly on his lap.

"Let go!" I hissed.

"Not until you tell me you're my bitch."

"No way!"

"Think I can't make you?"

"No!"

"Think I can't torture you into doing what I want?"

I stuck my tongue out at him.

It wasn't like I hadn't wrestled with boys before under similar circumstances. And it wasn't like I hadn't let myself get 'pinned' before, either. And just like those other times, I was feeling a tight-chested breathlessness as he held me in place. But there was something else too, something edgier!

His other hand was pushing in between my thighs, which, just to be obstinate, I was trying to keep closed. He yanked on my hair some and I yelped, my head forced back more. Distracted, my legs came apart and his hand was in against my pussy. The pads of his fingers quickly found my clitoris and began to rub me.

"Ryaaaan!" I gasped.

"I know how to push your buttons, baby," he said smugly.

He did!

I was already getting wet. He pulled his fingers back, then, startling me, let my head forward and rubbed them along my lower lip.

"Sexy little bitch," he said teasingly.

He slid his index finger into my mouth then!

"Lick," he said.

I felt a hot little rush at his order! But, again I felt that need to show him I wasn't a pushover. I glowered at him and then let my teeth close on his finger - not hard, but warningly.

"If you bite you'll get a spanking," he said.

I snorted in disdain. He wouldn't dare. The noise would carry too far.

But his finger slid back, now slick with my saliva, and quickly found my clitoris again, rubbing at me.

"Tell me you're my bitch," he said.

"You can't make me!" I replied.

"Wanna bet?"

I felt his finger dipping into me, and felt another hot little rush. I was clearly already wet, and his finger slid up into me as I gasped and wriggled in response.

"Do as you're told or I won't let you touch my shoulders," he teased.

"I could care less about your shoulders, Ryan Murphy!" I sniffed.

Which was a lie. He had nice shoulders and when he was shirtless I liked sliding my hands up and down across them. Just like I liked sliding them over his chest, and belly and... other things.

He was pumping his finger slowly inside me and now added a second as he forced my head forward and kissed me again. I gasped into his mouth, moaning a little as my body began to heat up. I started thinking about places we might be able to go where our privacy would be better guaranteed, where we could do more ... energetic things.

Ryan is the first guy I've ever dated who didn't just slide his fingers in and out of me. When he put his fingers into me he did it with a purpose. He worked a second one into me and began to rub the front wall of my sex.

He'd searched for my G-spot, see, just like he'd looked up G-spots on the internet. He was trying to rub it from one side while his thumb rubbed my clitoris on the outside. Getting both of them at once was a deadly combination that was like throwing gasoline on a fire.

And he was getting disturbingly good at it!

As a result, my breathing was becoming more ragged, and I was feeling a growing sense of need and passion and sexual pressure inside my body. And that in turn, was melting me atop him. That heat just seemed to dissolve my bones just like it did my inhibitions.

"Tell me you're my bitch and I'll eat you," he said.

I moaned helplessly, squirming atop him. He pulled my head back by the hair again and slid his fingers out of me, then popped them into his own mouth, grinning at me. A moment later he unbuttoned my blouse.

I gasped, turning my head to the stairway door. The top of the stairs was open. It had a wooden railing around it. And that opening was no more than three feet from the kitchen. At the basement level, there were three doors to the stairway. One led to the finished basement. One led to the unfinished basement, and the one directly ahead from the stairs led to the bathroom.

We made sure to turn the sound up enough to annoy my mother, who wants to listen to classical music when in the kitchen. That got her to tell us to close the door, which was what we wanted.

Now I'm sure my parents are under no illusion that I'm a virgin and that me and Ryan aren't doing anything together. We're both over eighteen, though, and my mother trusts me not to be stupid. That doesn't mean they want us having sex right in the house while they're nearby.

But the door was ominous because you couldn't tell if someone was coming down until it opened. And unlike with my bedroom, say, nobody knocked.

"Ryan!" I gasped.

He ignored me and my shirt parted down the middle. He grinned at me then tugged my bra up over my breasts, baring them.

"You have fantastic tits," he said.

He said that every time he saw them. Which was good for my ego, but still... crude.

He pulled back on my hair again and then his hand pushed under my skirt and started fingering me again. He leaned in and started to lick and suck at my small pink nipples. His lips got wider and wider until they engulfed the center of my breast. Then his teeth started to dig in as he sucked.

He had experimented, like I said, so he knew how to make my breasts throb and burn, and I was soon squirming and moaning even more on his lap.

"Tell me you're my bitch and I'll make you come," he taunted.

I moaned but still held off.

"You're my bitch!" I gasped.

He snorted, then pulled his fingers out of my pussy and slid them along my hip. I wasn't sure why until he loosened the skirt and tugged it down my body.

"Ryan!" I gasped again.

It was one thing to have my panties off. I could just stand up and the skirt would cover me as it should and my dad wouldn't know any better. It was quite another thing to not have anything on!

"I like you naked," he said.

"My father will kick your ass if he comes downstairs!"

"Your father almost never comes downstairs."

"He still might!" I gasped.

"Tell me you're my bitch."

I glared at him.

He grinned, then pulled my open blouse and bra up over my shoulders and down my arms. We wrestled some when he tried to pull them off because he had to let my wrists go free of my hair and everything. I managed to pull back off his lap when he did that, but honestly, I was thrumming with sexual tension and the last thing in the world I wanted was for him to stop!

I was, though, feeling anxious about someone opening that door ten or twelve feet away and seeing me naked!

He pinned my wrists together again above my head, but this time he got off the sofa and then pulled my wrists back atop the back of the sofa.

"What are you... doing!?" I gasped breathlessly.

We'd been hanging plants along the back of the sofa, like to divide it a bit more from the rest of the room. We had a row of potted plants hanging from the ceiling from these knitted rope basket things. And we hadn't quite finished. Now he took one of the knitted rope things and tied it around my wrists as I tried to squirm away.

Right behind the sofa was a table, a big, heavy one my dad had made, and he tied the other end of the rope thing to the table leg!

"Are you crazy!" I gasped, turning and kneeling on the sofa to stare over the back.

"Nope!"

He moved back around to the front and gripped my ankles, yanking my knees out from under me so I fell on my face. Since the back of the sofa was heavily padded that was no big deal. And he then flipped me over onto my back, spreading my legs wide apart, so wide my left leg was put over the raised side of the sofa.

Then he was on his knees in front of me staring at my pussy for a minute. He licked his lips as he looked up at me, and I looked back down, wide-eyed and breathless. Then he leaned in and started to lick me!

Ryan is the first guy I've slept with who not only knew how to perform oral sex on a girl but wanted to do it. And like the rest of my body, he'd experimented, asking for feedback, until he knew just how to make me squirm!

But this was... this was wild and shocking and made me anxious - because of my parents - and also darkly thrilling! First of all, I was completely naked in the basement with the unlocked - and unlockable door right over there within full sight of me!

Not only was I completely naked but I was laying on my back, my legs spread almost achingly wide as he licked me. And I was tied up! Which meant even if a whole crowd of people came through the door I couldn't quickly grab my clothes or hide or something!

"If we get caught my parents are gonna kill us!" I moaned.

"What a way to die!" he replied.

It felt weird to be tied up like this. Especially during sex. I was all laid out helpless before him, my back kind of pushed out against the thick cushions at the back of the sofa. My nipples were hard and tingling, my breasts hot and swollen. My body was pulsing with heat and a rapidly growing sexual pressure.

It felt very kinky, very dark, very wild to be like this. My body was crackling with sexual electricity! The pressure of the rope around my wrists was a constant reminder of how helpless I was as his tongue lapped at my clitoris.

This was fucking outrageous! And that was filling me with something like a sense of awe, despite the anxiety. I mean, my mom was standing about six feet to my right, but upstairs in the kitchen, probably playing with those Italian spices she'd gotten from an internet site. And here I was, her precious baby girls, stripped naked, tied up, legs spread wide while some guy... ravished me!

This was insane!

"Oh! Oh!" I moaned as his fingers touched me just right, right over my G-spot.

His tongue swirled and licked at my clitoris, producing a rippling rush of sensations that made me squirm and twist.

Except my left leg was draped across the arm of the chair and he'd forced my right leg up and back to the side against the cushions at the back of the sofa. God, I was so spread open!

He pulled his fingers out and stopped licking. Damn it! I moaned as his hands slid up my body, kneading my breasts.

"Beg me to fuck you, little girl," he taunted.

I moaned as he jerked his pants down. His cock sprang up thick and hard and long and I shuddered as he took it in his hand. He began to rub the head up and down along the line of my sex, then back and forth against my clitoris.

"Tell me you want my cock inside you," he said.

I did!

I moaned, rolling my eyes upward, then to the side at the door.

"Say you're my bitch," he said.

He laid his cock along my abdomen and gripped both my nipples, rolling them between his fingers. Then he pinched them.

"Ow!"

"Tell me you're my bitch," he demanded.

He pinched them and pulled at them so that I arched my back.

"Ryan!"

"Say it."

"Ow! Oh! I'm your ... bitch!" I gasped.

"Again."

"I'm your bitch!"

He eased his grip on my nipples, rolling and stroking them instead.

"Beg me to fuck you."

This was all super kinky and it was making me super-hot!

"Please fuck me!" I moaned.

He gripped his cock, rubbing the head against my pussy.

"Again."

"Please fuck me, Ryan!"

"Say please fuck me, Master."

Oh wow! That was kinky!

"Please fuck me, Master!" I gasped.