RAVAGING RAVEN

by Peter King

Free extract from bdsmbooks.com

Chapter 1

            As the fog in her head lifted and she started to regain her senses she realized something was amiss. She opened her eyes but could not see, something was covering her head and coupled with the throbbing of another hangover it disoriented her. When she tried to move and realized she was unable to, a panic started to rise inside her.

            She started to struggle against the ropes she could feel restraining her. She was sitting on a hard chair, her arms pulled over the back, wrists tied together and secured to something below her. She felt ropes binding her ankles and knees to the front legs of the chair, leaving her securely fixed. She fought against the restrictions, but could only wiggle her ass around on the seat.

            She wanted to scream for help, but heavy tape had welded her lips together, leaving her only able to moan incoherently. She shook her head in frustration, sensing some sort of cloth bag covering her head. After struggling for several minutes she came to the conclusion she was thoroughly trapped, so she tried to remember what could have put her in this situation.

Raven Collins was a twenty-one year old beauty, with long brunette hair and equally dark and seductive eyes. She stood five foot six inches tall, with voluptuous curves, weighing in at a svelte 115 pounds. Her natural 34C breasts were her pride and main weapon. She had a voracious sex drive, having lost count of how many men and boys she had seduced in the last four years.

            She lived in a small town and had fucked her way through a large portion of the male population. Her reputation had already been formed, women considered her a tramp and men knew her as an easy lay. Her parents had died in an auto accident when she was seventeen and she had been living off the insurance ever since. The trouble was, after four years, her money was running out. So recently she shifted her goals from seducing men purely for fun, to hunting for a man who could support her.

            In this hick town, those prospects were thin, to say the least. There were a few well to do ranchers in the area, but most were old and married. There were only two that were young, handsome, and wealthy enough to pursue. Hank Thomas and Joe Ferguson were rivals, having each inherited their fathers’ spreads, leaving them the most eligible bachelors in town.

            Raven had spent the last few months putting herself in their sights, frequenting the places they liked to party. She made sure they noticed her, wearing revealing outfits and making sure they saw her strutting her sexuality. She knew she had their attention, she just didn’t know which would be her first conquest.

Now, bound to the chair, she started to remember last night and the strange events at the bar. She had showed up around ten pm wearing her sexy red micro skirt with a low cut white blouse displaying her ample cleavage. Her red stockings and matching pumps made her look as alluring as she could be, evidenced by lustful stares from most of the male patrons.

            She was sitting at the bar and sipping a martini when she saw both Hank and Joe enter together and sit at a booth in the back. This was truly strange; those two barely gave each other the time of day and here they were sitting together talking to each other. When the bartender gave her a note that read ‘Please join us. Joe and Hank,’ she was even more confused.

            She had walked up to the booth and standing between the seated men, she said, “What can I do for you two handsome men?” She used her most lilting and provocative tone, bending over slightly so her tits were prominently displayed for them.

            “Would you please join us?” Joe had asked, as he slid further into the booth and patted the seat beside him.

            She accepted the invitation and sat in the booth alongside him, now facing Hank. “Well, gentlemen, what would you like from me?” she asked, her eyes looking back and forth between the two.

            “Would you like a fresh drink?” asked Hank.

            “That would be nice Hank, a peach martini please,” she responded.

            He got up and went to the bar, then Joe said, “We have been debating something and only you can settle the dispute.”

            She turned to him and replied, “How can little old me settle anything between such prominent men as you?”

            “Well, our dispute revolves around you so we thought we should go to the source.”

            Feeling satisfied that she had truly captured their attentions, she ventured, “Revolves around me? How intriguing, how did I become an object of your attentions?”

            “Well it seems to us that we have caught your interest, as we have both noticed you watching us from a distance recently. So, instead of waiting for you to approach us, we decided to see what you really wanted,” he answered. Hank returned at that moment, placing the fresh drink in front of her.

            Deciding to play hard to get, she took a sip of her drink, and said, “Everyone notices you two, what makes you think there is any more to it than that?”

            Hank replied, “Raven, not to mean any disrespect, but everyone knows what happens when you notice a guy in this town. Several of our friends have painted a clear picture of your attentions and they all lead to the same place.”

            Taking a bigger sip of her drink to gird herself, she snapped back, “Well I never! You would think men would learn not to kiss and tell. Perhaps I should go!”

            As she went to get up, Joe grabbed her wrist and said, “Calm down girl! We are here to tell you we are both interested in getting to know you better, but we don’t want it to become another competition between us.”

            She stopped trying to get up, but pulled her arm away from Joe, saying, “You assume a lot, boys, what if I were to tell you I’m not interested in either of you?” She picked up her drink and finished it, giving them both an angry gaze.

            From there her memories got fuzzy again, she couldn’t remember what happened after that. Did they drug her? She could only remember having two drinks and the way her head was pounding, it felt like she drank a lot more than that. But here she was and she believed they definitely were behind this.

            Now that she remembered part of the last night, she could tell she was in the same outfit she was wearing at the bar. Her tiny skirt was high up on her thighs, with her legs held apart by the ropes wrapped around them. She knew her little red thong panties would barely be hiding her pussy should anyone choose to look between her legs.

            She heard a door open and close, then footsteps approach. She screamed behind her gag, flailing her head and fighting her bonds to no avail. She realized the chair must have been fixed to the floor, as it would not move no matter how hard she fought. Her struggles ceased immediately after two hard slaps, one on each cheek, twisted her head back and forth. The pain and suddenness of the assault shocked the girl to stillness. The hood over her head tempered the blows, but the message was not lost on her.

            Whoever was there said nothing, but she felt cold sharp metal prickling her left arm, trailing up from her elbow. She tensed and remained still, sensing this maniac had a knife and could easily kill her. Then she felt it catch the short sleeve of her top and began rending the material with its sharp edge. It cut through her sleeve and up to the collar by her throat, tearing the fabric apart. Then she felt it cutting the buttons off the front of her blouse until it fell away, exposing her sexy half-cup bra. Then a cut on the opposite side released her other sleeve, and with a rough tug the shredded blouse was pulled off her from behind.

            Fingers slipped under the waist of her skirt and she could feel the knife cut through it. That too was roughly pulled out from under her, leaving her in a half-bra, panties, garter belt, stockings, and pumps. Three quick cuts and her bra was gone, two more and her panties were history. Her fear was now shifting from death to rape, the result no different, just complete terror consuming her mind.

            Things got worse when she felt the blade start scraping along her breasts until she felt the point prodding one of her nipples. Even in her fear, the feeling of the sharp point tracing circles around her areola caused the bud to harden. Both nipples got the same treatment, leaving them hard and sensitized. When the knife traveled down her abdomen and started scraping against her mons and her tiny patch of pubic hair, she shivered involuntarily. She kept a tiny triangle of short hair just above her slit, shaving the rest of her loins smooth.

            She did not know what to do, as if it mattered; in her current state there was not a thing she could do. She sat there as still as she could, but the feel of the blade made her tremble. As it tickled her pubes she felt a hand slip down to her slit and a finger trail against it. Even in her fear, the regularly horny girl felt a tickle of pleasure from the gentle prodding of the finger. When it started to massage her clit, she could not resist the moan that came from her throat. This continued until she could feel her pussy moisten and the finger dipped into it, exploring her inner folds.

            Her moans of pleasure could not be constrained, even as scared as she was; whoever was toying with her knew how to stimulate a woman’s sex. It wasn’t fair, she thought--her pussy was betraying her, even as she feared for her life. The stimulation continued for several minutes, then stopped, leaving her heart racing and her fear back in control.

            Then, just as suddenly, she heard footsteps and the door open and close again, leaving her alone. Totally lost and confused, the scared and naked girl sat there, partially aroused and completely frightened. What was going on? What were they going to do with her? She began sobbing with no idea what lay ahead, just afraid that it would be awful.