This is the follow up to a short story I wrote some time ago. If you haven’t ready read the first part, I encourage you to [check it out.](https://www.reddit.com/r/eroticliterature/comments/docovt/rebecca_false_magic_gentle_mdom_short_story/)
**Rebecca:**
**Becky**
“You think you’re so clever, don’t you?”
Rowan only smiled, sitting opposite her on the bed. “It’s good to finally hear you, Becky.”
“Is it now?” she replied, her voice taking on an almost acidic pleasantness. “So you’ve gotten me to talk. Does that make you feel good?”
Her voice was a little rusty, deeper than Rebecca was used to. Only minutes before it had been impossible to consider speaking like this. Her words had stuck in her throat and chocked her for so long, every thought strangling her, and now…
“Fuck you.”
He laughed. “Well, fuck you too.”
She glared at him.
“Come on Becky,” he said, his voice soft, “tell me what’s on your mind.”
There was a beat, a silence as they stared at each other, the fire in Becky’s eyes burning hotter and hotter until; “I wasn’t ready for this!”
“For what?”
“For all this!” She gestured hopelessly around the room. “For marriage. For winter homes in the Northlands. Monogamy, babies, laying back and thinking of home.” She got off the bed, pacing about the spacious room, talking to the walls and ceiling as if speaking to her own personal audience. “I was only just becoming a woman and now that part of me has to die forever!” Her voice was tight, raised, the anger there plain as blood on snow. “I’m too young to die! I never got to play! I never got to flirt with boys and drive them mad! I never got to kiss girls and dance and learn the difference between fucking and making love! I’ve never even been in love!”
By this time, she was breathing hard, ranting.
Rowan was no longer smiling. He hadn’t moved from his position on the bed, watching her in silence.
“Now I’m here, all bundled up and bound like a pretty present, from my father to yours. How stupid have I been? Dreaming of dancing while one man sells me to another. I should have been *doing*, not dreaming! I was waiting, *waiting* for someone to come and sweep me off my feet and take me on adventures when I should have run off on my own and seized whatever freedom I had while I had it!”
“I see no chains, Becky,” he said. “No bonds. Go. I am no jailer.”
This stopped her, and Rebecca tried to scrabble for some sort of control. She had said too much, she was talking too much, she had to stop. Her chest hurt and she felt a prickle at the corner of her eyes. Rowan had slid off the bed and was approaching her, moving slowly, his hands open, offering.
“Listen, Becky…”
“I don’t want to listen!”
He stopped. “Then speak.”
“I won’t let you stop me!”
“I don’t want to stop you.”
Snow had started to fall in earnest outside, clouding the windows with frost. It was as if there was nothing beyond the room they both stood in. Rebecca’s heart was hammering. She looked at him, her eyes darting about his face.
“I… I don’t understand.”
He waited, tilting his head, waiting for her to give him permission to speak. She exhaled heavily, gesturing in a tired, throw-away manner.
“I know a little something of how you’re feeling,” he said, slow and careful. “Not all. I won’t pretend that our lots are the same. But the set of rules that you are trapped beneath are not unknown to me. I have my own role, my own set of bars. But I’m going to share with you a secret. Are you ready to hear it?”
Her breathing had come somewhat under control, though her emotions were still close to the surface. Her skin itched with them. She nodded.
The next words he spoke were firm and slow, and he was looking at her intently. He continued his careful approach. “It is all a fiction. A fiction that your parents, and my parents and their parents have believed to be fact. But tell me, what compels us to behave as they have? What happens if we don’t follow the rules?”
“What are you trying to say?” She was watching him, suspicion in her eyes.
“If you want to be free; to dance, to flirt, to fuck, then nothing will cage you. No law, no man, nothing. Certainly not me. I, myself, live a healthy court life and I do not intend to end that after a ceremony. Why should you?”
“What are you, some sort of cuckold?” She snorted, her eyes narrowed.
His serious expression split into a boyish smirk. “You wound me. I think I will go and lay my head on my lover’s lap and cry.”
“You have a lover?”
“Yes,” he said, with no hint of sarcasm.
There was another silence, this one less like a dead weight and more like the expectant stillness before a cool rain. His words had confused her, wrong-footed her, but he wasn’t pushing, wasn’t trying to further unbalance her. He was close to her now, with his hand once again open.
She swallowed. Breathed.
“What does she think of… of this?”
“He thinks it is a regrettable reality of my position.”
“He?”
“Yes.” Rowan’s face was gentle, un-phased.
“Do you like women?”
“Very much so.”
“And men?”
“Yes.”
A pause. She took his hand, and with a smile he led her back to the bed where she sat, suddenly a lot calmer. Rebecca was no longer frantically trying to regain control. She had been afraid of Becky’s anger, but Becky’s curiosity wasn’t so unfamiliar or unpleasant.
“Won’t he hate me?”
“Why would he?”
“Because I’m taking you away from him.”
Rowan gave her a weak smile. “There you go again, honouring these rules. Why? They only hurt us.”
She took a deep breath. She was supposed to feel disgusted, outraged. But inside, she was simply tired and uprooted. With an uneasy feeling, she realised that she didn’t know what was going to happen next. She had expected him to go about the business of making her his wife, and now he was talking to her about freedom, about his lover. She didn’t even know what time it was. It didn’t seem to matter anymore.
“… I don’t want to take you away from him.”
Her slender hand was still in his, warm and safe. His smile broadened. “Good.”
She took a breath. “So, how do we do this?”
He put his other hand over hers. It was so warm and soothing. “When you are in my home, you will do as you please. When we must entertain our parents or the kinds of people who still follow the rules, we shall pretend to follow them so as not to upset anyone.”
“So… we cheat?”
He sighed. “Becky. Life isn’t a game.”
She stared ahead of her, her eyes unfocused, digesting his words. Then she nodded. “Okay,” she said, and then, again; “okay.”
They sat together for some time as their thoughts settled. The fire in the grate had died down but the room was still pleasantly warm. She became aware of his breathing and that her hand was still in his. Out of the corner of her eye, she stole a glace at him, taking in the shape of his jaw, the way his long lashes hooded his bright eyes, as pale as the sky outside and caught by those lashes, glimmering.
“Do you think I’m attractive?” she asked him, her voice low.
He lifted those eyes to her. “Yes, I do.”
She shifted, pulling her feet up onto the bed so she could perch on the edge, turning her body to face him. It was so quiet in the room that the sound of her clothes rustling against her skin could be heard over the sound of the fire. “I liked what you did before, when you put a spell on me.”
“It’s called hypnosis,” he told her.
“False magic,” she said, echoing him from before. “It felt good…”
His smile became crooked, something in his eyes becoming dark. When he replied, his voice was just as low, sweet and rich as honey. “Do you want me to have you tonight?”
Rebecca would never have been able to answer that. Even though something in her body flared to life at his words, and the image of them tangled together, skin-to-skin, hungry and full of need, she would have stammered her excuses, flushed and caught in the web of should’s and should not’s. Becky had no such issue.
“Yes.”
“Have you done this before?”
“No.” She had moved closer to him, so that she could bring her face close to his, mirroring his crooked smile, knowing just how to position her body so that her eyes captured his and the shoulder of her dress slipped down her arm, revealing the inviting curve of her breasts. “I want you to show me.”
“Becky… Rebecca…” His breath was uneven. She should tell she had an affect on him. “You don’t have to.”
“I know,” she said. “That’s why I want to.”
“Say it again…” That growl, like a wolf, heady and barely restrained.
“I want to… I want to feel a man inside me. I want to come and feel you come.” The words were shockingly easy to say. She could feel her body becoming hot and sensitive as she imagined it and saying it aloud felt powerful and bold and so, so liberating. “I want you to take hold of me and rut me like they do in the books I’ve read. I want -”
He was kissing her, and as he wrapped his arms around her, losing his hands in her hair, she felt the weight and power of him, the length of his body as they both pushed each other into a kneeling position on the bed. His hands suddenly felt much larger on her body, trying to reach her through her night dress. Then he met her lips again and there was only his ragged breath, the honey sound of his voice in sweet, high little hums that sent waves of heat racing through her. She began to undress him first, tearing his shirt off his shoulders and revealing the smooth plains of skin beneath. He growled and dipped his head to kiss her neck and she felt the hard, sharp graze of his teeth and shivered wonderfully.
Impetuously, she pushed him so that he landed on his back on the bed and ran her hands down his torso, learning the way his body tapered and shifted under her fingers. The second time she did it, his clothes came with her hands and she could see the expanse of his gently muscled body, the way his ribs swelled with every inhale, the tempting slope past his navel. The skin under her nails jumped as she found the hem of his trousers and pulled, wanting to see all of him. It was only when they were off that she paused to really look at him.
He was beautiful, all subtle curves and angles. He had laid his head back on the sheets and his hair had become loose and messy in their wrestling. Bright blue eyes and parted lips; she had to take a breath as she admired him, her frantic energy evaporated as she trailed her fingers up his thigh and along the curve of his shaft. Under her fingertips, the skin was like satin and she could feel the hot pulse of his hardness underneath, sensitive and electric. He sensed her pause and propped himself up on his elbows.
“What are you thinking, sweetling?” he said, and his voice felt like a kiss high on her neck.
Again, Becky had no trouble telling him what she wanted. “I want you to take the lead.”
A smile played about his lips and he reached out, taking her hand and bringing her down to the bed where he lay close beside her and began to undress her. Unlike her careless tugs and pulls, he unlaced her night dress leisurely, taking his time to trace the lines made by the fabric against the skin. Gooseflesh rose where he touched her and soon she was shivering, though it was perfectly warm in the room.
“You made me forget that this is your first time.” he told her, purring softly.
“I’m not sure if that’s supposed to matter,” she whispered.
“It does. Just not in the way that they tell you.”
He kissed her, long and sweet and lingering, drawing little murmurs from her lips as he parted her legs, stroking her inner thigh. She was entirely naked now, every sensation as sharp and clear as song. His fingers met the heat between her legs, following the curve of her labia. The touch alone told her that she was slick and swollen, and she trembled as he awoke a more persistent ache in her. Then she felt him dip beneath, pressing his fingertip against her clitoris. She whimpered and he kissed her deeper, drinking the sound of her voice; every gasp, every shuddering breath.
He began to draw circles around her clit, slowly at first, watching her face intently. When she shifted under his fingers, lifting her hips and curling her toes, his lips curled into a grin and he began to kiss her neck, his mouth never far from her ear.
“You take pleasure so well, sweetling…” he said, his voice only just touching the words. “You are so beautiful like this… that’s it. I’ve got you… you do this so well…”
Something about his words touched something deeper in her, slipping past Becky and speaking to Rebecca. She found his eyes in the half-light. Was he hypnotising her again?
“Have you had an orgasm before, my dear?”
She opened her mouth to speak, but it was getting harder and harder while he was sending waves of pleasure through her with his fingers. The ache was becoming more profound, every motion stirring ripples of sweet, urgent pleasure within her. “I… Yes… Yes…”
“My good girl…” he growled, as soft as a big cat.
Those words were definitely not meant for Becky.
“Deep breathes now…”
He was doing it again, trying to pull her deep and it was so difficult for her thoughts to come together in any form of resistance while he was touching her like that. She couldn’t help but take in deep breathes that came out as low moans. He was taking this pleasure, this thing that had always been her own secret, furtive joy, and making it new and bright and rich in his own hands. She wanted to give it over to him, thrilled by how he handled it with sure and easy confidence.
“The pleasure makes it easy to trance, doesn’t it…” he continued and she found her eyelids fluttering. “Don’t worry if it’s difficult to think… you don’t need to think right now. You just need to feel. You already know how it feels to let go. And the more you let go, the deeper you sink, the better it feels, no? Let your body do what it knows how to… the pleasure isn’t going to fade. You’re not going to sleep this time -”
Sleep. Even as he said it, her vision lost focus and she felt herself becoming strangely weightless. As he said, the pleasure only intensified, becoming yet clearer and all consuming. Coherent thoughts were far beyond her and it didn’t matter. It was easy.
“- you’re going to come to a beautiful orgasm just when I tell you…”
He was keeping her where he wanted, his fingers holding her on the edge of ecstasy, as if it were his body he was touching and could sense every shiver of heat that ran through her.
“Now Becky… lovely, vivacious Becky… She’s been such a pleasure. She’s taken the lead and shown you how to speak, how to ask and take and she does it so, so well.”
A sudden rise in the pleasure and she gasped, letting out a helpless, shuddering groan.
“And I know Rebecca’s been in there, watching, learning. So now, Becky’s going to give you one last gift. You’re going to come on my fingers, and when you do, I’ll be making love to Rebecca, but she won’t have forgotten how to feel pleasure and excitement. You’ll still have your voice and your desires and the will to ask and receive.”
His voice was growing softer, and she was sensing, rather than understanding, his meaning.
“When you are ready to come back to me, Rebecca, new and ready to feel pleasure, that’s when you’re going to come. If there is any uncertainty, then you will not take that jump. Only when you’ve united these two identities, when you realise there is no mask; then it will be easy as breathing…”
He had never stopped rubbing her clit. Her breath had become short and ragged. She knew without understanding that it was not Rowan that was holding her over the precipice but herself, hovering, lingering in the rising and falling tide of heat. For a moment, she was afraid that she’d be trapped there, and then;
*It’s easy, honey… Just say yes…*
It *was* easy. In fact, it was almost helpless. She groaned and arched her back, gripping the sheets in her fist as the delicious, perfect friction brought her to climax. She threw her head back and her eyes fuzzed over as every drop of tension left her in a series of powerful pulses that felt like burning. She let out a strangled cry, bucking against his hand, her thigh shaking as she struggled against the sheets. He let up and held her, soothing her and stroking her hair as she came down from it, breathing hard. It had been stronger than she had ever experienced, taking her by surprise, and now she buried her face in his chest, curling up against him while he continued to whisper to her.
“*That’s* it, sweetling. Yes, you did so well. Welcome back now…”
They stayed like that for a time; Rebecca with her face hidden, breathing in his scent. He lost no time in wrapping her shivering body in blankets, manoeuvring himself on top of her to add his own heat. When he kissed her this time, it brought her attention back to his body, and hers beneath him. He had placed himself between her legs, his member pressing, almost painfully hard, into the soft flesh of her inner thigh.
“I’m going to have you now…” he breathed in her ear and she drew in a sharp breath.
Even so, he didn’t take her immediately. He kissed her neck and ran his hands over her body, firm and strong, one hand on her buttocks to tilt her hips upward. She felt his hardness, thick and almost burning, slide against her labia, parting it, wetting itself on her. What sounded like a soft curse against her neck made her throb anew.
“Please…” she whimpered. “Please… I want to know… what it feels like…”
She could feel him smiling against her neck as he obliged. One more moment and he was hovering over her, the tip of his cock pressed against that little hollow, utterly sensitive and exposed. Her heart was racing, her breathing shallow. Gently, he pressed closer. Pressure; then with a gasp, she felt him push inside her. There was no pain; it was as effortless and pleasurable as sinking into a warm bath. Her whole body flared with arousal and heat. She squirmed beneath him, not to get away but to pull him closer, wanting to feel all of him inside her, her insides clenching and twitching around him.
Buried to the hilt, he sighed with pleasure, his breath hot against her neck. Then, with the practised grace of experience and instinct, he began to move; rolling his hips, pushing yet deeper until she whined and gasped. Each withdrawal left her aching to be filled again and he stayed as close to her as he could, his thrusts deep and slow, dragging against parts of her she had never felt before. A prickle, almost like a fever, crept up her arms and spine and soon she was moaning, deep guttural moans that he seemed to be stirring from her core. One arm around her shoulders, the other hand gripping her hip, he all but pinned her down as he took her again and again. His short, hard breaths; his soft, rumbling groans of pleasure reverberated through her.
They were joined like this for an immeasurable time; sometimes moving steady, swelling and retreating like an ocean, sometimes frantic and full of animal need. Those times were enough to make her hiss and growl, clinging hold of him and he took his pleasure in almost desperate bouts of speed. The world outside had long since lost its light, the fire low in the grate, leaving only their bodies in the darkness.
All at once, something changed. His movement became more driven, his breathing deeper, the pleasure in her spiking as his whole body became tense as a coiled spring. His voice in her ear again, low and deep and profoundly erotic.
“I’m going to come…”
Those words shot through her like a lightening bolt and she wrapped her legs around his, pinning him, locking him in while she turned her head to kiss him, his lips, his jaw.
“Yes…” she hissed. “Come in me, I want to feel it, I want…” She barely knew what she was saying, only that she wanted – *needed* – to feel every second of it.
A few seconds and his panting became a growl and then a cry. He thrust hard into her, pressing tight against the wall of her body. She felt him throbbing and twitching and shivered with delight, squeezing him in turn, his seed almost scalding inside her. He held on to her, letting out sharp gasps, grinding their hips together, rubbing against her insides, drawing every last drop of pleasure of of each of them.
When he was finally done, he was breathing hard and it was her turn to sooth him, to run her fingers through his hair and kiss his forehead. Reluctantly, he withdrew and they parted, only to find each other under the blankets and curl up together.
Minutes passed. Their breathing returned to normal. Rebecca felt herself dozing off before she heard his voice.
“One last thing, sweetling,” he told her, in that voice she was coming to learn meant that she had to pay attention. “Sleep undoes all spells. Tomorrow, you will wake up entirely yourself, calm and grounded, do you understand.”
She nodded, and then realised that he wouldn’t be able to see her in the dark. “Yes.”
“Then sleep well…” He kissed her forehead and she smiled like a child with a secret. “I’ll be here for you in the morning.”
Source: reddit.com/r/eroticliterature/comments/jfvezb/rebecca_becky_gentle_mdom_short_story_hypnosis