Taking the Lead(25)

       
         
       
        

It doesn't mean anything, I told myself. Chita's sexy as hell and you're feeling her sexy fire, that's all.

Plus you haven't been able to get off in a while so you're extra primed for it.

That thought didn't actually make me feel any better, though. Not when the source of my torment was wandering around nearby. Probably getting his dick sucked by some wife-swapping executive's spouse, I thought bitterly when I looked and saw he wasn't in the room.

In fact, where was he? He was one of the only ones who hadn't come to watch the Grant and Chita show.

Maybe it was time to finally take that walk around the playrooms, now while they seemed mostly quiet. I threw my shoulders back, took a deep breath, and marched down the hall.

The first door I came to was closed. Okay, fine. In the next one I could see a couple sitting on the floor, wrapped in a blanket like maybe they were cuddling afterward. Axel wasn't one of them, anyway.

The Inquisition Room was empty. So was the bedroom next to it, or so I thought at first. The door was open and I could see the cabinet on the far side of the room had been left open. I crossed the room to close it, then froze as I heard the door to the hall shut behind me.

* * *

"Ms. Hamilton," came Axel's voice.

I took another deep breath. "Axel."

"Why don't you call me Mr. Hawke for now? Since you seem determined to keep us on formal terms." He sounded slightly stung, but went on lightly. "You can have 'Axel' for a safeword."

I swallowed. "You mean that? If I call you Axel again right now you'll  …  let me go."

"Of course. That's how it works."

"And if I don't?"

"Then you get to find out what being flogged until you come is like."

Oh. That sounded like the best thing I could imagine right at that moment. The voice in my head that kept trying to tell me not to do this was being pretty well drowned out at that moment. Once again my resistance was melting away in the face of temptation. What could it hurt? Get off. Take advantage of the offer, of him. It didn't have to mean anything.

Yeah, Ricki, stop turning everything into a federal case. Just have some fun. After all, that's what this club is for.

"If it's too confusing to use my name like that, we can go back to the other way," he said, as if that might be the reason for my hesitation.

"N-no, it's fine." My voice quavered a little as I asked, "What do I have to do?"

"Nothing but exactly what I tell you."

Huh. That sounded so easy. I didn't have to be in charge. I didn't have to try to figure out what to say or how to act. I swallowed again before I said, "Yes, Mr. Hawke." When I said those words, it was like the light in the room changed. Or maybe it was me that changed. I felt like I had just slipped into a hot bath, all resistance gone. 

Axel let me soak in it for a minute. Or two. I started to get nervous, wondering what was going to happen next. Was I supposed to be doing something? I started to turn my head to look at him.

He made a warning noise. "Ah-ah. Didn't you play Simon Says as a kid? Mr. Hawke didn't say to do anything."

"I'm sorry, Mr. Hawke." It felt like the blush on my cheeks went all the way down my whole body! I was so embarrassed at having to be scolded, and yet all it did was rev up the excitement running through me even more.

I heard his footsteps as he crossed the thick carpet. "I like what you're wearing. You know what's excellent about skirts? They make your parts so accessible. Bend forward, please."

Somehow when he said "please" it made what he said sound even more like a command than if he hadn't. I locked my knees and put my hands on them as I bent over. He still hadn't touched me. I found myself starting to tremble in anticipation.

I felt the edge of my skirt move against my legs and then the fabric flip up, over my back. He must have been staring at my stocking-clad ass, then. I waited for him to run his hand over my flesh-or to smack it-but again, nothing.

I heard something go click. "Turn to your right. Take hold of the footboard of the bed."

I stayed bent over and gripped the smooth, rounded edge of the foot of the bed. It was mahogany, an antique, sturdy and fine.

It was a good thing I was holding it or I probably would have fallen over as the next thing I felt was my waistband pulling. The sound of fabric tearing sent my heart rate soaring. He was cutting away my stockings and panties with a knife-or his razor-sharp claws for all I knew.

And then, at last, a touch. A soft finger tracing the very edge of my exposed flesh. Okay, so he didn't have claws. I knew that. But my imagination wanted to run away with me.

His touch kept me there in the moment though, tracing one side of my labia, then the other. As minimal a touch as I could imagine. Then his fingers moved a little closer toward my throbbing center, the hot places I wanted him to touch.

But he didn't give me what I craved. Just a few quick brushes. "There," he said. "Just making sure your clit is exposed."

My knees began to shake. I don't think I'd ever had a guy talk to me about my clit before.

"Stay still." I heard him move away and the cabinet doors open.

"Not the rope," I heard myself say.

Axel chuckled as he came back. "Definitely not the rope."

I felt the soft trail of leather tails brush my ass. So that was why Grant had sighed. It did feel nice! Hah, nice. I bit my lip again. It wasn't probably going to stay nice, not if Axel worked up to hitting me as hard as Grant had Chita, but I reminded myself if it got to be too much, I could always tell him to stop.

He started to swing the flogger at a slow pace, lightly, and I found myself swaying my rear in time with the rhythm he set. He worked one cheek, then the other, back and forth, back and forth, until I lost track of time.

Hadn't Sakura said "hypno" was a thing? This was even more hypnotic than watching Grant get flogged had been.

But then Axel changed the rhythm-quicker, hitting one side only, and moving the target gradually across my butt and down my thigh, then up the other thigh  …

And then catching my exposed clit with the tips of the tails. I sucked in a breath and tried to spread my legs a little wider, trying to catch more sensation.



       
         
       
        

He saw it and upped the ante, hitting both harder and more directly on that spot, which stung a little but oh! More! I wanted more!

I thrust my butt back, trying for more exposure, maybe more friction, but each swat of the tails was such a momentary stimulation. Could I come this way? Would he make me? It was like drinking from an eyedropper.

I had a sudden memory of touching myself when I'd first learned to do it. I'd heard the expression "touching yourself" and I had taken that literally, pressing my clit like a button, over and over, until I had come. That first orgasm had been such a surprise, such a pleasure and a delight-I'd had no idea my body could do that. I'd agonized over the discovery, though. Every message I had heard about masturbation up until then was that it was a shameful thing.

That was before I was old enough to know my family had a secret sex dungeon in the basement. Well, I'd gotten over my shame about masturbation eventually.

I supposed I'd get over my hang-ups about the family dungeon, too. Especially if it always felt this good  …

Or this bad, depending on how you looked at it. I was on the edge of coming, where I'd been so many times recently, and unable to finish off. What if there was something wrong with me? I suddenly worried. What if it was a rare medical condition or a brain chemical thing? Axel-Mr. Hawke-had said he'd flog me until I came. What if I never came? Would it go on forever? Would he be disappointed if I didn't come?

"I can't!" I found myself panting. "I can't, I can't!"

"Yes, you can," came his voice, firm and close. He didn't sound out of breath. "There's no hurry, Ms. Hamilton. Remember, I'm in charge."

The flogging stopped and I heard the flogger hit the bed. Then his hand, at last-at last!-rubbing up and down my thighs, circling over my sore cheeks and soothing them, and then sliding up and down my very wet pussy, one knuckle rubbing over my clit again and again. I ground back against him and he held his finger in place for me to rub against. I moaned like a hungry animal.

But it still wasn't enough. "I  …  can't," I whispered.

I felt his other hand on my back. "You're so tense."

Of course I am! I wanted to scream. But I didn't. I could barely rasp, "Yes, Mr. Hawke."

"Put your hands behind your back, Ms. Hamilton."

I did as he asked. I felt him grip me by the hair with one hand, the other around my wrists, and he moved me to the side of the bed, pressing me facedown over the edge. Being held so firmly by Axel didn't feel "rough" at all-it was strangely comforting. I remembered what he'd said in the bathroom that time with the razor: I trusted him. Even when my mind was in a whirl of denials it was like my body already knew him, already knew what it wanted. Already knew to whom it belonged. 

My toes touched the floor as my cheek pressed against the silky duvet. So that was why these four-poster beds were so high off the floor, I thought. That put a person like me at the perfect height for fucking  …