Chapter 7
AXL
“Hello,” she replied timidly.
“What’s a nice girl like you doing in a place like this?”
She stared at me, confused, as well she should be.
“Who are you?”
The better question was who was she?
“I’m Axl. Are you hurt?”
She curled up into a tighter ball, as though her nakedness was making her shy. Cute.
“A-Axl?”
She’d given him open slather on her body. When had Grayson ever had a date who agreed to his plethora of kinks without weeks of negotiations and lesser play?
“Unfortunately for me, my father was a metalhead.” The small lie made me feel happier. I tried to give her a reassuring smile, which was difficult to summon considering she was at my mercy. “They almost called me Lemmy. I’m not sure I’m better off.”
She gave me a shaky smile. “Mr. Scott sent you to check on me?”
I turned the spare key in the cage lock.
She crawled out as though I were trustworthy, and I helped her to her feet.
Once upon a time I’d been taught good manners.
She definitely had a body worth kidnapping, and that face of hers—nice.
Very nice. She was much more beautiful than Grayson’s usual type.
The man could get almost any woman he wanted, but he tended to avoid women this perfect.
Why a girl like this would choose to get mixed up in this risky game I couldn’t guess. The whys and wherefores were her concern, until men took advantage. Dangerous stuff, with looks like hers.
She was worth auctioning off to a rich deviant with a private island. This girl wouldn’t have been out of place on a red carpet or at a charity ball. Instead, she was shaking with need and covered in little indentations from the carpeting in the cage.
“Turn for me.”
Confused, she obeyed, moving like a shy co-ed rather than a well-trained sex slave.
“Bend over.”
After the smallest hesitation, she obeyed that also, letting me see what I needed to. How to give a man an instant hard-on. The glistening and faint redness around her hole explained why she was agitated. He’d had his finger in there, painting her with something.
What a sweet fucking ass, and not a tattoo in sight. It made me want to put some marks on her next to the pretty welts and bruises Grayson had left.
“I—the marks were consensual,” she explained, as though I might not be familiar with kink.
“You consented to letting him beat you that hard with a belt?”
She blushed a bright red. “It’s not a real kidnapping. I arranged this through a friend.” She draped an arm over her breasts, as though there was a chance I’d never seen tits before. Nice of her to care about my poor virgin eyes.
“Not real?”
“No. It’s consensual nonconsent. Do you know what that is?”
I nodded.
After what had happened the last time, Grayson had vowed never to play CNC games again. He’d mused about doing a real kidnapping a few times since, but I’d assumed it was only a daydream.
Couldn’t be, could it? Full permission or a real kidnapping? Would he lie to me? He might.
I ran my tongue behind my top teeth, thinking…hoping.
“Let’s be honest—is this CNC or did he really kidnap you?”
She gave a weak laugh. “He keeps saying he really kidnapped me, but it’s all part of the game. I mean, what are the chances I’d get kidnapped the night I’d arranged for a CNC kidnapping?”
“Did he give you a safeword?”
“I didn’t want one.”
The beast in me sat up and sniffed the air.
“That’s a stupid game to play with a sadist.”
“If he really did kidnap me, having a safeword wouldn’t matter, would it?”
“So this is Schrodinger’s kidnapping. If you don’t know whether you were legitimately kidnapped or not, you don’t need to be terrified.”
“Oh, I’m pretty terrified most of the time,” she murmured. “He’s unpredictable.”
“Aren’t you going to ask me to save you?”
“Why would he send you here to check on me if he thought you’d save me?”
“Maybe he didn’t send me here. Maybe I just knew you were here all alone, and I like playing with Mr. Scott’s property.”
“Play with?” She swallowed, and that little nervous throat movement made my dick harder than it already was. “I thought you were just here to check on me for him.”
“What’s his is mine, and what’s mine is his.”
She shook her head and backed toward the bed until she bumped against it.
“I’ll get back in my cage. I think you should leave.” She crouched down, but had to turn her back to get in. Silly girl.
I grabbed her hair, wound it over my fist as I gently pulled her upright, ignoring her mouselike squeaks. “Not yet. I didn’t say you could leave.”
This was assault…but only that. So far. Besides, if he had permission, he wouldn’t begrudge me this one.
This was so fucking tempting. What if I were wrong about her? Getting a new accusation of assault would be a problem. My last arrest might still be on record.
Passing up this opportunity would also be a crime.
“Hey!” She struggled, put her hand up to pluck at mine but nothing too vigorous. As if she too wasn’t sure of what this was.
I shook her head, still gentle, brought her back to me, my mouth to her ear, my other hand curling about her neck. That little throat movement beneath my fingers…I barely stopped myself from biting her.
Gently, gently. Suggest and if she takes the bait, I had permission. At the first no I would stop.
“We always do this. Me and him, we share. You wanted CNC. No asking required.”
I rocked my hips from side to side, swaying into her.
Silence, apart from the shallow, rapid breathing of a girl on the edge. Logically, she must love this. No yes from her, yet, but also not a no. Not that a yes was likely considering how CNC worked.
“You’re ours. And you look so fucking tasty.”
This time I did bite. I put my mouth to the side of her neck, screwed my fingers into her hair until her scalp would be on fire, and I sank my teeth in, listening for that denial.
I wanted to hear it for my shredded, neglected conscience, and theoretically for my lawyer. Then again, I also wanted to stuff a sock in her mouth and fuck her into the floor.
Nothing came from her, apart from whimpers and the desperate worming about of her lower body as I marched more bites down to her shoulder.
Last chance, girl.
She finally remembered to claw at my hand where I held her throat.
I trapped hers against her neck. “Such a tiny wrist. You think you can stop me?” I bit her there too, licked down her arm, then growled and nibbled on her jaw.
Her shuddering sigh seemed a mix of latent ecstasy, pain, and submission, then she tilted her neck, opening herself to me, clearly expecting more bites.
To fuck with that.
I had what I needed.
A leash lay on the set of drawers. I flipped her onto her back on the bed and clipped it to her collar then held her down.
I shoved apart her legs and stepped between them, noting the glistening along the seam of her labia.
The plumpness of her breasts lured me. I wrapped my fist around one and squeezed until she writhed, gasping at the pain.
“I love abusing such pretty tits.” I squeezed harder, smiling. “It’s on my to-do list.”
I knew where Grayson kept everything.
With my fingernail, I traced a cruel line across her ribcage, while I watched her. A crease appeared between her eyes. She showed her teeth and whined.
The sounds this one made. I should record them for posterity and my dick.
“Stop. Wait.” Futilely, she pulled at where I crushed her flesh. “You can’t do that.”
“No?” I leaned in and captured both her hands, then pinned them to the quilt. Although she’d be dampening the front of my pants, I pressed my erection into her, ground myself around.
Little did she know she was doomed to be covered in come from the moment her sweet mouth quivered. Keeping my pants clean came a distant second to making this one shrink from me as far as the bed allowed. She let out a soft, reluctant moan.
“Poor little thing. We can do almost anything to you, and if he really has kidnapped you…we can do everything.” I caged her with my arms. “And right now, I’m imagining putting clamps and honey on your pussy, and staking you out on the lawn, spreadeagled, for the ants to eat out.”
Her eyes widened, and her voice shook. “You’re weird as fuck.”
“Lucky for you, I’m feeling kind.”
I marched her from the room by her hair, letting her stumble but keeping her on her feet. We went down the stairs to Grayson’s perfect kitchen. The man was a little anal about cleanliness in here.
I dragged a stool to the kitchen island and wedged it against the edge. “Sit.” Taking care not to make it too taut, I tied the leash to the faucet behind her.
While she fingered the collar and pouted, I found what I wanted.
From a drawer, I took the roll of plastic clingwrap and a heavy red spatula, then I looked to her, gauging where to wrap first. Those curves slew me.
Breasts large enough to feel them resist when I slapped them, hips I could anchor fingers into, leave bruises on, and a face like a virgin siren—if there was such a creature.
Her fair hair swayed in corkscrew tangles over her face.
Bruises on her thighs and ass, a reddened face, as if shy about kink, and a body to lick, bite, or anything else I felt like doing to it. She was the perfect montage.
Whatever Grayson had stuck into her rear was making her flushed, and she twisted on the stool. She was a beautiful mess that I aimed to make filthy. Filthier.
I tapped the spatula on my palm. It had a nice weight to it.
“A naked girl with no limits. Where to begin?”
“Nowhere?”
I slapped the spatula onto her nipple, twice. She yelped and clutched it, covering my target.
“Quiet. Master is thinking.”
Her raspberry was unexpected. “Looks painful.”
I chuckled. “Thank you. I needed the incentive.” I smacked her again, on the other side.
Sullen, face darkening, she hugged her tits, as if she could stop me from hitting her there again.
When Grayson returned, he’d demand I give her back, so I would have to work fast.
I’d return his toy dirty and slightly damaged. It was the least I could do. The chainsaw he’d borrowed last summer had ended up in the repair shop for a month.