15. Axel
15
AXEL
T he chains rattle as Martinez makes a show of securing them when he loosens the cuffs. He’s a good little puppet, doing exactly what he’s told for the right price. The security camera feed will also be replaced today, meaning no evidence.
My demons mutter their approval—they like it when people obey.
“All set.” Martinez nods to my sweet, innocent Willow, standing there in her pencil skirt and white blouse, clutching her notepad like a shield. “Call if you need anything.” Something else I’ve handled. Martinez isn’t going to respond to her first two panic presses, as he has my word I won’t physically harm her.
The door clicks shut. We’re alone now. Just me and my pretty doctor, who has no idea the chains around my wrists might as well be paper.
Show her what real control feels like.
Make her scream.
Break her.
I push back against them. Not yet. This requires finesse.
“Good morning, Dr. Matthews.” I keep my voice soft, watching her settle into her chair across from me. I see how her chest rises and falls a bit too fast. The flush in her cheeks as she opens my file.
“How are you feeling today, Axel?”
I feel like ripping your clothes off and feasting on your perfect tits.
I smile, letting my arms rest loose in the restraints. “Better now that I’m with you. I had the most interesting dream about you last night.”
Color floods her cheeks. She shifts in her chair, and I catch the slight press of her thighs together.
“We should focus on your progress, not your dreams.”
“But doctor...” I lean forward. “Aren’t dreams important for understanding the psyche? Isn’t that what you’re here for? To understand me?”
She hasn’t noticed that I could stand up any time I wanted, cross this room in three steps, and show her exactly what’s been haunting her dreams and mine.
Take her.
Make her yours.
Soon, voices. Soon.
Her tongue darts out to lick her lips. Such a telling gesture. “You’re right. Dreams can be... illuminating. Tell me about yours, Axel.”
Show her.
Tell her everything.
“It starts with you wearing that exact outfit.” I drag my gaze down her body, savoring how she squirms. “But your hair’s down, falling over your shoulders. Like now, you’re sitting right there pretending to be so proper.”
Her pen hovers over the notepad. “And then?”
“Then I will show you what happens when you try to analyze a monster.” The chains clink as I shift forward. “I stand up, and you don’t run. You want to—your heart’s racing, pupils dilated like they are right now—but you stay put. Because deep down, you’re aching to see what I’ll do.”
She swallows hard. “Keep your dialogue appropriate, please, Axel…”
“Appropriate?” I can’t help but laugh. “Nothing about what I want to do to you is appropriate.” I lean back, stretching out my arms as much as the chains allow, and grin at her. “In this dream, I walk around the table, nice and slow. You’re frozen in place, watching me. Waiting.”
Her mouth opens slightly, and she presses her lips together to stop herself from speaking. Good.
“Then I stand right behind you, close enough that you can feel my breath on your neck. I whisper, asking you if you’ve ever been with a real man. A man who knows how to make a woman beg.”
Willow shifts, her cheeks flushed, but she doesn’t stop me.
“You don’t answer, so I take that as a no. I tell you not to worry that I’m going to educate you. And then...” I pause. “Then I pull your hair, just hard enough to make you gasp. I want to see your pretty throat exposed.”
Her breath quickens. She’s imagining it, picturing herself in that moment.
“I trail my lips down your neck, tasting your skin, and then... I bite you. It’s not hard enough to break the skin but enough to leave a mark—a signature that lingers on your flesh.”
A myriad of expressions play across her face: shock, the faintest flash of apprehension, and the desire lurking beneath. “You struggle against my hold, but my grasp on your hair only strengthens. I murmur that escape isn’t an option. That you exist now for my satisfaction alone.”
The pen falls from her hand, clattering to the floor, but she doesn’t move to pick it up.
“And then, doctor…” I lower my voice conspiratorially. “I do things to you that make you scream. I make you come apart at the seams. Over and over. Until you’re nothing but a quivering fucking disaster, begging me for more.”
Her stunning blue eyes are wide and fixed on me. She’s seeing and feeling everything in her mind.
“I make you mine, body and soul. And when I finally let you go, you’re changed forever. Marked by me.”
I sit back, satisfied. Willow is speechless, her chest heaving.
I smile, baring my teeth. “So, doctor, you want to hear the rest?”
She’s trying to regain control, maintaining that clinical mask she wears so well. But I see the rapid pulse in her throat and the flush creeping up her neck.
“This fixation on authority figures, Axel...” She clears her throat. “It’s a common pattern among inmates. You’re trying to assert dominance to avoid addressing your need for treatment.”
I almost laugh at her attempt to psychoanalyze me. She is such a good little doctor, desperately clinging to her training.
“You’re deflecting,” she continues, gaining confidence. “The dream represents your urge to?—”
“If you don’t want to hear the rest...” I rise from my chair in one fluid motion, the loose chains falling away. “I’ll show you instead.”
Her eyes widen, her mouth falling open as she realizes I’m free. The color drains from her face. Her hand shoots toward the panic button on her desk, but she doesn’t press it.
“What if someone finds out?” she gasps, eyes darting to the camera in the corner. “The security footage?—”
“Handled,” I say with casual confidence. “The cameras are on a loop. Martinez is making sure no one checks the feeds. No one will ever know what happens in this room unless you tell them.” My smile widens. “And something tells me you won’t.”
Her hand continues toward the panic button, but I’m faster.
I grab her wrist, yanking it away from the button. Her skin is so soft under my fingers, just like I imagined. The chorus of destructive thoughts sings with approval as she struggles against my grip.
Finally.
Take what’s yours.
Show her who’s in control.
I grip her delicate wrists in one hand, her struggles as feeble as a butterfly against a storm. She’s so tiny compared to me, her bones like porcelain under my calloused fingers.
“Look who’s not in control now, little doctor.” I stand directly in front of her chair and grab her chin, forcing her to meet my gaze. “No more hiding behind that notebook, no more pretending you’re above all this.”
Her pulse races beneath my grip. Such a fragile thing, thinking she could walk into a monster’s den and remain untouched.
“You really thought those chains could hold me?” I lean closer, drinking in the fear in those blue eyes. “That’s the problem with people like you—you believe in the system, rules, and restraints, but rules are for the weak.”
I tilt her chin up higher, making her crane her neck. “Tell me, what’s your opinion now? Still want to analyze my patterns ?”
She tries to turn away, but I hold her firm. “No, no, we’ll have none of that. Look at me when I’m speaking to you. That’s what you wanted, right? My undivided attention? Well, now you have it.”
Tears gather in her eyes. Such a pretty sight.
“P-please,” she manages.
“Please, what?” I bare my teeth in a grin. “Please stop? Please let you go? Or please don’t stop? Be specific, doctor. Isn’t that what you’re always telling your patients?”
A tear spills down her cheek.
I catch it with my thumb, a mockery of tenderness. “You wanted to understand the monster. Congratulations—you’re getting a fucking front-row seat.”
I study her reactions carefully, noting how her thighs press together beneath that proper pencil skirt—such telling body language from my little doctor. I focus on how her pupils have dilated despite her fear—or perhaps because of it.
“Tell me, little doctor,” I keep my grip firm on her wrists, leaning close enough to catch the faint scent of her perfume. “Are you familiar with autassassinophilia?”
Her eyes widen.
“The clinical term for being aroused by the risk of death.” I trace my thumb along the racing pulse in her throat. “Fascinating condition, isn’t it? The ultimate surrender of control.”
Color floods her cheeks. “Stop this, Axel.”
I tilt my head, studying her. “Your pulse is racing, but not just from fear. Those pretty thighs keep clenching, and your breathing...” I lean closer, my lips nearly brushing her ear. “That’s not panic, is it?”
She shivers, and it’s not from being cold. No, my perfect doctor is fighting a very different battle right now.
“The great Dr. Matthews,” I murmur against her skin, “turned on by being at the mercy of a psychopath. What would your colleagues say?”
Her attempt at a response comes out as a shaky exhale. I can feel her resolve crumble, and she starts leaning into my grip instead of away.
“Your body knows what you really want,” I tell her, drinking in her conflicted expression.
I savor her distress, her conflicting emotions displayed on that delicate face. She’s ashamed to want this, but she does.
My sweet, innocent little doctor, so desperate to keep up appearances. I will tear them all down, peel away the layers until she’s mine, inside and out.
Her chest rises and falls rapidly beneath her tight blouse. Her legs part slightly, an involuntary invitation.
Oh, I’ve got so many plans for you. I let go of her wrist, relishing the flash of panic in her eyes. Before she can move, I reach into her desk drawer and pull out the rope I’d bribed the janitor to smuggle into her office.
“Hands in front of you.” I keep my voice calm and collected.
She makes a small noise of protest but does as I say. I loop the rope around her delicate wrists, binding them together with quick, expert moves. She’s good and secure.
I stand back, taking in the sight of her bound and at my mercy. Fuck, she’s beautiful like this.
“That’s it. Stay right there.” I take my time, walking around her, enjoying how she squirms under my gaze. “You know, sometimes, the fantasy is better than the reality.” I brush her hair away from her neck, my fingers trailing along her skin. “But in this case...”
My fingers find the hem of her skirt, and I slowly push it up, inch by inch. “I think reality might be better.”
I step between her thighs, enjoying how she has to crane her neck to see my face. I let the tip of my finger trail along the thin fabric of her panties, watching her hips buck at the contact.
“Such a pretty little cunt.” I can feel the heat radiating from her. “All mine now.”
With one swift move, I tear her panties apart, exposing her pussy to my hungry gaze. Her soaked core glistens, and the scent of her arousal fills the air.
I kneel before her chair, lifting her legs and settling them on my shoulders. She’s so soft, so perfectly fuckable. My tongue finds her clit, and I swirl it slowly, taking my time to taste her. Her hips jerk, and she whimpers. Perfect.
“Axel,” she breathes my name.
I tongue-fuck her like it’s my last fucking meal on this earth, savoring her unique flavor.
“God damn, this cunt tastes so fucking sweet,” I groan against her before continuing to devour her. She tastes even better than I imagined, and I groan with the effort of holding back from impaling her on my cock.
Her juices drip down my chin as I feast on her, sucking and licking until she’s sobbing my name.
Her thighs clamp around my head.
I can feel her edging closer, and I slow my pace, earning a whimper of protest. She’ll come when I decide she’s earned it.
Her face is a beautiful mess, her lips swollen from biting them to keep quiet, and lipstick smeared by those efforts.
I lift my face from her core, and she keens with protest. I love how she sounds ruined, and we’re just starting.
I stand, my pants feeling tighter than ever. She’s so fucking wet, and me devouring her has only made her more so. She bites her lip, eyes flitting to the bulge at my crotch. I slowly caress myself through my pants, loving how she tracks my every move.
“Please...” she murmurs, the shame in her eyes only fueling my voracious depravity to consume her.
“Don’t worry, I’m gonna give you exactly what you need.” I stroke myself slowly. “Just need to get something first.”
I walk over to her drawer, knowing she’s looking at my ass. I open the drawer, rummaging through her things until I find what I’m after. When I turn back, she desperately tries to free herself from the ropes, but it’s useless. I walk back, keeping eye contact, and pull out the recording.
Her eyes go wide, and she squirms harder. “No, please—don’t?—”
I press play, and my deep, gritty voice fills the room.
“Tell me, Dr. Matthews, are you familiar with autassassinophilia?”
She shuts her eyes when she hears the little gasp she makes on the tape.
I unbutton my pants, freeing my painfully hard cock. She watches, transfixed, as I stroke myself. Taking a page from her book, I press play again, listening to her desperate moans as I eat her cunt.
“Fuck, you like listening to that, don’t you?” I step closer, lining my cock up with her entrance but not entering. Not yet. “Like hearing yourself get all worked up while a violent prisoner eats you out.”
Her eyes flick open, blue and bright with shame but also need. She wants this so fucking bad. I move my hips, rubbing my tip along her slick folds, teasing.
I press play again.
“God damn, this cunt tastes so fucking sweet.”
Her back arches, trying to press against me.
“That’s right, baby, you’re gonna surrender. You’ll come harder than you ever have, just for me.”
With a smooth thrust, I sink into her, our eyes locked. “Oh, fuck.” I clench my jaw at how tight and wet she is, her cunt enveloping me. She’s incredible, and I haven’t even started moving yet.
I pull out slowly, savoring the sight of her watching me slide free, her lips parted. I thrust back in, reveling in her gasp. “You like that, doctor?”
She whimpers.
“Tell me how much you like it, and maybe I’ll keep going.”
Her voice is hoarse, eyes glued to where we’re connected. “Yes, please, Axel. I... I like it.”
I grin. “Good girl.”
I start a slow, deliberate rhythm, pulling almost all the way out before sinking back in, our skin slapping together.
The recording plays in the background, our harsh breathing and my filthy words filling the room as I fuck her. And damn if I haven’t gone to heaven. I suddenly notice how quiet my head has gotten. My head is silent, and all I’m aware of is this pretty little pixie squeezing my dick with her cunt like a goddamn vise.