~ Klaus ~
I’ve been watching her for months now, waiting for the exact moment she’d fall neatly into my hands.
People whisper that I’m a psychopath. But they don’t understand me.
I go after what I want, and I don’t apologize for it.
Call it obsession if it makes you sleep better, but it is what it is…
Alexa.
My little mouse.
The treasure I’ve stalked for months, circling her like a patient predator hunting for the single key that would open her. And now I finally have her laid out in front of me.
Her sounds hit me with a force I didn’t anticipate, burning their way under my skin.
I draw in air to steady the need clawing at me.
I’m a cop… at least on paper. My jerk of a father made sure of that. He said it would “help me act right” and “show me what happens to the bad guys.”
But what it really did was show me how little the rules matter when you can bend them and never get caught.
The air in my torture room has that cold, sanitized smell that always sharpens my focus.
I bring the strike down again on her ass and the noise she gives me is instant.
Every sound echoes a little in here, even the soft scrape of my boots against the floor.
My hand hovers for a moment, frozen in the air. Her body is tightened in anticipation. Only when she exhales did I let the next hit land.
I breathe in slowly, letting the satisfaction settle deep. I need control right now. If I don’t take a breath, I’ll lose it.
I touch her with my bare hand, tracing the line of her spine and feeling every small shiver she tries and fails to hide.
Her skin warms under my palm and I squeeze her gently at first, then harder, testing her reactions.
She gasps my name.
“Klaus…”
The sound of it wrecks something in my chest in a way I don’t want to examine.
For a moment, everything in me goes still.
She really shouldn’t be able to do that with a single word.
I remember the last time we hauled her into holding for stealing her colleague’s vibrator and some cash.
Who the fuck steals a vibrator from their friend?
Alexa, apparently.
She’d stood in that tiny cell with those wide eyes, pretending she had no idea what anyone was talking about. She lied like a sinner at confession… chin up, pulse racing, practically begging to be challenged.
Then she’d shrugged at me and said something about “borrowing with intention to return,” like she was doing me a favor by explaining it.
I almost gave in right there. Nearly took what she was offering without admitting she was offering anything at all.
But I let her go with a warning.
It was a test.
I wanted to see if she’d run back to trouble like a moth to heat.
And of course she did.
This time the complaint was worse.
Dealing.
Good thing I was on patrol tonight and closest to the club when the call came in.
That kind of accusation would chew her up in seconds if she weren’t lying in front of me now. And maybe she deserves the fear that comes with it.
Maybe she needs it to understand me fully. To understand what happens when she keeps tugging at danger like it’s a game.
I’ve been hovering around her strip club ever since our first run-in, the moment I cuffed her hands and felt something I shouldn’t want.
Alexa dances and dresses like she gives herself to anyone who wants her. I hate the thought. And yet I can’t stop wanting her… all of her, only mine.
Innocence clings to her still, a contradiction that shouldn’t exist. But it does. It makes me want to strip her down until I see the real her.
She’d make the perfect submissive. I’ve known that since that first night.
Everything I prepared for tonight is already sanitized, laid out and arranged exactly how I want them.
I wash my hands anyway. The ritual brings me back to myself, sharpening what I intend to do next.
I honestly didn’t expect her to fold this easily. I thought she’d claw at me a little first, but she isn’t fighting at all.
Proof that she wants this.
She wants me.
“Klaus?” she murmurs, shifting a little, her body instinctively chasing the contact I’ve paused.
A smile tugs at my lips. “Don’t be a naughty girl, Alexa. If you disobey me, you already know what happens.”
Her mouth twitches, like she’s fighting the urge to say something reckless.
“I shouldn’t speak?” she asks, a bold edge in her voice.
I chuckle under my breath. “You want to be punished,” I say, letting my voice drop.
“Yes.” She gasps, her whole body giving a quick, startled jolt.
Interesting.
I move back to her, close enough to feel the heat pouring off her skin. Even with her bold act, the slightest touch makes her flinch and the moan that slips out hits that dangerous line between fear and hunger.
“I’m taking your panties off now,” I tell her, brushing a hand down her thighs. “And you’re going to be a good girl and take whatever I give you. You hear me?”
She nods fast, a little too eager.
“Use your words, Alexa.”
“Yes. I understand.” Her voice shakes.
Even blindfolded, she gives herself away.
“Good girl.”
The phrase hits exactly how it always does, loosening her spine and stealing her breath. It never fails. That word always finds the hidden switch inside my submissives.
I slip my fingers under the thin band at her hips and pull her panties down slowly, letting the suspense build. She catches her breath.
I position her legs, spreading them wider on the cold leather of the bench and my fingers close tightly around the silver hook.
Reaching for the shelf, I retrieve the lubricant, pouring a generous, warm bead directly onto her pussy. Then I use the tip of the cool vagina hook to spread it across her slowly.
A raw sound rips from her throat. She strains against the restraints, her whole body reacting at once.
“Oh God…” she gasps, her voice thick.
“You won’t breathe another name here, Alexa,” I growl, the command a low rasp in the quiet room. “Only mine. You will say Klaus or Daddy. Is that clear?”
“Mm. Yes,” she whispers, the submission immediate and fragile.
Perfect.
“Now,” I command, my voice dropping to a dangerous level. “Raise your ass off the bench.”
She lifts her hips without hesitation, the bench holding her perfectly in place as every inch of her responds to me.
Good. I don’t want passive obedience; I want reactive need.
The hook is my instrument now, a perfect guide for the white-hot heat pouring off her skin. I press the curved, thick tip just inside her slick, wet entrance… not penetrating yet, just brushing the sensitive flesh.
Her breath hitches sharply. Every brush of the cool metal draws a tremor from deep inside her.
I drag the metal slowly across her dripping clean shaved pussy, letting the tip tease her tight asshole.
Each stroke is sharp, electric, merciless. She’s swollen, desperate, and quivering. Every brush pushes her closer to screaming and begging like the filthy little thing she is.
"See how ready you are, Alexa?" I murmur, leaning close so she feels my breath against her ear. "You're dripping from the slightest touch. A whore for the metal."
Her hips tilt a little to meet the pressure and I immediately drop my hand onto her thigh, pinning her.
"Hold that position. No movement unless I command it. This is not for you to decide," I remind her, my voice dropping back to a growl. "Tell me what you want me to do with this, little slut. Use my name."
“Klaus… please…” she manages, the word shredded.
I pull the hook back, robbing her of the sensation, and I watch the immediate, desperate slump of her body.
“Tell me.”
“I… I don’t want you to stop, Klaus.”