1
Axel
The woman who is kneeling before me pants heavily, large breasts heaving as she attempts to catch her breath. Pink welts criss-cross her arms, and if I were to walk around to her back, I’d see the trail of them down her bare skin, culminating on the still-red cheeks of her glorious ass. Her hands are bound at the wrists and tied to a chain dangling from the ceiling so that they’re above her head. Her ankles are secured to bolts in the floor, keeping her legs spread.
I reach forward and grab a handful of her luscious, blond hair, wrapping it in my fingers and using it as leverage to force her to look at me. “Well?”
Her eyes are glazed, and her pupils are still dilated from the intensity of play. But she never released the small bouncy ball held in one hand, so I know she wasn’t so far into subspace as to become incapable of play.
“Thank you, sir,” she rasps, voice still throaty from the number of times I made her swallow my cock.
I tug on her hair until she gasps, one final moan escaping her lips.
“I should leave you here,” I taunt. “Just like this. Tied up, well-fucked, and ready for somebody else to use.”
“Yes, sir,” she agrees.
I study her for a moment. She’s one of my usual submissives, and though she would follow my commands, I’ve learned the subtle signs of her exhaustion. I can see she’s had enough for the night. I release my grip on her hair, reach up, and remove the cuffs.
She slumps as I move to uncuff her ankles, rubbing her wrists.
“You okay?” I ask, noticing the movement.
She smiles at me. “Just getting the circulation back.”
I nod, finish with the cuffs, and help her to a chair. She winces as she sits, but the smile is still on her face.
I grab another fistful of her hair and angle her face just slightly towards me. “Did you enjoy yourself?”
“Always,” she purrs, the glazed look of a submissive in subspace nearly gone.
I smile. “You’re so good for me.”
“Of course,” she murmurs. “Disobedience is punished.”
“That it is,” I reply, releasing her hair. I walk over to where a scarlet latex dress is pooled on the floor. I pick it up, drape it over my arm, and carry it back to her. “Do you need a hand?”
“Can you zip me up?”
“Of course.”
My cock twitches as I watch her shimmy back into the dress, remembering how good it felt to peel it off her not long ago. It’s so tight that it has to be putting uncomfortable pressure on the marks from the whip, but she doesn’t complain. Then she turns her back to me and moves her hair out of the way, and I watch those marks disappear behind the latex as I zip it up. Finally, she uses me for leverage as she steps into her stiletto heels.
She turns to me, a coy smile on her face as she walks her fingers up my bare chest. “Will I see you again soon?”
I smirk. “As if anything could keep me away.”
“Good,” she purrs. “I’m looking forward to it.”
With that, she turns and strides from the private room, purposefully adding a bit of extra sway to her step.
The door clicks shut, and I briefly contemplate getting something to drink and staying around long enough to find another plaything. I’ve had enough for now, though, and I quickly tuck my cock back into my boxers, grab my shirt from where I’d discarded it, and pull it over my head.
I exit the private room into the main hallway of the sex club and find it blissfully empty. I can hear the activity all around, though, and as I pass open doorways, I get glimpses of all the patrons still playing or observing.
There are several groups touching and making out in the get-to-know-you room, curled together on the couches and hanging bed. Many of them turn to see if I plan to introduce myself, but I continue on with a polite nod and finally arrive in the bar at the entrance to the club. I make my way over, order a soda, and pull out my cell phone.
A few minutes later, I’ve ordered a ride and am nursing my drink while waiting for it to arrive. The sweetness of the soda doesn’t mesh with my mood, but it feels good on my throat.
At least something feels good tonight, I think.
My phone chimes with the notification that the car is there. I slam back the rest of my soda and head out into the cool night air. I confirm my ride with the app, and soon I’m on my way home.
City lights flash by the windows, and my mind wanders. I’d been excited to go to the club, and even more so when I arrived and saw the distinctive scarlet latex dress. But I was no more satisfied now than I was when I’d entered the private room.
The car pulls up in front of my house, and I thank the driver before heading inside.
My footsteps echo as I walk through the living room into the kitchen, the sound bouncing around the vaulted ceiling. I have a bit more furniture than my twin brother, Maddox, but my house still shows the telltale signs of having a bachelor as its inhabitant.
I grab an energy drink and am about to open it when I decide against it. I’d had a long day, and that was before I’d gone to the club. An energy drink would leave me wired and erase any possibility of sleep. Not that rest was a likely possibility for me that night, anyway.
I put the drink back in the fridge, grab a bottle of water instead, and head to the living room.
I sink onto the couch and open the bottle. I’m exhausted, but I know I won’t be able to rest. The water feels good against the back of my throat, but a part of me wishes it was alcohol. It would both take the edge off and help me sleep.
Maybe I should go back to the club, see if another of my favorite submissives is around. Perhaps I was in the mood for somebody else and hadn’t realized it. The thought has barely crossed my mind before I discard it. I don’t need another woman on her knees for an extended play session, nor a quick fuck. I don’t have the energy for either.
I take another deep drink of water and again wish it was alcohol. But that’s a dangerous road, and I refuse to go down it again. I know that the way is paved with lies and heartache. No, I’ll continue to volunteer to be the designated driver when I go out with friends. I’ll order non-alcoholic variants of drinks. I can’t succumb to those desires again, no matter how much I want to.
Another drink of water.
I learned my lessons in regards to alcohol, one of my biggest takeaways from college. I’d minored in hangovers and nausea. I’d studied how to mix drinks as much as I’d studied market forces. And it had almost cost me everything that was important to me.
Just like my parents.
I’d only started to realize how much the drinking had overtaken my life when I woke up, in a pool of my vomit, in a neighbor’s yard.
Just like my parents.
I squeeze my eyes shut, trying to stop the memories, but I’m too tired to keep them at bay. I remember waking up in strange houses, Maddox at my side, as our parents partied with whoever was supplying their latest fix. I couldn’t become like them. I’d fought too hard to allow addiction to do to me what it did to them. I wouldn’t let it happen to me, so I’d sworn off all alcohol right then and decided to focus on my future.
Waking up on the lawn was a wake-up call, and I’d heard it loud and clear.
After that night, I’d doubled down on my studies. Instead of finding the nearest house party, I sought out quiet places to do homework. Rather than search for salvation at the bottom of a bottle, I looked for it in my future.