MasukHe moves back to my head and I watch, panting as he smoothly adjusts the bench I’m lying on.It hinges slightly, tilting my head back and down until it hangs just over the edge, his dick inches from my face.The machine’s relentless motion takes my breath away, making my neck arch and my vision swim. “Don’t you dare,” Klaus commands. “Keep your eyes on me.”My eyes snap open immediately.I watch him take off the condom and grab a wipe from the shelf, wiping his cock slowly.He seems to be obsessed with cleanliness.His heavy hand cups my jaw next.His fingers are tight before he delivers a light, stinging slap to my cheek. The shock makes my head snap slightly.“Open your mouth, Alexa,” he commands, his voice low and devoid of warmth. “Let’s see how much you truly love to scream.”I obey, heart hammering in my chest.My jaw drops open, my tongue slick with anticipation.He steps closer, and then he is upon me. His massive hot dick is pressed against my chin before he slams it into my
Klaus steps back around the bench and I twist my head over my shoulder to watch him.He looks like a predator assessing his prey; calm, lethal, and completely in control. He goes on his knees, eyes locked on mine as he lowers his gaze to the trembling space between my thighs.His thick, calloused finger grazes my core, and a sudden heat spreads through me, making my stomach flutter.I want more, need more, but the gag muffles every plea.The gentle pressure teases me and I tremble. Not just from his touch, but from knowing he controls how far I’ll go.Then he slips it inside, stretching me, and the sudden fullness makes me lose control.“So tight,” he says, surprise evident in his tone. His voice rumbling low enough to sink into my bones. “You’re so incredibly tight, little mouse.”He begins to move. Slow at first. Then faster.The pleasure is far too intense for such a small thing.He’s skilled. God, he knows what he’s doing.Another finger joins the first.My body tries to leap off
~ Alexa ~ I gasp, my lungs seizing up as his words hit me. The playful cruelty in his voice slices right through the thick haze of pleasure-pain, and for the first time, a small part of my brain manages to surface. Everything about this, the hot wax, the shock of the ice, the agonizing depth of the hook, is designed to drive me insane. It shouldn’t feel good, yet I’m a mess of trembling want. A reaction I never knew I was capable of. And the fact that a part of me responds at all makes something old and cold inside me twitch awake. I don’t want to think about where that feeling comes from, but my mind trips over the past anyway. Only three people have ever touched me in all twenty-six years of my life… first was my father, who started abusing me at age seven. Then Marcel and Hunter, my exes. I honestly thought I wasn’t capable of enjoying sex. I mean, I think about it… I imagine myself with random men and even women. But anytime I did it, it always felt wrong and I
That desire is a beautiful thing. That’s what I crave: complete, consuming dependency on my next choice. I pick up the low-temp candle, my pulse thrumming with the need to own her completely. The way she trembles blind beneath me feeds the chaos I’ve barely learned to contain. I tilt the candle and watch a drop of deep red wax fall. I don't aim for the already tortured core, but just beside it, onto her incredibly sensitive, pulsing inner thigh. I watch the wax hit and instantly harden into a tight warm shell against her skin. She lets out a startled animal sound that vibrates right through me. "That's how you use your voice," I breathe, my fingers trailing the hot, new line of wax. "I told you to arch. Now, hold it, little mouse. Burn for Daddy." I shift instantly. My hand snatches an ice cube from the small silver bucket nearby. The shockwave is essential, and I waste no time in delivering it. The ice is wet and shockingly cold. Her breath stutters in the quiet. I
~ 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 br
My muscles move without conscious thought. I step over the discarded dress and walk to the padded bench. A small hesitation runs through me, the last bit of control I’ve always clung to. The quiet in the room feels amplified by my own pulse, reminding me that I crossed a line the moment I stepped toward him. Every part of me is alert and braced for whatever comes next. I turn to lie on my stomach, cheek pressed against the slightly cool vinyl. My heart hammers so violently it sends tremors through the padding beneath me, tightening everything inside me in a way I can’t ignore. Klaus is beside me immediately. I hear the quick click of metal and something thick wraps around one of my wrists and I feel the cold slide of a lock. “Hands flat, palms down,” he murmurs, his breath hot next to my ear as I obey. “Good. Don’t move.” The other wrist is secured then my ankles are spread wide and clamped. The restraints are padded heavy leather, but the final snap of the lock makes them feel







