3
Ulf
I wait in one of the private playrooms until I hear the first swing of the flogger, then slip back into the main area and settle onto my usual couch. I don’t want the girl with the freckles and curious eyes—wide as a baby deer’s—to see me watching the show. Asbjörn said this was only her second time at the club and she’s completely new to BDSM, so being aware of an audience might interfere.
She caught my eye already when she walked into the club. She looked both nervous and eager, like she had stepped straight into a wolf’s den, hoping to befriend the beast. And the pure fascination shimmering in her eyes and quivering on her parted lips when she watched Toke flog Evelina piqued my fascination.
Then our eyes met, and I knew there was more to this girl than mere fascination. I don’t know how much she realized herself, but the submission was clear in everything from her softening gaze and the way her chin drew in to the way she obediently kept her gaze on mine before Asbjörn broke her out of it.
I almost considered going straight up to the bar and inviting her to do a scene with me. But being the chieftain, it’s not appropriate to play with random girls. I need to set an example. A leader chooses with purpose. And that’s exactly what I want.I want someone worthy. Someone who will submit fully—with strength and vulnerability. Someone who can meet my demands and endure the rituals I’ll take her through. I’m not about to compromise and go easy when I’m the one setting an example, and so I won’t get involved until I know the essence of the woman.
That’s why I asked Asbjörn to do a scene with her—so I can watch and study her. But I already know one scene won’t be enough. Not with someone as inexperienced as her.
She’s already reacting sweetly to the flogger, sinking into the sensations and softening in body and mind. But it will be a long way before she’s ready for the full brunt of what I want to give her—if ever. But that won’t keep me from hoping. I’m patient and willing to wait for the right woman. And something in my gut tells me this woman just might be worth waiting for.
4
Elina
“All good?” Asbjörn asks, pausing the steady rhythm of the flogger that has pulled me into a trance.
“Yes,” I say on a long breath and lick my lips. He hasn’t said anything for a while, and it takes a moment for my brain to wake from the hibernation it seems to have gone into.
“Ready for the next flogger?”
“Um.” I pause, and it makes him chuckle.
“Did you even realize that I’ve been building intensity?”
“What? No. Maybe.”Shit, my brain doesn’t seem to be working properly, and uncertainty infiltrates my voice. “I’m not sure. I guess I...” I trail off, not knowing how to describe the weird haze that has settled over my brain.
“Shh, it’s okay.” Asbjörn puts the flogger away to place both hands on my shoulders. He steps close—so close I can feel his heat radiating into my skin. “I think you’re already subbing out a little. That’s a good thing. You’re very receptive.”
“Subbing what?”
He leans closer, his breath hot against my ear, sending small shivers down my suddenly very sensitive skin. “Subbing out. Going into subspace. It’s this floaty space, where you kind of detach from the world around you. It feels good, doesn’t it?”
I take stock of my body. My limbs feel a bit heavy, and my mind is surprisingly calm—no thoughts coming from ten different directions like they usually do.
“Yeah,” I say, a smile forming on my lips as I soak up the delicious sensation.
“Are you good to continue?”
“Yes, please.”
He hums as if pleased with my response, then trails a hand down my spine as he steps back.
This time, when he starts again, I notice the flogger is heavier. The sensation seems to go deeper, but it’s still just warm. No pain. And the steady rhythm lulls me deeper into the floaty trance, making me lean further into the cross.
Time ceases to exist as Asbjörn flogs me, and my already diminished awareness of my surroundings fades further as I become suspended in time and space. All I feel—all I hear—is the strands of the flogger smacking against my ass, sending deep trails of heat into my muscles, awakening a simmering desire that has me gasping and even moaning.
Asbjörn whispers soothing words as he goes. “Good girl,” and “That’s it, just give in. You’re doing so well.”
He intensifies the rhythm and the force of the strikes gradually. At one point, it even hurts.
“Ouch,” I gasp. But the pain is only a flicker before a rush of heat rises in its wake.
Asbjörn pauses, then chuckles. “I was about to ask whether you’re good to continue, but this says it all.” He strokes a hand over my ass, and it’s only then that I notice that I’m pushing it out in open invitation.
