Page 69 of Axe Marks the Spot

Cue the curveball I didn’t expect: Lindsey.

If I did picture a potential partner coming into my life, I certainly did not expect them to be completely new to submission. I didn’t expect them to be such a stunning yet sassy brat. I didn’t expect them to live in this little mountain town I call home. And I most certainly didn’t expect them to have a kid, a sweet and witty one I find endearing and funny.

Tonight, I went to the diner to pick up my breakfast for dinner, something I do every Sunday. It’s rare I go inside; Cheryl sees my truck pulling up and brings it out. I know it’s because she’s hoping I’ll ask her out or talk to her about my life.

She’s tried to pry information out of me since she started working at the diner a couple of years back, but I’ve given her minimal information. Sometimes, I think she watches my videos online, but I honestly don’t know, and I’m not going to ask her.

When I drove up to the diner, I spotted Kas and Lindsey sitting at a booth through the window. Before I knew what I was doing, I’d parked my truck and made my way in. I don’t know what I thought would happen when they noticed me, but I sure as hell didn’t expect Kas to invite me to eat with them. I didn’t expect myself to say yes, either.

But now I’m learning that I should expect the unexpected when it comes to Lindsey and Kas. On top of that, I do and say things that are completely out of character for me, things that lead me to believe Fox is right. I need to speak with Lindsey about moving our relationship forward in a different direction. I’ve been thinking about it all week, during every message, every bit of praise I send, but I’ve been allowing us to settle into our dynamic, wanting to ask her at the right time.

I open my laptop and go to my email to catch up on some work. My email is stacked full with new requests to work with me. Usually, that means a video has gone viral or at least gotten enough views for people to want to know more about what I do and see if they can get on my waitlist.

I pick up my phone and open Loopr, finding that a video has over eight hundred thousand views. There are thousands of comments, too. It’s a minute-long one I uploaded earlier this morning that I filmed the night after I called Lindsey my good girl.

I kept my shirt on, the lighting dark so I could edit it in black and white. My button-up is black, and I have it rolled up on my forearms. It’s one of my more erotic videos, where I’m pretending to talk to a submissive that needs punishment, which explains why it’s done as well as it has. I’m sure my email is full of inquiries asking if I do in-person scenes. The internet is thirsty, and when I give them water, they drink. This video will pay out well, so it’s done its job.

I go to exit out of the app when a new comment comes through on my notifications, and I stop in my tracks at the username. I look at the time on my phone and see it’s seven. Lindsey’s socials won’t lock for a bit yet, so I guess someone is scrolling and looking at my page. I probably shouldn’t be as happy as I am about it, but the fact she commented tells me someone wants to play.

I take a sip of my decaf coffee, almost choking on it when I read the comment she left on my video.

@WhyAmIHere33: How would you punish me?

I swallow down the hot liquid and read the notification again while I cough. Then I read it again.

It’s no different from some of the other comments on the video, but my reaction is based solely on it coming from her. Did she drink that wine I told her not to drink the other night?

I sit up in my chair, deciding I can answer my other submissives in a minute. Lindsey is mine, after all. There’s also the question that’s been running through my mind since I left Fox’s last week. If I were to do what he said, allow my subconscious thoughts that are now conscious to manifest into a relationship with her, an in-person one, would she say yes?

Part of me thinks she wouldn’t. She didn’t come to me for more than what we’re doing now. But then I read a comment like that, and I remember what she said about how she’d ease my disappointment and the blushing emoji she sent, not to mention the flirty undertones of our messages this week, and I think she would. Maybe she’s even imagined it or wants it already like I do, even if I’ve been berating myself and attempting to deny it.

Fuck it.

I open up my messaging app and find Lindsey’s name, typing a message before I can talk myself out of it.

Me

Are you drinking?

It takes less than thirty seconds for her next message to pop up.

Lindsey

No, Sir. Why do you ask?

Me

The comment you left on my video was brave.

Lindsey

Do you think I need alcohol to be brave?

Me

No, I think you’re brave already. Maybe the better word is uninhibited.

Lindsey