Molly's Lips: Club Mephisto Retold (3 page)

Perhaps in some response to the tension in his body, she sucked faster, pumping the lower part of his cock, building a crest of sensation. She sucked and licked the head, then flicked his balls with the tip of her tongue. He felt a trembling and pulsing begin, the onset of orgasm. With a gasp he held her head and thrust deep. After the drawn-out, expert blowjob, every one of his nerves responded. Firecracker climax. His whole body contorted as his cock emptied out in a bone-trembling release. He dropped his head on the desk, his hand still cupping the back of her neck.

Through some haze of thought, or maybe her sudden trembling, he realized she couldn’t breathe. He let her draw away, and ordered her to be still while he turned and stood on jelly legs to take off the condom and refasten his jeans. The dungeon was getting busier, and he was suddenly feeling a need for control. He beckoned one of his slaves, Lila, to come and assist him before he gave the leash in his hand a tug. He would put Molly away for the night and get his head in the right place to begin mastering her tomorrow. He led her back through heavy double doors into his private residence, past the living room and kitchen and into his bedroom.

When they entered his room, he saw her eye the large, low cage comprising the underside of his bed, and the larger cage in the corner. She would need to be caged tonight. It would help her feel secure and enslaved—even though she wasn’t his slave. At a signal, Lila started to arrange blankets and pillows in the corner enclosure. Lila had slept there a time or two herself, although she had her own place and was only a part-time playmate for Mephisto. For Lila, the cage was a treat. Sometimes, over the next week, the cage would feel like a treat for Molly too.

He pulled his charge to her feet and forced her eyes up to his.

“You are no doubt tired,” he said. “Rest tonight, because tomorrow you will serve me at my leisure, and probably need to learn a lot of new things.”

She nodded, her eyes wide. “Yes, Master. I’ll try my best to serve you.”

“Yes, you will—or I’ll demand you try again and again until you get it right. Perfectly right. And for the duration of your stay here, kitten,” he continued, “you will abide by the same rules your Master set regarding touching yourself.”

“Yes, Master.” She shifted a little, looking more tired than turned on, but with slave types, you never knew what cages might inspire them to do.

He gave her a dire look. “You will not want to discover what happens if you disobey me in this, girl. Understand?”

“Yes, Master,” she said, nodding. “I understand.”

“Now Lila will show you to the bathroom, where you will shower, wash your hair, and brush your teeth with the toiletries set aside for you on the counter. You will leave things clean and orderly when you’re finished, and then Lila will put you to bed.”

He nodded to the cage, needlessly. She understood. He thought for a moment of checking in with her.
Do you miss your Master? Is everything okay with you?
But such softness would have made both of them uncomfortable at this time when his authority had to be most strictly applied. So instead, he gave a last short nod to Lila and left the room. He had business to do, a club to monitor. Other slaves to torment and fuck. The night was young.

But Molly’s night was over. He kept an eye on the monitor near his desk for the next half hour or so to be sure she settled down. She pushed on the door of the cage a few times, tried the padlock, but she wasn’t trying to get out. She was checking.
Yes, you’re really locked in. You’re not going anywhere until I let you.

She laid back, her body still. No, not completely still. She moved her hands, ran them over the welts on her ass. He watched, ready to rush in and raise hell if she slid them between her thighs, but she didn’t. She was crying. Did the welts still hurt? They weren’t that fresh. Clayton had probably done them earlier in the evening. Mephisto finally realized that she was crying over Clayton, caressing the marks he’d left on her.

These wretches in love. He took a screen shot and emailed it to Clayton with the subject “Lucky Bastard” and the simple text, “All is fine.” Shortly after, she turned away, but her shoulders still shook. He wanted to see those tears, demand them for himself. He wanted to taste them, but the club was busy and he had other things to do. He left her to her dreams of Clayton and lost himself instead in the fervor of Club Mephisto on a Friday night.

Mephisto woke earlier than usual. He wasn’t sure why, but then she shifted in her cage and he heard her. “
Please. Please...
”

Her voice sounded thick, anxious. It held a note of panic that made him hot. He shifted and turned on his bedside light so he could see her. She was still asleep. “
No... Please...
”

What did slaves dream about? He couldn’t imagine. Mephisto had begun his journey as an s-type but found it didn’t suit him. It wasn’t enough for him to serve and receive. It didn’t offer enough creative opportunity for his tastes. He still bottomed now and again when he was in the mood to really disintegrate.

There weren’t many people strong enough to top him when he got that way.

Mephisto got up to take a piss, shower and shave, then laid back down and drowsed to her occasional noises of distress. He couldn’t tell if she was upset or turned on when she was repeating
please, please
... Masochists. Who ever understood them? Eventually she shifted, turned over and reached out, whacking her hands on the bars. Ouch.

That jogged her awake and her eyes flew open. He watched her come to complete consciousness, remembering where she was and what she was doing in a cage. She stared at him. He was lying on top of the covers, buck naked and mostly hard. He couldn’t help but be flattered by the way she stared. He stroked himself just to see her eyes widen even more. Jesus, she played the innocent act like a virtuosa. Trouble was, he knew her way back when...

She smiled then, a small, impish smile that took him by surprise.

“Do I amuse you?” he asked.

Alarm replaced mirth. “No...no, Master. I was only thinking...well.”

“Only thinking what?”

“I was wondering why you don’t walk around the club naked when your physique is so...worthy of admiration, Master.”

Mephisto leveled her with his best Casanova look. “Are you admiring me?”

She averted her eyes. “Master, if only you had awakened me, I might have served you rather than making you wait.”

“I wake you when I like, and you serve me when I say so.”

“I’m sorry, Master.”

“You were talking in your sleep.”

“I’m sorr—”

“Stop apologizing. I’m just telling you. I didn’t wake you because I was watching you talk in your sleep. It was rather fascinating, actually.” He shifted and stretched, wondering what he would do with his lovely borrowed slave today. Besides humiliate her by making her ask to go to the bathroom.

“Did you sleep well last night?” he asked with a sigh, scratching his stomach.

“Yes, Master.” Shifting. Pressing her legs together.

“You cried a little when Lila put you in there,” he said, raising one brow.

“I did cry a little. I missed my Master.”

“I’m your Master for now. Or were you crying for me?”

She shifted again, eying the bars and the padlock that held her trapped. She looked back at him with a charming little blush.

“Master...um...I need to use the restroom. Please.”

“You will, when I tell you to.”

She lifted her chin a little, a very subtle sign of annoyance he caught all the same. He stroked his cock again, enjoying her discomfort for a few more moments before he crossed to unlock her cage. It wouldn’t be very nice to send her back to Clayton with a UTI. “Go on, then. Quickly,” he said, reaching down to help her out of the enclosure. “Take care of things.”

She scurried off to the bathroom, leaving the door open. He stood and waited beside her cage, listening to endless peeing and then sounds of her making herself presentable in a frenzied, hurried way. How terrified she must be. It was good, but bad. A certain level of anxiety would improve her submission. Too much anxiety would freeze her, even damage her. She appeared back at the door, taking him in with her deep blue eyes. Pretty eyes. She was so beautiful. Too beautiful.

“Come here.”

Like most slaves, she moved with a great deal of self-awareness. She was tense and yet graceful, her smooth walk showing off all her feminine attributes—her little waist, her round hips, her trim shoulders and perfect breasts. When she was close enough, he took her in his arms, wanting to feel her against him. His cock was rising again with a vengeance, sliding against her warm, smooth skin. He held her with one arm, using the other to cup her breasts. They were real, not too large and not too small, just round and firm and luscious in a feminine way. He ran his fingers over the pert globes gently at first, then pinched the nipples and squeezed them. He slapped them lightly to see how she’d react. She flinched a little, but didn’t pull away. With a sigh of admiration, he tipped her face up to his.

“I’ve always found you the most enticing thing, kitten. So beautifully formed. Like a pretty vase.” He stared down at her, tightening his grip around her waist. “But vases are breakable.”

She drew in a halting breath and bit her lip. He searched her face, so familiar and yet so novel to him. So many expressions flitted across her features, one foremost—

“You’re afraid,” he said.

She blinked, and nodded slowly. “Yes, Master.”

“Tell me why.”

Molly was silent a moment, thinking. “You’re a very strong man,” she finally said. “I know to obey you, and I’ll try, but there is nothing to protect me from you if…if you were moved to anger.”

So she thought him dangerous. It was a reputation he was guilty of promoting, however untrue it might be. “Your Master’s directives protect you, to a degree. I will not hurt you beyond the limits I promised him last night. And believe me, I am a man of my word. But will you move me to anger?” He traced her smooth cheekbones, her lovely lips. “I suppose you might. I know your Master has trained you just as he wishes you. I know you are a well-trained little slave. But remember something, kitten. I am not your usual Master. You will need to learn and abide by my rules this week.”

“Yes, Master.” She huddled close to him even in her fear. He rubbed his cock across her belly and squeezed her welted ass, enjoying her little gasp of pain. Then he slapped her ass sharply.

“Nice marks. Punishment, or Master’s pleasure?”

She thought a moment. “Both, I think.”

He chuckled as he nudged her away. “Not so perfect after all.” He slid a look over her body. His cock was about to burst, and she was a trembling little package of available flesh. “All right, kitten. I’m going to get to know you a little better. Go kneel on the bed. All fours. Open and hungry, like a bitch in heat.”

She turned without a word to obey, crawling onto his white sheets. He stopped her near the edge, positioning her and then rolling on a condom. Her legs were spread and parted, her back arched as if she strained to accept him. Spectacular. He squeezed her welts one more time and then fastened his hands on her hips, driving into her roughly. The delicious sensation of tightness and warmth spurred on the ache that had been building ever since he’d opened his eyes.

He fucked her hard, mechanically, purposely seeking his own pleasure with no thought to hers. It was a quick and enjoyable way to put a slave into the right mind space. The rougher he was with her, the wetter she got.

“You like this?” he whispered. “Being fucked like a toy? You do, don’t you?”

“Yes—Yes, Master.” Her hips arched back as if to seek more of his selfish treatment. He gripped her hips tighter, lengthening his strokes.

“I’m just getting a feel for you,” he said. “And letting you feel me. You’re going to feel a lot of me this week.” He guessed that was probably an unnecessary warning. Well, she was used to being used. He ran a hand up her spine, grabbing a handful of her hair. “You’re nice and tight, aren’t you, girl?”

“Yes, Master.” She squirmed as his grip increased. “I—I try to stay tight for Master’s pleasure.”

“Good girl. Speaking of tight...”

Mephisto pulled out and pressed the head of his cock against her asshole. To his surprise, she tensed up, impeding him.

“Your Master told me you are anally trained,” he said with a touch of impatience.

“I...I am, Master.”

“You still need lubricant?”

“He uses a little. From my pussy.”

The lube on the condom should have been perfectly sufficient for a slave of her training, but then she was nervous. He went for lube and shoved a generous amount into her tight hole. She still resisted, but this time the lube eased his way whether she wanted his thick tool in her ass or not. She groaned as the head stretched her, and then seemed to resign herself as the rest of his length slid in. He waited a moment, just enjoying the sheer, animal pleasure of forcing her. Her ass gripped him, heady sexual friction adding flames to the fire. Again, he took up a jerky, mechanical rhythm that drove sparks of heat down his cock to his ass and balls.

“Mm. Very tight,” he said, gripping her shoulders to make her feel trapped, used. He wondered if she was enjoying herself. Her pained groan during his penetration had been replaced by subtle little sighs of lust. As a warning, he reached beneath her and wrenched both her nipples.

“Oh, Master... Please...”

Please, please...
Just like in her dreams. She pulled away from him but he only held her tighter, his cock buried to the hilt.

“Don’t come,” he warned. “A little reminder. If I don’t tell you to come, don’t dare.”

Mephisto enjoyed making women come, he really did. He enjoyed female sexuality, delighted in the way women fell apart in the throes of climax. But at the moment, he enjoyed controlling and dominating Molly more. Denying her orgasms would help establish his mastery over her, and also make her frustrated and horny. Both results served his purposes well. He increased the rhythm of his thrusts, pounding his hips against her. He came in a glorious wave, all the tension of the morning dissolving, spurted out into his slave’s tight anal channel. He pulled away slowly, commanding Molly to stay as she was. He threw out the condom in the bathroom, washed up, and got a stainless steel plug from a cabinet in his room—a large one. She would soon understand he was big on anal accessibility.