Club Mephisto (5 page)

What if he met another slave he liked more than her?

She bit her tongue to stop herself from pleading with him to stay, or to take her with him. Why did he not just take her along?
Because she might be a distraction.
Because, perhaps, he needed a break from her sometimes.
The true answer, of course, was that he did as he wished, and it was not her place to demand an explanation. He did not
wish
to take her on his trip. He
wished
her to serve Mephisto in his absence. She existed to fulfill his every wish. Her fingers clutched his calf, but she resigned herself to going with Mephisto willingly. She heard, with great dread, parting words.
Final thanks to Mephisto, a rueful joke about how firmly she'd adhered herself to his leg.

"Well then, she's yours," said her Master with a sigh. Not a sad sigh. She could tell his mind was already
back
on business. He'd made arrangements for her and now he was unencumbered by his slave and ready to go.

She felt her leash passed over and a subtle tug from a new hand. "Bid your Master goodbye, kitten. You'll see him in a week."

"Now, no tears," her Master said as he leaned down to pull her into a hug. She breathed in against his neck, a deep gust of his scent to savor and keep until he was back again. "Your behavior will reflect on me. I want you to make me proud," he whispered against her ear.

"Yes, Master."

He rose and left, not looking behind him, although she watched him go as long as Mephisto would permit her. Eventually he tugged her leash again, a bit harder, and said, "Eyes on me."

She turned to him, not unwillingly, but she knew her sadness and grief still showed in her eyes. She saw a glimmer of sympathy, but not much.
Then a resigned smile.
"I don't think you'll be worth much tonight. We'll begin tomorrow, after you rest. But first..."

This time he reeled her in on the leash, wrapping it around his hand until she was crouched under the table between his legs. He handed down a condom, and she could not pretend to misunderstand what he wanted from her. He undid his fly as she
unwrapped
the condom. It was flavored, cherry or strawberry. He was only half-hard, so she fondled and kissed his phallus until it began to grow in her hands. His smell was not her Master's, but it was not unpleasant. His cock was smooth and his balls completely
depilated,
so unlike her Master's blond thatch. Once fully hard, Mephisto was thick and heavy between her palms.

In the darkness under the table she fumbled to roll the rubber down over the swollen head. He yanked the chain impatiently but she was not used to handling condoms. She went slowly, taking care to leave space at the tip the way her Master had taught her to do when he was sharing her with others. Thoughts of her Master assailed her again so it felt bittersweet when she took Mephisto in her mouth. How many times had she been curious about having sex with him?
About the size and shape of his cock and how it would feel inside her?
It filled her mouth and she focused on her task, pleasuring him and
fellating
him. She did the best she could, impeded by the table top above her. Now and again he'd press on the back of her neck so she was pushed down on his solid length. Once she nearly gagged and choked, and thought she heard a chuckle above her.

A couple times people came by the table and Mephisto conversed with them. Whether or not they realized his cock was jammed down her throat, she didn't know and didn't really want to contemplate. As his pleasure grew, he seemed to expand to even greater dimensions and she started to feel exhausted. Licking, sucking, deep
throating
, pulling back to lick and suck his balls, and then back to sucking again. She began to fantasize that he was her absent Master, and she served him with all the passion and desire she felt for him. Mephisto's legs tensed around her and he pushed her head down, down. She tensed her lips and held her breath, opening her throat for him. The familiar warm taste of semen on her tongue was replaced by the cloying berry flavor of the condom.
After several seconds, just as lack of air triggered the beginning of panic, he let her pull away.

"Stay," he said to her under the table. He left and she remained to analyze his feelings from the disembodied tone of his voice. Had he been pleased with her oral skills? He returned a moment later and yanked the leash again. She crawled beside him past the table into the back of the club and then into a living area she'd never seen. There was a private kitchen with a dining table, and then two doors opening to other rooms. He led her into the room on the right. It was large, with a massive black iron bed raised high off the ground. She soon realized it was because the entire bottom of the bed was a cage of thick bars. There was another large rectangular cage in the corner. A girl appeared out of nowhere, a beautiful ethnic-looking girl with wildly curly hair and almond-shaped eyes. She began arranging blankets and pillows in the corner cage.

While she did so, Mephisto pulled Molly up and gazed down at her. It did not even cross her mind to dare to look away.

"You are no doubt tired," he said in a deep, rumble-edged voice. "Rest tonight, because tomorrow you will serve me at my leisure, and probably need to learn a lot of new things."

"Yes, Master. I will try my best to serve you."

"Yes, you will—or I will demand you try again and again until you get it right.
Perfectly right."

Something in the way he spoke left her with no illusions that he might be patient in training her.

"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 couldn't help blushing a little at his direct stare.

"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."

Molly was well aware where her bed would be.
On the floor, in the cage.

She crawled in later at Lila's command—washed, brushed, and exhausted—crouching down so as not to bump her head. It was somewhat exciting to be surrounded by those bars, but somewhat scary. Master had never caged her, and most nights even let her sleep beside him in his bed. The cage was much less comfortable than Master's bed, but she could still stretch out almost all the way. She found a comfortable position lying on her side with her legs drawn up slightly. Before she closed her eyes, she looked around the room again. Mephisto had long since left, gone back to mingle with the patrons of his club. Lila had left as well, after locking a padlock fixed to the door. Once upon a time Molly would have thought about fires, emergencies.
About how to get out if she really had to.

She didn't think about things like that much anymore. In a corner of the room, in the near darkness she could see a slow, blue blink.
Camera.
Someone was watching for emergencies, which was why Lila had left the lights dimmed but not out completely. She knew she would be safe here. Master would not have left her somewhere that wasn't safe. But there was safety and then there was control. She pushed on the door once, twice, just to be certain it wouldn't open. She tugged on the padlock. No, nothing was pretend here. She was caged, well and truly. But she was grateful she hadn't been put to sleep under the bed, with him above her and no way to see him.

Molly's mind started to drift. She touched the welts on her bottom, just a brush of fingers as she settled. It had made her sad to wash off the last residue of Master's cum in the shower. She might have fallen asleep to the scent of it on her hands. But the welts were from his hand, and that soothed her. She cried a little, turning away from the camera so no one would see her—whoever might be watching her now. Soon she fell into a dreamless, heavy sleep. What time Mephisto came to his bed...if he came to his bed...she never did know.

The First Day

Molly turned and stretched, reaching in her sleep for Master. Her hands bumped cold metal bars and she jerked awake. She made a small sound of sadness and frustration, and then realized with a start that Mephisto was staring at her from his bed.

If she had to guess, she would say he was only just awakening too. He was leaning up against a pile of snow white pillows. The forbidding black comforter was on the floor in a heap, revealing a dissonant expanse of pristine white sheets. He lay on top of them, his bronze body another striking contrast. She took all of this in as he watched her in silence. She realized—as she continued to stare—that his cock was in his hands, and he was stroking it in slow, lazy movements. He didn't acknowledge her, although as she held his eyes, one corner of his lips turned up in a shadow of a smirk. She looked away at once, embarrassed to be caught staring so boldly. Whenever she stared at Master that way, he reprimanded her to remember her place.

But in avoiding his eyes, her gaze fell inexorably back to his cock. He was hard, his impressive length jutting out from the cradle of his palm. Now, undressed and relaxed, he looked much larger than he looked in his signature black clothes. She wondered why he never walked around naked in the club. But then, the other patrons would probably find that too daunting. It would cause a riot, she thought with her own half-smile.

"Do I amuse you?"

Her mouth fell open. "No...
no
, Master. I was only thinking...well." She stopped, blushing. God, she had to pee.

"Only thinking what?"

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

"Are you admiring me?"

Are you flirting with me?
She couldn't read him as easily as she could read her Master. Was he angry? Was she about to be punished? Or was she about to be ravished? His expression held no discernable clues.

"Master," she murmured, letting her gaze fall to his fisted cock again, "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."

Now he was clearly angry. At least, his words were sharp.

"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."

She wanted to ask what she might have said that was so fascinating, but to do so would be pure rudeness. If he wanted her to know, he would have told her. As she came to wakefulness she assumed her subordinate role with greater concentration. Which meant, rather than continuing to stare at him and blabber, she lowered her eyes and waited for instructions.
Any instructions.
And prayed that he had plans to let her use the restroom soon.

"Did you sleep well last night?" he asked after a moment.

"Yes, Master."

"You cried a little when Lila put you in there."

The mystery of who watched her—solved. "I did cry a little. I was missing my Master."

"I'm your Master for now. Or were you crying for me?"
That unfathomable expression again, and that unnerving almost-smile.
She didn't make any remark in reply and he didn't seem to expect one. She shifted a little, pressing her legs together. The situation was growing urgent.

"Master...um...I need to use the restroom. Please."

"You will, when I tell you to."

She fell silent, lifting her chin a little. A silly rebellion, but he surely caught it. As attractive and compelling as Mephisto was, she was having trouble transferring her submission over to him so abruptly. He just wasn't kind and affectionate like her Master. He was much more...intense.

Well, she would hold it as long as she had to. If worse came to worse she'd pee in the cage, and probably be forced to clean it up. She lay back down and waited. That was a lot of her life's work since she'd become a slave. Wait, watch and listen. Be useful and attractive. Obey.

She heard him move, and watched him cross the room to her cage, his cock still at half mast or higher. "Go on, then. Quickly,” he said. “Take care of things."