Club Mephisto (16 page)

She missed the taste of his fingers.

She heard a small sob and realized it had come from her. Her throat closed up so she couldn't swallow, and her eyes filled with tears. She kept eating, small bites so she didn’t choke, and he watched her a while before he put his hand on her hand.

"It's okay to cry. But I would like you to tell me the reason."

She looked up at him, blinking through tears. "I think it's mostly...that I'm going to miss you."

"I'll miss you too," he said calmly, as if she wasn't going into full breakdown mode beside her. "I enjoyed our time together."

"Me, too," she said, latching onto his cordial tone like a life raft. "I enjoyed serving you, Master."

"Are you happy?"

His question came too quickly, too unexpectedly. She wasn't prepared for it. "What do you mean?" she stalled.
"Happy to see my Master?"

"I mean," he said, a touch impatiently, "are you happy? Are you content in your life with him?"

She was silent a long moment. "Why are you asking me this?"

"Because he asked me to.
And because I hope you would confide in me if you weren't happy."

"I am happy.
Very happy!"

"He would love you either way, you know. He told me to tell you that too."

Molly stared at Mephisto, trying to untangle this new, brutal conversation. Her heart seized in her chest. "Does he not... Does he not want...?" She couldn't finish the words.

Mephisto looked at her with a bemused affection. "Don't worry, kitten. It's your happiness he's worried about. As you know, he does what he wants in life, and his needs are well met by a very talented companion." He took one of her curls and pulled it in a soft tease. "He wants to be sure you're happy too, and he doesn’t completely trust you to tell him the truth when you’re in role. Not that a well-trained slave like you would lie..."

She bit her lip, flushing.

"It is only," he said, brushing back her hair, "
that slaves
sometimes feel they must tell Master what he wants to hear."

His tone, his soft touching of her hair was meant to reassure, but she was shaking with anxiety. "You're telling me the truth? He's not making plans to let me go, to release me? If you know—please—you have to tell me—"

"Release you? I never said anything about him wanting to release you. He's never indicated anything like that to me. In fact, I don't think there's any other owner of my acquaintance who cares so deeply about his slave.
Just calm down, Molly."

He took a sip of water and leaned back in his chair, while Molly tried to still the galloping pace of her heart. She wanted the cage.
The harness.
The snake whip and a year of orgasm denial.
Anything but this horrible conversation.

"You know, I did this to you," he said. "I made you who you are."

"That's not true." Her slave face fell away, replaced by indignation. "I was always meant to be this way. You're not God. You didn't make me any way—"

"Okay." Again, he put his hand over hers. "Breathe, Molly. And you're right. I didn't make you into a slave, but I had a lot to do with introducing you to Clayton. I set you on this path. To be honest, I was surprised where it ended up."

"Surprised how?" asked Molly slowly.

"Surprised at how much you gave up for him." He looked uncomfortable, a novelty that unsettled her even further. Then the look was gone and he was equivocal again. "Are you happy, Molly?"

She swallowed, wiping away the last of her tears. "Yes." She
pursed
her lips. "Yes, Mephisto, I'm happy."

A full minute or more went by before he spoke again. "Slavery fits you like a glove, kitten. So it doesn't surprise me. But look in my eyes and promise me that if you ever need help, you'll come to me.
If you're ever unhappy.
If the fit starts to slip."

"I promise," she said. She looked into dark eyes that were lighter than she'd thought. It was so hard to really see them in the somber light of the dark club where he lived.

"Good enough," he said. He looked at his watch. "It's almost time for Club Mephisto to open. Go get cleaned up and lie down under my desk until your Master arrives to take you home."

* * * * *

She cried a little more curled up under Mephisto's big table. Perhaps in an effort to distract and refocus her, or perhaps in some quest for symmetry, he sat down in the midst of the club's busy opening preparations and pulled her face into his lap under the table once more. He unzipped and handed down the flavored condom. Now, she was much more adept at handling the slick barrier. Before she'd even unrolled it fully she was moving her tongue across the smooth, bulbous head of his cock. She let herself love him in the moment. She only really loved Master, but for a short while, this man had been her Master too. He'd trained her and challenged her. He'd revealed truths to her and made it so she couldn't look away. He'd offered her a protection that wouldn't end when he handed her leash back to her Master. Somehow she sensed it was a protection that had been there all along.

Maybe he once again perceived her thoughts as she sucked and caressed him. Even hidden away under the table, she sensed he was feeling the same heightened emotion she felt. When he finally came, his broad cock pulsing in her throat, he spread both hands on either side of her face and left them there. There seemed some power in his touch, some branding. He held her head like that for long moments before he pulled away. He reached down then to clip on her silver leash, and she curled up at his feet.
Waiting.

Waiting, such a familiar feeling.
It was still a couple more hours after that before Master arrived. By that time, she was anxious. She was jumping out of her skin to see him. When Mephisto tugged her leash, she crawled out and knelt up, head bowed, her hands folded in her lap and her thighs slightly parted the way he liked. Tears of joy spilled over when her Master lifted her chin to greet her, and an ecstatic smile lit her face. Then she was crying, really crying, and Master was pulling her up by her leash and hugging her close, licking the tears right off her face.

Home

Master took her home, stripped her coat off, and led her straight to the bedroom. She gazed at him from her knees as he undressed. His hands were rough and possessive as he lifted her, and Molly nearly began sobbing with relief when he bent her over the footboard. He drove into her, skin-to-skin, no distancing barrier between them. He ran his fingers all over her, whispering about how much he'd missed her, how much time they had to make up. He fucked her with a delicious, vigorous intensity that had her sinking right back down into her place as his adoring toy.

Afterward he went back out to the living room to sort through the mail Mrs. Jernigan had laid aside while he was away. Molly knelt at his feet, feeling utterly relaxed and content to be home again attending to him in ways she was used to. But when he finished the mail, he picked up the black bag of Mephisto's and investigated the contents with a smile.

"I take it you had an interesting stay with him. He and I are meeting for lunch next week, and he promises to tell me all about your adventures. A chastity harness," he murmured, with a look that set her blushing. "Didn't I tell you he wouldn't be as free with your orgasms?"

"Master, he was a terror."

He threw back his head and laughed. She loved when she managed to amuse him, but in this case it had come at a very high price to her tortured libido.

"Ah, you sweet thing.
I would have enjoyed seeing you suffer under his dominion." So her Master had known exactly what she was going to be subjected to. She gave him a teasing, slightly miffed look from under her lashes. That amused him even more, and he stroked her cheek affectionately.
"My little treasure.
You see, you are as lucky to have me as I am to have you."

"I am lucky, Master. I never forget it," she said with meaning. He sobered and gazed down at her.

"Do you not ever worry, little one, about what provisions I've made for you should I become...unable to fulfill my obligations as your Master?"

"Oh." One short syllable, but her voice trembled. "Well...I... I don't like to think about that."

"I will grow old well before you. And you never know. I could die in a car crash tomorrow."

"I want to be with you forever, Master," she said. "And if you... If something happens to you..."

"You'll what? Go and fling yourself from a cliff? Since I won't be able to give instructions from beyond the grave, let me be explicit with you now. No cliffs."

He was smiling again. Molly flushed a little, amazed that he could discuss such a painful subject so casually. "Master, I hope I die before you."

"And I hope you don't. With that in mind, I might as well tell you there are arrangements in place.
A nice allowance to keep you comfortable for the remainder of your lifetime, and someone to take over for me.
Should it come to that," he added. "And don't look so traumatized. It's someone you know very well."

"Master Mephisto," Molly said softly. It was all suddenly clear. Mephisto's
talk,
and her intense sojourn with him.

"Yes," her Master confirmed. "In the event I can't care for you, you'll go to him."

Her gaze shot to his in surprised disbelief. "You are... You are going to
bequeath
me to Master Mephisto? Is that even legal?"

She shut her mouth, her face flaming red.
To burst out at him in that disrespectful tone...
She bowed her head in the face of his silent displeasure. "I am so sorry, Master."

"I understand this discussion has you on edge. But of course, you'll be whipped for that."

"Yes, Master. I should be."

"It is not your decision, but mine," he snapped, all humor fled.

She bowed and pressed her lips to his fine leather shoes, carefully, so as not to smudge them with lipstick, then rested her forehead on the floor.

"Please, Master," she sighed against the carpet. Her shoulders shook with emotion. Tonight of all nights, she couldn't bear his anger. She stayed still for long moments, and tried not to cry and further anger him. After a couple tense minutes, he took her hair hard in his hands and pulled her head up. She gazed up at him, ignoring the burn in her scalp, relieved to see patience and indulgence in his eyes.

"Now.
Will you let me finish?"

"Yes, Master," she said in her most abject whisper.

"I was going to tell you that Master Mephisto agreed to help you seek a new Master in the event I predecease you or become too infirm to handle you as you're accustomed. I asked him to do me the honor some time ago. He is very intelligent and possesses great integrity. He takes good measure of people and knows the quality Masters in the community. If you'll remember, it was Mephisto who put you in my way not so many years ago, when you were a young, curious submissive."

She blinked, digesting this information. It was true that Mephisto had his fingers on the very pulse of the thriving local BDSM community, and that he understood her deeply, especially after all they'd shared the past week. For just a moment she lifted her hands from their designated position in her lap to touch her heart.

"Master, your forethought and care is so appreciated. I love you so much."

He stroked her hair gently.
"There now.
My well-mannered slave is back. And so you see, there was a greater reason for your week with Master Mephisto. The better he knows you, your ins and outs, the better he can assist you in the unfortunate event of my demise."

A horrible, soul-rending thought occurred to her then. She drew in a heavy breath, her eyes wide in sudden alarm.

"Master—you are not sick—are you? Your trip—"

He smiled and shook his head. "I didn't
lie
to you about my trip, girl. It was just business. And do I look sick to you? I am not leaving this life anytime soon, I hope. But if I did, would you trust Mephisto to help select another Master for you?" He did not ask "If you wished it," because he knew she would wish for another Master,
need
another Master to truly live happily. She considered a moment, thought back over their weekend together, and Mephisto's strange, candid questioning the last day.