Club Mephisto (2 page)

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Authors: Annabel Joseph

Tags: #Erotic Fiction, #Romance, #Erotica, #Fiction, #Fantasy, #Bondage (Sexual Behavior), #Sadomasochism

BOOK: Club Mephisto
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When she was nearly finished eating, Mrs. Jernigan burst into the dining room.

"He's coming! Your Master is home early—"

Before Mrs. Jernigan even finished, Molly was flying. She
paused
just a millisecond to scan her face in the mirror, checking her teeth for broccoli and scrutinizing her lipstick to be sure none had worn off. With a couple token tugs at her long, dark curls, she flew to the foyer and took up her kneeling stance at the entryway just as the lock turned in the door. She bowed her head, kneeling straight, her hands folded in her lap and her thighs slightly parted.

Master is home. Now I can be who I am.

 

 

 

 

Master

 

 

 

As always, she saw only his shoes first, his lovely shiny leather loafers, and the bottom of his crisply tailored and starched pants. She always fought not to look up. She had been trained to let him acknowledge her when and if he wished it. He almost always acknowledged her, but she was trained to wait.

Mrs. Jernigan took his briefcase and coat as always and bustled away with them. He reached down then and placed two gentle fingers on the side of her face. She suppressed the sigh of joy, the shiver that threatened to shake her each time he did this. His fingers trailed lower, beneath her chin, and tilted her face up. She stared at her Master—tall, blond, with blue eyes that sparkled with fondness and challenge. She couldn't suppress an ecstatic grin.

"Lovely girl."
He smiled back at her. "Did you miss me?"

"Yes, Master! Oh, I missed you so much. Welcome home."

"How was your day?"

Molly told him an abbreviated version—which books she'd read, when she'd exercised, when she'd rested, when Ms. Bobo had come by. He listened with absorption. These were her moments, the moments he unselfishly gave her each day before he demanded she give herself over to his needs. She basked in his full attention, pouring all the appreciation and excitement she felt into her words because she knew it would please him.

When she finished, he lifted her to her feet as always and gave her a deep kiss full of promise. She pressed against his broad chest, breathing in his masculine cologne and the fresh scent of his fine clothing. His fingers twisted in her hair, making her entire body tingle. Her naked skin felt alive wherever she touched him even though he was still fully dressed. Only then, after the kiss, was she able to focus again on her task of serving him. She peered up into his blue eyes silently, awaiting his next command, whether it was sending her for a whiskey, or for a whip.

"You seem in high spirits today," he said. "Come into the living room."

She trailed behind him to the adjacent space, a large, airy room with a huge window-wall that afforded spectacular views of the Seattle city skyline. Molly always found the staid lines and neutral tones of the room soothing, and sat there many hours just looking out at the view.
But not now.
Now she was focused completely on her Master. He sat back in one of the club chairs near the fireplace, beckoning her forward with a casual gesture she knew well. She went to him and knelt between his outstretched legs. She loosed his waistband's button with careful, patient attention, not wanting to jostle or jerk at his clothing. She drew down the zipper and released his hardening member from the fly of his silk boxer shorts. He sank back with a sigh, letting her attend him.

Her Master's cock was truly wonderful, and it was no problem for her to worship and service it for hours on end. It was the perfect length and thickness—it choked her a little when he thrust in her mouth, and it stretched her a little whenever he entered her pussy, but it was a thrilling stretch, not the painful kind. More than that, his cock represented, for her, her Master's awesome power and masculinity. She
licked
up and down the hard, swollen shaft, teasing the bulbous crown before bowing her head to lick around the base. She caressed his balls as she did, taking him deeper, deeper... He made soft lust sounds that thrilled her, his hands roving lazily over her hair, down to her shoulders, then down lower to squeeze and pinch her sensitive breasts. She made sounds too, hums and small moans of pleasure she simply couldn't contain.

He was clearly in as high of spirits as she was. It wasn't long before he leaned forward, grasping the sides of her head and taking her mouth in violent strokes that culminated in a pulsing orgasm in her throat. She stayed still, tasting his hot cum, swallowing it down and licking up the very last drops from the tip of his cock.

"Good girl," he said, tilting her chin up with a smile. "Go and tell Mrs. Jernigan that I will take dinner early tonight. We'll be going to Club Mephisto at ten."

 

* * * * *

 

Molly knelt beside him as he ate, in case he should need anything. He was looking over some papers connected to his work. She wasn't sure about the extent of his wealth or what he actually did all day as the owner of a prominent Seattle real estate firm. She just knew he was very successful at what he did. He had a real life name, Clayton, which she also loved, although she couldn't imagine ever calling him Clayton. She had called him Mr. Copeland while they were dating, and Master before they were even officially wed. His friends and family called him Clayton when they came over and Molly dressed in unfamiliar clothing to act as Master's vanilla wife. Some of his friends called him Clayton at the club too.

Club Mephisto.
The place they'd met.

Master took Molly to the club on a fairly regular basis, perhaps once a month. Sometimes they didn't go for two or three months if Master was especially busy, and Molly would feel disappointed. It wasn't only that she didn't get out of the house much. To be honest, it was also because of Mephisto himself.

Mephisto was the owner of the eponymously-named private BDSM club Master preferred. Since a couple years ago, Club Mephisto was the only place they went. Mephisto's clientele was hand-selected and thoughtfully chosen. It was Mephisto himself who had invited Molly to work at his club when he'd met her, drunk and wild, dancing atop a table at a mainstream bar on Pike Street. She had shown up nervous and curious, and been put to work behind the bar in the dark, cavernous play space. She had been given a white collar symbolizing Mephisto's protection. What she saw...the scenes, the
sex,
the power exchange...changed her life.

But she had never been Mephisto's girl. Mephisto was no one's, and no one ever belonged to him. Or perhaps it was more accurate to say that everyone belonged to him in the intimate, decadent world he created. It was Mephisto who had paired up Molly with her Master. He had somehow perceived they were a likely match. It was what he was famous for, and why people always came back. It was why people in the lifestyle all wanted to find a way into Mephisto's private enclave. Mephisto created sex magic, and mind-blowing scenes of power exchange. Molly was not immune to his spell, although she hid her fascination as well as she could. She didn't want Master to stop going because Molly had an inappropriate curiosity about Mephisto. Anyway, everyone did, not just her, so Molly tried not to feel too guilty about it.

"Girl?
Did you hear me?"

Molly snapped back to attention, flushing red. "Please forgive me, Master. I was...not attending."

 

He gave her an arch look.
"Coffee.
And the nipple clamps, if you are having trouble staying focused tonight."

"Yes, Master."

Molly stood and went to let Mrs. Jernigan know that Master was ready for after-dinner coffee, and then went to fetch the nipple clamps from the unobtrusive stash of toys in the living room. It was no less than she deserved. How could she be daydreaming about Mephisto rather than paying attention to Master? Molly knelt before him as she returned, offering her breasts to him as she handed over the clamps. He pulled each nipple hard before he closed the biting teeth down on tender flesh. Molly tensed at the excruciating pain, but kept her cries of discomfort inside.
You deserve this. You deserve this. Focus.
Mrs. Jernigan came in to deliver Master's cappuccino just as he was clamping the second nipple, and Molly's face flamed red with humiliation. Mrs. Jernigan soundly ignored her as always.

Master thanked Mrs. Jernigan in a cordial tone,
then
yanked the silver chain between Molly's breasts.

"Were you daydreaming, Molly?" he asked.

He was not truly angry, only slightly annoyed, to her relief. She nodded and answered, "Yes, Master. I'm so sorry and I beg your forgiveness."

"What were you daydreaming about?"

She paused but a second. "Club Mephisto, Master." Well, that was true. She was contemplating the club, in addition to the club's owner. But the words felt dry in her mouth. She knew them for a lie, a dissemblance. She concentrated on the dull, throbbing pain in her nipples.
You deserve this. You deserve worse.

Master sipped his coffee in silence a few minutes, flicking the chain every so often to draw a gasp of pain from her. She focused all her attention on him, trying to make up for her earlier gaffe. At last he pushed back in his chair, but did not stand.

"I have news for you, girl. I have been called away for next week.
Business.
A last minute thing.
I was a bit at ends trying to think what to do with you. It's fine to leave you with Mrs. Jernigan of course, but I think you get restless."

Molly felt devastated, cold-cocked. Going away for a week? That was so long to be without him. And it was true. She hated being alone with no interaction or affection, just trapped in Master's home with cold,
reserved
Mrs. Jernigan. She gazed up at him, letting her sadness show in her eyes. The pain of the clamps, which had given her a place of focus just moments ago, was now overshot by a much more encompassing pain in her heart.

"Now, girl.
It's only a week," her Master chided. "You look as if I just killed your puppy. I actually made some calls from the office and hit on a viable arrangement, which is why I came home early."

"
An
...
an
arrangement, Master?"

"Yes, I've arranged for someone else, another Master I trust, to watch over you and put you through your paces while I'm gone. That way I know you're occupied and behaving
yourself,
and you needn't sit around here doing nothing with Mrs. Jernigan. Furthermore, now she can take a short vacation, which is long overdue."

"Oh, Master. You're so smart to think of that." She wanted to ask "
who, who, who?
" but that would have been a terrible breach of decorum, so she waited patiently for him to tell her whom he'd chosen. She knew he would only choose someone very trustworthy and capable, and so she wasn't worried at the idea of being given into someone else's hands, only curious as to
who
it might be. It was certainly someone they knew from the club, since they were going there later. The idea of him making the effort to actually arrange such plans for her in his absence touched her deeply.

She gazed up at him. "I love you so much, Master. I appreciate it so much." Her trembling fingers reached out to graze his calf, the wonder of a mortal touching a God. "Master, I can't explain how much your care and concern mean to me." Her voice wobbled on the last word.

"Now there, girl.
You know how I feel about you getting overemotional."

"Yes, Master," she whispered, reining in her tears. He reached out to toy with her hair, a light lazy touch that quieted her.

"At any rate, you may not be so grateful later. Mephisto is an exacting Master.
Much more so than I.
I coddle you shamelessly."

Mephisto?
He was giving her to
Mephisto
? The warm fuzzy feelings of the moment before disappeared as her heart began to race. Her pulse pounded loud in her ears.
Mephisto?
For all her fascination with him, he frightened her. She shivered a little, trying to contain herself. Her Master watched for signs of reaction, and drew her closer when he saw what must have been her obvious signs of distress. He tugged her forward with the chain until she was hunched against him, her cheek resting on his thigh.

"Are you so afraid, pet?" he murmured. "I believe this could be a good experience for you. Something outside your quiet domestic existence with your old, settled Master."

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