Club Mephisto (9 page)

"Now, kitten," he said when she was securely harnessed, "look at me." He tipped her head back with a thumb under her chin. "I see no more reason for you to talk to me, only to obey. You can obey without speaking. So unless I ask you a direct question from now on, I want no words."

"But...please Master, may I ask one more question?"

"One more."

"Must I be completely silent?"

"Silent? No, girl. I said no
words
, not
no
noise. Feel free to scream, whine, or whimper as needed. I actually quite enjoying hearing you make those sounds."

"Thank you,
Mas
—" she started to say, until she was silenced by a quelling finger placed on her lips.

The Third Day

She awakened in the same state she'd fallen asleep in. Pure, elemental arousal, kept at a constant low simmer by the intrusive harness she wore. After dinner the night before he'd refreshed the oil that tormented her, and then again when he came home right before bed. All that time he'd kept her caged, so she had nothing better to do than think about how badly she wanted to masturbate, and how unable she was to do so. She'd masturbated in her mind a thousand times, but found no respite. She fidgeted in the harness, squeezed her ass and pussy on the dildos in a focused attempt to relieve her need, but she finally realized that, beside the fact that it wasn't possible...her Master didn't want her to. If she persisted, then she was willfully trying to disobey him. After that, she just resigned herself to the haunting ache.

Now, in the dim light of the morning, she realized that she hadn't thought about her Master in hours...since the harness went on. She realized the method behind the madness, and it frightened her. Simply by denying her what she was desperate for—orgasm—he could focus her thoughts completely on her body and her need for him.
For his permission.
For his release.
For his cock.
Nothing else had been able to take hold in her mind except her desire for him and how much she wanted to come.

But knowing the purpose behind his treatment of her didn't soothe the throbbing in her pelvis or the longing in her clit. God, what if he oiled her up again this morning? She lay very still behind her confining bars, hoping he wouldn't notice she was awake. She did drift off a little, exhausted from a restless night. When she came to awareness again she heard deep male voices and low laughter. She rubbed her eyes and saw Mephisto stir and roll over on top of his bed partner.
His male bed partner.
Mephisto pinched the man’s nipples hard and he moaned, throwing back a mane of shoulder length platinum blond hair. He was light to Mephisto's dark, and seemingly bottom to Mephisto's top. Mephisto pinched his nipples again and Molly watched in bitter fascination, feeling the twinge and burn in her own hardening peaks. She wished Mephisto was touching her, not that man. She heard hushed orders then.
Mephisto's orders.
Suck me.

The muscular males rearranged, the blond man kneeling submissively beside the bed. Mephisto stretched out his legs on either side of him, his cock standing up like a beacon in the darkness. Molly salivated for him, and her pussy clenched around the dildo inside her as she imagined his cock pushing inside her instead. The man bent over his cock and worshipped Mephisto, licking him avidly, pumping his thick tool in his hands and then taking him all the way into his throat. Mephisto looked down at him like a scornful god, leaning back and letting the man service him.

Molly simply stared. She wasn't shocked, only mesmerized. She'd seen Mephisto kissing and embracing men while she was at the club, and had assumed he was bisexual. She just hadn't imagined this intensity and the dissonance of seeing such a large, powerful man kneeling at his feet.

She must have made some sound, or perhaps he just sensed her gaze on him, because he turned his head and watched her. His lips were slightly parted, his eyes sleepy with pleasure. The man was lapping at his balls now. Mephisto grasped his head and started fucking his face, never taking his eyes off Molly. He came with a groan, and Molly turned away from him, unable to bear the stark intimacy of the moment. Mephisto fell back on the bed and chuckled softly.

"We have an audience."

The blond man turned to her with a curious look. If he expected to find her scandalized or shocked, he was disappointed, because she stared back at him with the same open curiosity.

"Who is she?" he asked Mephisto.

"Someone I'm watching for the week. Slave girl. More of a fuck toy, but it's her Master's tastes."

She kept her face blank at his words, but inside she wanted to rage at him for belittling her service to her Master.
He is your Master for now
, she reminded herself.
Even if you don’t like him.
She was glad he had forbidden her to speak, for she didn't want to interact with him any more than she had to. In four more days, her Master would return for her. It couldn’t come soon enough.

Eventually he let her out, and to her relief, he didn't put her back into the harness after she'd washed. She knew that probably meant he would fuck her again, but she didn't mind if it would buy her some small freedom from the device. Still, he watched her closely to be sure she didn't touch herself.

They all had breakfast together. The other man sat at the table with Mephisto, and she came to realize they were simply friends, whatever sexual encounters they shared. They followed no particular customs or protocols, but talked instead about business, mutual acquaintances, and upcoming club events. Molly sat silent, choked by Mephisto's gag order, and not even fed very well, since Mephisto was distracted by the other man's conversation.

Molly really had no friends she chatted with regularly. There were some people who knew her by name at the club, but they weren't friends in the sense that they might hang out together, or exchange phone calls. For the first time in a while she thought about old friends she'd had, even childhood friends.
Stacy, her high school friend that had made her laugh until she cried, and Amy, the crazy girl who was always entertaining her with her active love life.
Melinda, her sixth grade friend who had always been a firecracker.
Celeste, her middle school friend who had given her
her
first lesbian kiss.
Her first
anything
kiss.
George, a true friend and the first boy who had kissed her, a real kiss in the back of his car.
Where were they now? What had become of the Molly who knew them?

But this had probably been his intention, to remind her of the friends she'd lost in the course of choosing her lifestyle. Of the friends she wouldn't make now that she'd devoted all her service and attention to her Master. But if he thought it would upset her, he was wrong. Master meant more to her than a thousand friends. Why did she assume everything Mephisto chose to do
had
some hidden purpose of hurting her, though? More likely, he just felt like meeting with one of his fuck buddies.

She made her mind go blank, and a familiar peace came over her. It was so much easier to serve than to get caught up in
her own
needs and frustrations. When Mephisto fed her again, she let her lips linger reverently against his fingers. He looked down at her, perhaps surprised or perhaps pleased. Perhaps he had only forgotten she was there.

A short while later he and the friend went out. Before he left, he locked her in the harness—without the dildos—and looped her leash around the foot of his bed. There was no need for locks or restraints. He knew she wouldn't go anywhere simply because it was his order. He didn't say how long they would be, or give any directions for her to follow in their absence. Molly knew well enough what her directions were. Sit and wait. Don't touch yourself. Don't try to come.

She wished he'd left a book for her at least. He left a cell phone up on the bed, but she knew that was only for an emergency. And an emergency meant a fire or a break-in, not the condition of her unsatisfied clit and pussy. She almost wished he'd left the dildos in, even with the oil tormenting her, because at least she would have had some stimulation. Then again—perhaps some stimulation would have been worse than no stimulation at all.

Molly settled soon, lying down on the floor to wait. At some point she must have fallen asleep, and she was sore when she woke up from sleeping wrong on her shoulder. She rubbed it, trying to soothe the pain. She must have been having sexy dreams because she wanted to rub herself between the legs too. She looked up with a frown at the camera blinking above her. She wouldn't be able to get at her clit anyway, and she certainly wasn't brave enough to risk loosening the harness. It was possible he never checked the camera footage, but remembering the legs-in-the-air strapping she'd endured yesterday as a punishment, she wasn't willing to take any chances. But perhaps...perhaps he would let her come later.

Then again, his guy friend was with him. It had been hours now since he'd used her, and perhaps he wouldn't use her at all today, preferring his male lover. She pouted, still rubbing her shoulder, and then heard their voices out in the other room.
Finally.
 

But they didn't come. She heard noises, impact, groans. They were playing out in the dungeon. The sounds alone were more than enough to arouse her—she was glad she wasn't watching or she'd really be getting turned on.
Even so...
She parted her knees where she sat, wanting to drag her hungry pussy across the floor.
More thuds and guttural groans.
A yell that was from the blond man.
He was clearly still bottoming.
Oh God.

Then silence.
Please come fuck me. Please.
Molly decided that orgasm denial was ruining her as a slave. She couldn't think of anything but sex. Normally she was very service oriented, but now… What if Mephisto turned her into a sex-crazed maniac just in time for her to be returned to her Master? What would her Master make of her, seeing her like this? She closed her legs and attempted to sit primly.

In the silence she heard voices again, moving closer. Mephisto came back in the room, pulling his friend behind him. The man's ass and thighs were now beaten a deep red. She wondered if he'd gotten the same type of strapping she'd suffered. Both men's cocks were also reddish-purplish hard, bobbing and jerking in front of them. Mephisto leaned over the bed next to Molly and gave the man a look. In response, Mephisto’s lover scrambled to sheathe himself and carefully coat his cock with lube. Still, to this point, neither man had acknowledged her presence. She watched unabashed as the man grabbed Mephisto's hips and eased his cock into her Master's asshole. Mephisto was beautiful dark sensuality as he received him, his hairy thighs and ass cheeks tensing as he groaned. The other man hissed his breath in and seemed to be trying really hard to hold back. Perhaps Mephisto denied his orgasms too?

"Girl!"
Mephisto's bark startled her. He was
unlooping
her leash. "Go get a condom.
Now."

She ran to his bureau to get one from the basket there.

"Lay on the bed," he gasped, grabbing it from her. His fingers worked at the buckles of her harness, flinging it away. The man behind him never stopped fucking. Mephisto yanked her by the hips until she was nearly to the edge of the bed, and then slid inside her. When she lifted her legs to wrap around Mephisto’s hips, she felt the hands of the man behind her sliding up her thighs. Mephisto pounded her in rhythm to his lover's thrusts, and she lifted her pelvis, enjoying the fullness of his cock. The men grew rougher, more frenzied. The man practically crawled over Mephisto's back and Mephisto, for his part, fucked Molly right across the expansive bed.

"Don't come," he grunted, pinching her nipple.
"You.
Girl.
You don't come."

She hated it but she nodded compliantly. A moment later, Mephisto shuddered, ramming her
hard,
and the man behind him groaned. They pulled away slowly, gasping, and Molly lay still, miserable and unsatisfied. She didn't watch as Mephisto embraced his lover and kissed him. She wanted to die.

He ignored her the rest of the day, until she was going mad from boredom. She eavesdropped on their conversations, feeling hopelessly banal compared to Mephisto's friend, who she eventually divined was some kind of musical artist on a tour.

Later, just before bed, they fucked her again, this time on the floor in a different arrangement. She was again on her back, her shoulder blades sliding across the floor as the blond man—Jamie—fucked her pussy, and Mephisto fucked him from behind. She found it traumatic, because she had taken a great dislike to Jamie, and she had a suspicion that the feeling was mutual. That suspicion was confirmed as they lay together afterward. Jamie looked at Mephisto, dead serious.