Club Mephisto(28)

He backed away, undoing the cuffs at her ankles. Then he was back, the bed dipping behind her. He lifted her legs, sliding his knees beneath them. He grasped her hips and she felt the press of his cock against her aching pussy. He stretched her open, touching her deep inside, filling her to the hilt. The candle still invaded her ass with its persistent sting, a sensation made more noticeable as his cock rubbed against it through the walls of her channels. It was an odd, overwhelming sensation, more provocative then pleasurable.

As he fucked her, he manipulated the candle, working it in and out, up and back, all to the soundtrack of her whimpers, moans, and guttural lust sounds. When at last he came, she was aroused but not frantic, and so she was able to enjoy the feeling of his cock pulsing inside her. She was able to hear his jerky breaths and the low moan in his throat, rather than her own internal monologue of need. She absorbed his heightened final thrusts with a different kind of satisfaction—that of a slave who has denied her own desires and wishes in service to her Master.

Afterward, he stayed in her a long while, still toying with the candle and lazily stroking her back. Now and again he peeled and flicked pieces of wax off her. She took each touch, each pang of fleeting arousal, as another gift of her slavehood. She could tell by the tenderness of his fingers that he was pleased. Finally he stood to discard his condom and free her of the candle's intrusion. He removed the cloth and took her to the bathroom to clean up. He peeled the remaining wax off himself with deft fingers. She fought against feelings of love and affection for him, but when he was so tender and gentle...

When he was satisfied that she was cleaned up to his specifications, he took her hands in his and kissed each one. His eyes gazed into hers with a strange intensity of feeling. "I'm very proud of you, kitten."

She swallowed, flushing, feeling suddenly close to tears. She wanted to say that it was all his doing...that he had taught her, explained it all to her, and that it finally made sense. Even if it was terribly difficult. I am so happy to please you. I'm so happy you patiently instructed me how to do so.

He led her back to the bedroom and detached the cuffs from the bed, putting them back on her wrists. Then he clipped them with another length of chain through the ring in her collar so she couldn't lower them even to her waist. "I trust you more now," he said. "But sometimes in sleep even the best slaves forget."

She expected to be led to the cage but he pointed to his bed. She complied, trying not to reveal her surprise or the flutter in her chest. When he climbed in beside her and pulled her back against him, she settled into his embrace of evident approval, supremely content. His warmth and power was like a bastion around her, and she knew she would do anything, give up anything to please him. Just as she would for her other Master.

Mephisto had finally mastered her. God help her. She drifted off in his arms, not even thinking once about how many days she had left.





The Fifth Day





They slept late the next day, Mephisto awakening with mutters of all the things he needed to get accomplished for the party. After a hurried breakfast, he led her back in the bedroom and ordered her to bend over the bed. She expected the dreaded harness, but he brought a substantial butt plug instead. She groaned inwardly as he lubed it—without tingling lube, thankfully. But still...

"I know many of my guests will want to use your ass tonight, kitten," he said at her sigh of resignation. He spread her legs apart with his feet on the floor and landed a couple sharp slaps on her ass cheeks. "Open for Master."

She braced herself and pressed back against the toy as he drove it forward. He worked it in and out, slapping her ass again when it didn't slide in. Finally, with a numbing, aching burn, the plug popped in and her sphincter closed around the wide base. The flange rested between her ass cheeks, a reminder of her status and a visible humiliation.

"Here," he said, pointing to the place at the foot of the bed where he often left her tethered—the place easily visible from his camera. She knelt, feeling the fullness of the plug as she sat back on her ankles, a fullness that triggered a predictable low throb between her legs. He gathered his keys and cell phone and then stopped by his bookshelf of erotica in the corner. Molly had scanned the shelves the few times she'd had a free moment in his bedroom, finding many classics and many lesser known titles as well. He picked out a small book and placed it on the bed beside her.

"Some reading for you," he said with a smile. "Don't want you to be bored."

He sauntered off, not even looking back at her. Such freedom he enjoyed, and here she sat, leashed to a bed, bisected by a massive butt plug. She smiled to herself. She wouldn't have changed places with him for the world.