Burn for You (Club Mephisto 2)

“I miss him so badly,” she choked out. “I miss him so much.”

She felt a touch on her back, just a soft brush of fingers. She turned to Mephisto and buried her face against his arm.

“I didn’t mean those things I said about him before. I’m just lost, and angry. I miss him. I feel like I’m going to die.”

“I know,” Mephisto said softly. “I can see how much you miss him.”

“I know he loved me. And I loved him so much. And now...now I just don’t see how to go on. I don’t know what to do with myself, where to go in my life. I don’t want to be anyone else’s slave.”

“You don’t have to be.”

“But... But...” She started bawling like an idiot. “I kind of do. I miss being taken care of. I’m so lonely. And so stupid and needy.” All the words came spilling out along with the tears soaking Mephisto’s shoulder. He put his arms around her and squeezed her, his warmth so familiar and comforting.

“It’s not stupid to feel needy. Not right now. Of course you feel needy. Clayton knew you would feel this way, and he worried very much about it. We talked about it many times.” He leaned back to brush her damp hair from her eyes. “He knew you very well.”

“Why did he leave me?” The question came out a ragged wail, while Molly cried into the wall of Mephisto’s chest. “Why? Why, why?” No matter how many times she asked it, no reasonable answer was forthcoming. Mephisto offered no reassurances, no platitudes, just a steadily beating heart against her ear. Molly cried until her eyes burned and her lungs hurt and then she fell into a kind of stupor, just drifting, feeling secure and safe for the first time in a long time in the circle of Mephisto’s arms.

“I should have been there for you before now,” he whispered. “I promised Clay.”

Molly sniffled and sat up, rubbing her eyes. “It was my fault. Choices I made.” Her lips twisted into a quavery smile. “You should have put me in the bad girl cage last night.”

“I might have, if I wasn’t so afraid you’d hurt yourself. You scared me. You freaked me out.”

She gazed into his eyes, so intent with concern. “I’m sorry, Mephisto. For this craziness. For dragging you into my issues.”

“No, I’m glad you dragged me into them. Will you let me help you? Help you find happiness again?”

Any thought of Mephisto and help always triggered confused, guilty feelings in her. She tensed and drew away from him, needing space, but his hands tightened on her.

“No. Not like that. I know you don’t want that. Let me help you, no strings attached. Let me help you as a friend.”

“How?”

“By bringing a little structure to your life. I understand you’re not into fetish anymore, so I won’t offer any kind of BDSM dynamic. But I would like to take care of you for a while. Help you get back on track.”

Molly knew Mephisto. She knew what his offer meant. “You think I need control. Someone to control me.”

He raised a shoulder, tilting his head to the side with a small smile. “Control is such an aggressive word. Let me manage you for a while.”

Manage. That was a slightly less loaded word. She dropped her head to the table, thunking her forehead. Mephisto sighed. She looked up again, grabbing her hair in fistfuls.

“Why am I like this?” she moaned. “Why can’t I just take care of myself like a normal person?”

“You can. You’re here, aren’t you? You found your way here even half out of your mind.”

“But why?”

“Why is the earth round, Molly? Why is the sky blue? Who the fuck knows why? Who cares? If you need to feel managed to survive for a while, then be managed. Don’t break yourself into pieces over it.”

“But it’s not normal!”

“By whose compass? What scale of normalcy are you judging yourself by? Margaret Kearney’s scale? Gloria Steinem’s? Dr. Phil’s? The only scale you should be using is your own.”

“My scale says I’m batshit crazy.”

“Mine does too, at the moment. But you’ve known peace. Give yourself some time to figure out what you crave, what will fulfill you. What will make your world bright again. Accept yourself as you are and don’t worry about what anyone else thinks.” He leaned close to her, taking her hands, perhaps in some attempt to keep her from twisting her hair out of her head. “You’re feeling shame for who you are, and it pains me. These are the same shame-based issues that drove you to become self-destructive before. I don’t know where it comes from, but I know it’s not good for you.”

Shame. The bane of her life. Even now, shame covered her like a cloak. It kicked her between the legs, over and over. She looked down at her hands entwined with Mephisto’s, pale white and warm brown fingers interlaced. He gazed into her eyes. “You have nothing to be ashamed of, you know.”

“That’s because you accept me as I am. Because you understand me.”

He took a deep breath as the words she’d said echoed around and around in her head. Clayton, her husband, her Master, her love... He’d begun trying to bring Molly and Mephisto together even before he died. Because of this. Because Mephisto understood her, because he didn’t judge her or make her feel shamed and worthless for wanting to live under the dominion of a man.

And because Mephisto was safe.

“Please help me,” she said. Her voice cracked and the tears started again, but Mephisto didn’t let go of her hands. “I...I don’t know yet what I want. I don’t know how much control I want.”

“Of course you don’t. I understand that.”

“I can’t promise... I can’t give you anything yet. I mean, some, but not very much. I just don’t know...”

He let go of her hand to stroke her face. His fingers slid through her tears, warm and reassuring. “It’s okay not to know. Let’s forget about the future and just take care of now. We’ll take things slow and keep them nonsexual. I’ll only provide the structure, the authority you miss.”

“Can you do that?” she asked through tears. “Can people exchange power and have it not be sexual?”

“Sure they can.”

“You would do that for me?”

He gazed at her for a long moment. “Molly, I would do almost anything for you. You have to realize that by now. But I’ll need you to stay here with me to make this work. You’ll be clothed, there won’t be any sexual expectations. You’ll be taking care of yourself as much as possible, but I still want you here where I can keep track of you.”

She tensed. “In the cage?”

“In the guest room.” He paused. “Unless you wig out of your brain again, but that better not happen. No drugs, Molly. No alcohol, unless I allow it. This is not negotiable.”

Molly blushed under his direct regard. “I can live without that stuff. I’m actually tired of being so out of control.”

“Control, management, supervision, whatever. I’m happy to give it to you if it will help. We’ll go over to Clayton’s today to get whatever you might need to feel at home here. Your clothes and things.”

The easy authority in his voice was like a familiar coat wrapping around her. Molly swallowed hard and settled into the security she’d been missing for weeks now.

“Yes, sir,” Mephisto provided quietly when she didn’t respond.

“Yes, sir,” Molly said.

Chapter Four: Management

Molly stalled at the door to the home she and Clayton had shared. Mephisto figured it would be bad, considering she couldn’t meet his gaze. “I’m sure you have things you need to do,” she said. “I can pack for myself. I’ll take a cab back to your place.”

“Open it.”

It wasn’t a request, but a command. Molly sighed and bent over the lock while Mephisto stared down at the bruises on the back of her neck. They were worst there, since she’d pulled and tugged the collar forward, God knew for how long. Since she’d decided it was shameful and disgusting to be a slave, he supposed. There was no guarantee she wouldn’t feel that way again a

few hours from now. Tomorrow. Next week. But he’d do what he could to keep that from happening.