Burn for You (Club Mephisto 2)

She swallowed hard, placing the last dish in the dish rack. “It hurt going in, Master. Very much. It only hurts a little now.”

“If you want my collar, you’ll have to let me hurt you whenever I want to. That’s something I require.”

“Yes, Master.”

“Do you want my collar, Molly?”

She turned to him, her eyes wide, her body open to him. “Oh, yes, Master. I want it more than anything on earth.”

He took her to the dungeon space next, fixed her to a spanking trestle with her ass in the air, legs spread and secured at ankle and knee so she couldn’t move. More nipple clamps, the chain between them wrapped beneath the apparatus so any jerks upward would result in a vicious yank. She spent another hour here, suffering for his pleasure. He beat her until her tears were real, until her cries grew desperate, and then he’d take a break, remove the clamps, let her think her ordeal was over, only to begin again once she calmed down. The lesson here: I’ll hurt you, sometimes very badly, but never beyond what you can take.

It fascinated Mephisto to watch her body process the pain, and to watch the processes of her mind as well. At the end, he added pleasure into the mix, removing the clamps for good and sliding a vibrating wand beneath her pussy. How quickly her misery transformed into bliss. He knew that for Molly misery and bliss were tethered together on a very short line. He picked up a cane and marked her with it, hitting her harder than she probably could have taken at the beginning of the hour. It was just hard enough to keep her burgeoning orgasm at bay. Every time she ground on the wand, he lashed her again. She’d howl and shudder, and seek the pleasure to help her endure the pain.

“Okay, enough,” he said, pulling the wand away mid-grind. Molly sobbed, her hips seeking solace that was no longer there. He gave her three more with the cane, accompanied by cries and yowls. By the last, she collapsed against the trestle, all pleasure fled from her body’s memory, chased out by burning agony. He put away the cane and stood back to study her nicely marked ass and thighs. Satisfied, he crossed to the front of her.

“Why does Master hurt you?” he whispered.

“Because you’re a sadist,” she answered shakily. “My pain brings you pleasure, Master.”

“That’s right. Anyone who wants my collar has to be a masochist. Are you a masochist, Molly?”

“Yes, Master.”

He slapped her fresh cane tracks. She threw her head back and made a desperate sound. “You want my collar?”

“Yes, Master. Please!”

Back to the bedroom. Unplugged, given a bathroom break. He put a swipe of tingling oil over her clit, ignoring her whispers for mercy, then tied her on her tummy with orders not to grind against the bed. He left her alone a while to struggle, to crave with her legs spread, her orifices open and needy. Surely she wished to grind her way to orgasm. Her body must want to take over at this point. It had to be a mind-over-matter thing for her. He could see the concentration on her face more than the tension in her body.

At last he approached again, knelt behind her and rolled on a condom. Even after the plug, her hole was a tight fit, but he pressed ahead nonetheless, slowly and firmly, and seated himself balls deep. Her fingers clenched the covers and a tear or two squeezed from her eyes as he fucked her roughly, mechanically. Another lesson. You’re my toy, my fuck doll when I want you to be. It’s not about you, it’s about my needs. She wasn’t crying from pain. She was crying from sexual frustration.

“I know,” he said as he drilled her. “I know you want to come, don’t you, baby?”

“Yes, Master.”

“If you want to wear my collar, you’ll only be allowed to come when I want you to. I might make you go weeks, months without orgasm. Do you still want to wear my collar, Molly?”

“Yes, Master.”

Mephisto chuckled inwardly. Her answer was a lot slower in coming that time. She was probably thinking, months? It was only an exaggeration on his part, but he was glad to know she believed him capable of such horrible depravity. A month, indeed. Five days had almost killed both of them last time he tried a denial regimen with her. Thinking back to those delicious scenes, to their erotic history, had him fucking hard and fast to a mind-splitting orgasm. Fireworks went off behind his eyes as he buried himself in her ass and pressed her sore cheeks together, savoring every inch of her tightness. He looked down at her, wondering how close she was to orgasm. One easy way to tell. He slid a finger down the front of her waist to her mons, almost to her clit, then stopped. She made a sound he didn’t think he’d ever heard a human make before. Yeah. Still pretty close.

He moved away to throw out his condom and untie her. She still looked hopeful, like now he might let her come, or give her the collar already, the collar she wanted so badly. Months without orgasm. Hm. He cleaned her up instead and led her to the cage in the corner, guided her in. “You know how this goes. On your back, legs spread. No touching, no coming.” He shut the door and locked it, holding her woebegone gaze. “Oh, and I expect you to think about one thing and one thing only until I return to you. Master’s cock filling your holes. Mouth, ass, pussy, whatever strikes your fancy, but that’s what I expect you to do. Do you understand me?”

Molly looked like she was about to start bawling. “Yes, Master. It will give me a lot of pleasure to think about your cock.”

“I hope so.”

He left her, pretending not to hear the long suffering sigh she exhaled as he walked away. Out in his office he watched her on cam, squirming, taking deep breaths in and out, but never once closing her legs. What a good girl. What a good slave, and all his.

After twenty minutes or so he couldn’t wait anymore. He grabbed the silver chain collar with its little “M” charm and returned to the bedroom. He hunkered down beside the cage, expecting perhaps irritation or agony, but her face lit up in a smile.

“I’ve been thinking about you, Master. Dreaming about you, waiting for you, and here you are.”

He could have switched the words around and they would have worked as well. I’ve been thinking about you, Molly. Dreaming about you, waiting for you, and here you are. My slave that I’ve waited for forever. Finally mine.

He pulled her out from the enclosure and covered her right there on the floor, nudging her knees open with his. His stomach slid against hers, his abs nestling against her softness. His arms braced on either side of her head, the collar still clasped in one hand. He pressed into her with a slow, deliberate pace, watching the delight and arousal in her features. He slid out again and she urged him forward with her hips, and then they were moving together in a frantic joining.

“Were you dreaming of me, kitten? As you were told?”

“Yes, Master. Oh God!” She sighed as he drove his hips against her, into her tightness and warmth.

“Did it feel as good as this?”

“No...no...Master...this feels almost too good.”

He chuckled. “Too good? Not too good for a little slavegirl who needs to come to please her Master. Twice at least.”

She ended up coming three times, over and over, as he fought to keep her contained under him. She twisted and bucked, her eyes alive as she gazed at him. He finally climaxed too, a thunderous orgasm triggered by her third vociferous one. They came to rest in a tangle of arms and legs. He stared down at her, brushing her locks out of her face. He couldn’t stop the smile that bloomed across his face.

“Okay, I believe you. You really do want my collar.”

Molly beamed back at him. “I want it forever. Master.” She added the Master when she remembered, but the forever was the word that echoed in his mind. Did he want this forever? It wasn’t fair to collar her otherwise. He knew Molly loved until death. Until after death, he amended, remembering her playing her violin for Clayton the day before. The silence of the cemetery had carried all her sweet words to him, although he didn’t intentionally eavesdrop.

“I love you, Molly,” he said to her. “I always will.” His fingers trembled a little on

the clasp. Once he clicked the small lock into place, she wouldn’t be able to get it off without his assistance. He fastened the collar around her neck, and that was that. Now, always. Forever. “It looks good on you,” he said softly.

She didn’t say anything, just touched the collar with a kind of reverence and then launched herself into his embrace.

*** *** ***

“Molly girl. Either get it in gear and get dressed, or you’ll be back on the trestle instead of having dinner. Our reservations are for seven. Sharp.”

Molly looked over her shoulder in the mirror at her Master. He looked fine in everyday clothes, but when he dressed up he really looked...sinful. Sinfully hot. She was torn now between staring at her beautiful new collar and staring at him, when what she really needed to do was dry her hair and finish getting ready to go out.

But oh...so beautiful. Her new collar was so beautiful. She hadn’t known what it would look like until he’d come striding into the room with it dangling from his fingertips. She couldn’t stop touching it now, it was so pretty and shiny and sleek. It had an “M” on it for Master, which she loved most of all.

“Focus, Molly.”

“Yes, Master.”