Burn for You (Club Mephisto 2)

“In handcuffs and in chains,” a voice suggested from the back of the group. Laughter broke out as Lorna glared at the culprit.

“Let’s respect the sanctity of this moment”—she arched one threatening brow—“or I’ll be breaking out the handcuffs and chains, and you won’t like it.”

The ceremony concluded with no further outbursts, although Mephisto and Molly exchanged quite a few soft chuckles at Mistress Lorna’s additions and ad-libs. As long as they were legally married, Mephisto didn’t care what else they swore to each other. Whips, chains, chastity belts? It was all good.

They descended afterward on the club, to eat, drink, and watch everyone else play in a bacchanalian celebration of their union. They played a little too, with great caution. As it turned out, it was the last real play they did. Molly moved into her eighth month shortly afterward. Their appointments came more frequently. The doctor warned them to dial back the intensity of any scenes they did, but Mephisto was so afraid of harming her or the baby that he called a hiatus on play altogether until after the birth.

They still hung out in the club. In a way, watching and admiring the pleasure of others became a way for them to remain sexually close, even into her ninth month. The people they watched didn’t mind, and he and Molly got to share in their ecstasy—and collect ideas. He would have liked to play with Molly, sure, but she could barely move, much less submit to a crop or flogger. He rubbed her lower back as she perched beside him near the spanking bench. A very noisy, very arousing scene was unfolding between a slick young dom and his lithe submissive—exhibitionists both.

Mephisto nudged her with a shoulder as they drank in the interaction. “Do you miss it?”

Molly tilted her head to the side, watching the sub’s sinuous struggles. “You mean the spanking? Or having a waistline like that?”

Mephisto laughed and took her hand. “Oh, you’ll get your waist back, kitten. I think you miss the playing more.”

“God, yes, Master.” She sighed in resignation. “I’d give anything just to wear a pair of nipple clamps right now.”

He pitched his voice low and leaned close to speak in her ear. “I’ll give you all the nipple clamps you want, very soon, girl. All you can bear,” he added, arching one eyebrow.

She squeezed his hand, giving a little shudder. “Don’t tease me, please, Master. That’s just cruel.”

He gave her a fortifying smile. “You love cruelty, my little maso. Don’t worry, it won’t be long now before we can get back to it.”

“Mm,” said Molly. “I thought the doctor said we had to wait at least six weeks.”

“Six weeks is nothing. I lusted after you for years, Molly. I can do six weeks.”

Poor Molly, sitting everything out. It meant he sat out too, even though she’d mustered up the courage last week to suggest he take on a temporary slave until she could serve him again. He’d slapped her on the ass and locked her in the cage until she felt better. She was otherwise doing pretty well. She was ready for childbirth, cocky about it even. “I love pain,” she’d told him. “Labor will be nothing to me.”

Mephisto wasn’t so sure. Well, about the labor part anyway. He was definitely sure about her loving pain. Her lips were a little pinched, and her jaw seemed to tighten in response to the sexy, intense scenes around them. He kissed her on the side of the neck. “Don’t be too sad, kitten. Our day will come again.”

Molly shifted to pull him closer, one hand cradling her distended waist. “No... I’m not sad, Master. I’m a little uncomfortable. I think I might be in labor.”

Mephisto blinked. “What? What?!” Don’t panic. You’re the Master, you’re in charge. Be cool. “Are you— How long—?” He squeezed her shoulders, probably much too hard. Okay, not exactly cool.

“It’s okay, Master,” Molly said quickly. “I’m fine. I’m barely feeling the contractions.”

“Being in labor is not the time to brag about your pain tolerance!” he yelled.

Molly looked at him like he was nuts. “No, what I mean is they’re not that strong yet. I mean, they haven’t been. I didn’t think it was the real thing. But now...they’re starting to get more intense.”

“Why didn’t you tell me when they first started? How long has this been going on?”

“A few hours now, Master. But it’s Friday night…and the club’s so busy... Labor can last for twelve hours or more.”

He took her chin in his fingers and glared at her. “I’ll beat you for this later. I really think I will.”

“If you believe I deserve punishment, Master, I’ll happily—”

“Oh God,” Mephisto snapped, looking to the heavens for sanity. “Save it. Please. Darling...” He softened his voice. “When was your last contraction?”

Her mouth tightened. “I’m having one right now.”

“Is it bad? I mean, on the scale of a non-masochistic person?”

“Um...this one is actually pretty bad, Master. Even for me.” She opened her mouth and started panting quietly. Mephisto let out a long slow breath. “Holy fuck me. Okay. This is why we have your bag all packed. I’ll call Dr. Willetts. Wait here.”

The kinksters around them were starting to notice something was going on. Probably from the way Molly was gripping her belly and bending over at the waist.

“This dungeon is not equipped for childbirth, even if it has a medical table and stirrups,” Mephisto warned as he ran to the back to grab her bag. By the time he returned, one of the bouncers was waiting with Molly by the door. On the way across the play space, he corralled Lorna by one arm.

“I need you.”

“Asking first is nice.”

“Lorna, please come with us. She doesn’t have a mother to be here. She needs a woman with her, a woman who’s been through this before.”

Lorna eyed Molly. Mephisto could sense her softening even as she turned to glare at him, lips pursed. “I’m not a mommy, Master Mephisto, as you know. I’m a Mistress.”

Mephisto shrugged, drawing her along. “Fortunately, she responds to that too.”

*** *** ***

Molly was placid even in excruciating pain. Mephisto, though, was about to jump out of his skin. She was suffering so badly, and the contractions were close together now. Molly would screw her eyes shut and whimper thr

ough each one, making tiny huffing noises of panic, each one like a stab in his heart. “Why don’t you just take something, kitten?”

“It’s almost over,” she gasped. “It’s okay, I can do it.”

“This isn’t a test. You don’t have to prove anything to anyone.”

“Yes I do,” she said with a surprising amount of heat, before collapsing back in exhaustion. “I have to prove something to myself.”

Mistress Lorna glowered from the corner. “Just make her, Mephisto. You’re the Master, aren’t you?” she added with a hint of derision.

Yes, he was the Master, but in this... He shook his head. “She’s the one in labor. Not me.”

Lorna sauntered over and leaned down to fix Molly in her stern gaze. “Take the drugs, girl. Have an epidural. Why don’t you do it for your Master’s peace of mind, instead of being so selfish?”

“It might hurt the baby,” Molly gasped.

“Where did you hear that? Poppycock.” Mephisto stifled a smile at Lorna’s blustering, while Molly’s wide eyes took in the domme’s threatening glare. There was a reason this woman could subdue even the most intransigent male slaves. “Get an epidural now and you can enjoy the rest of the birth in peace with your Master. Or keep being stubborn. I’ve been where you are, Molly. It only gets worse. Pretty soon those contractions will be coming right on top of each other, with no time to rest in between.”

“Holy hell.” Mephisto turned on his heel. “I’m going for a nurse. I’ll be right back.”

The nurse returned with him a minute later, smiling brightly. “Mr. Tennant tells me you’re ready to order an epidural.”

“Yes, ma’am,” Molly answered meekly. Good girl. A few minutes later he was standing in front of her, bracing her while she whined through another contraction. She sucked in a breath as the anesthesiologist poked at her back.

“Does it hurt?” he asked.

“The epidural, no. The contraction?” She whimpered again. “Yes, it really hurts.”

Her soft “it really hurts” was the equivalent of a tortured scream from an average woman.