Free Molly's Lips: Club Mephisto Retold by Annabel Joseph Page B

stiff and sore tomorrow from tensing up her muscles for so long. Her ass still clenched around the candle, which was burning ever closer to her skin. She whined, pleading in the only way she could for his mercy, but he ignored her, continuing his patient assault on her horny, sex-starved little clit.
    A moment later, she jerked her hips, pulling away in a convulsive movement and making a horrible sad sound at the same time. No orgasm, only hot drops of wax. Ouch.
    “Good girl,” he said, brushing a hand down her back before pinning her still again. “Such an obedient slave. Your Master is pleased.”
    Was Clayton ever this cruel to her? Mephisto was sure he sometimes was. He let her rest and then fired the vibrator up again and made her endure the long dreadful climb to the apex she wasn’t permitted to reach, the long dreadful climb that would only bring more and more pain. He did it three, four more times. The last time she burst into tears. He was pushing it. He relented and turned off the vibrator, blew out the candle which had ended up being the perfect length. Perfect slave-torturing burn time.
    He undid the cuffs holding her ankles and then knelt on the bed behind her, rolling on a condom. He slid his knees under her and lifted her pelvis. Her ass still clenched around the candle...her pussy was slick, shiny...unsatisfied. Her clit jutted out as if to beg for attention. He avoided touching it, instead driving his cock into her pussy. He fucked her quick and rough, his fingers scraping at the wax. Occasionally he twisted the candle, driving it deeper in her ass and pulling it out again. He would have liked to fuck her a long time, but her clasping pussy and straining ass had him rutting without thought, without control. Within minutes he was driving deep in her with his last frenzied thrusts, and then satisfaction was exploding out of him. The satisfaction of mastering her. Hurting her and thrilling her. Not letting her come.
    He stayed still in her afterward, toying with the candle and stroking her back. She was relaxed now, overdosed on stimulation maybe, to the point where she seemed on the verge of sleep. He let her drowse as he rose to discard his condom, and then took her into the bathroom to peel the wax off all her luscious curves and clean her up again. She was dazed, pliable. Subspacey. “I’m very proud of you, kitten,” he said, pressing a kiss to her forehead. It had been her hardest challenge yet. Not only had she been denied her own pleasure, but she’d been forced to hurt herself in the course of doing so. At first it had angered her, clearly, but by the end she’d given in. Not for her. For him, for his pleasure.
    He decided to let her sleep beside him in his bed that night as a reward. He didn’t even put on the chastity belt, only used the wrist cuffs to fix her hands out of reach of her aching tingly parts. When he pulled her back against him, she melted into his arms. A conquered content slavegirl, sleepy and soft beside him...
    Maybe it wasn’t her he was rewarding. Maybe it was him.

The Fifth Day
     
    It felt strange to wake up beside her. Mephisto felt a delight tempered by guilt, like he was harboring stolen property. He had a thousand things to do, but he lay still beside her instead and studied her, the curve of her ear, the way her hair curled over her shoulder as she slept. She fit against him so naturally. In this quiet moment of repose he felt a strange psychic connection to her, but it was an unfounded one. That was the problem with him and Molly. Mephisto knew her to a point, and she knew him, but there were too many obscuring walls between them to really connect.
    At any rate, she wasn’t his to connect with. But now, with her helpless in sleep and snuggled against him, it was easy to forget. It was just the two of them in that moment, unexpectedly and tenuously tied together, rather than Master and slave. Master and slave was preferable because it was simple, clearly