Read Online Molly's Lips: Club Mephisto Retold by Annabel Joseph - Free Book Online

lied through his teeth that Molly had had an orgasm, Mephisto decided to play along. He turned hard, accusing eyes on her.
    Molly was devastated, shaking her head with all the insistence she could muster. Her lips trembled helplessly with the need to defend herself. When Mephisto dragged her into the dungeon, she finally blurted out, “He’s lying! I don’t know why, but he’s ly—”
    Mephisto clapped a hand over her mouth and pulled her close. “You’re on speech restriction, bad girl. Who gave you permission to talk?”
    It was a cruel, cruel thing to do, but he was allowed to be cruel to her. She burst into tears as Jamie helped Mephisto cuff her to the St. Andrew’s Cross with her back exposed. What a lying piece of shit Jamie was, but his petty jealousies were one more trial to lie at Molly’s willing feet. There was a certain melodrama to it all. She collapsed at the first lick of the lash, her legs going from under her. He’d seen her take whips just fine from Clayton, so her struggling and misery undoubtedly stemmed from the injustice of her situation. Mephisto knew he should be beating Jamie right now, not Molly. Jamie knew it, and Molly too. But sometimes, power exchange was about poking a cornered animal until you found the point where it snapped.
    “Up,” Mephisto ordered, landing another one on the outside of her flank. She struggled, she fought, but Mephisto continued, determined to subdue her. After twenty minutes or so he had Jamie turn her around. The look she gave the man...such vitriol. Such hatred in those eyes. Mephisto paused, entranced. There she was. That was the Molly he remembered, right there.
    She was still there.
    He lifted the whip to her again, tormenting licks and stripes. It was the continued assault that broke her down, not the pain of any one strike. She screamed, she sobbed, jerking in her bonds as he flicked fiery pain on belly, thighs, nipples, breasts. In between screams, she sobbed, and then she fell silent, closing her eyes. Finally, submission. But he didn’t want it, not now, when he’d seen the other Molly hiding in there.
    “Look at me!”
    Her eyes snapped open, moved to Jamie and fixed on him with that same terrible anger. Leave it to Jamie to get aroused by that. He was fisting his cock, enjoying the violence. But he’d given up his last chance at pleasure with this stunt.
    “Look at me,” Mephisto barked again to Molly.
    She stared in his eyes and held his gaze as he flicked the whip again, a sting on each breast. She’d cried so much her face was ashen, glowing. Then he saw her relax and let it all go. He let it go too, and let the whip fall still. Enough. He went to the wall to hang it up and get a set of clamps. When he came back she was watching him, not angrily, not sadly. Just resigned. He wiped her face with his palms and subdued the impulse to kiss her. Instead he applied the clamps to his slave’s tits and clitoris with businesslike detachment and left her hanging there.
    “Come,” he said to Jamie. His friend loped behind him to the bedroom. Once inside, Mephisto took a swing at him that sent him to the floor. Jamie hissed in protest, but wisely stayed down.
    “Don’t ever, ever lie to me again,” Mephisto said.
    Jamie held his face, staring up at him with the same anger Molly had turned on him before. “Who gives a shit?” he said. “It seemed to serve your purposes. She’s just a fucking slavegirl, right?”
    “Never lie to me again,” Mephisto repeated. “Whether it serves my purposes or not. It makes you look small, Jamie. Really small. And I don’t like you that way.”
    Later, after Jamie left, Mephisto went to face her, his silent martyr. His miserable slave. As he stood and watched her, she started to cry again, horrible emotionless tears. She was still in there. Molly. The old Molly. That was the force, the power she subsumed to serve the man she loved. Mephisto wanted to go on his knees before her. He wanted to worship