Club Mephisto
“She always fought not to look up. She had been trained to let him acknowledge her when and if he wished it. He almost always acknowledged her, but she was trained to wait.
Mrs. Jernigan took his briefcase and coat as always and bustled away with them. He reached down then and placed two gentle fingers on the side of her face. She suppressed the sigh of joy, the shiver that threatened to shake her each time he did this. His fingers trailed lower, beneath her chin, and tilted her face up. She stared at her Master—tall, blond, with blue eyes that sparkled with fondness and challenge. She couldn't suppress an ecstatic grin.
"Lovely girl." He smiled back at her. "Did you miss me?" "Yes, Master! Oh, I missed you so much. Welcome home." "How was your day?" Molly told him an abbreviated version—which books she'd read, when she'd exercised, when she'd rested, when Ms. Bobo had come by. He listened with absorption. These were her moments, the moments he unselfishly gave her each day before he d...emanded she give herself over to his needs.MoreLess
Mrs. Jernigan took his briefcase and coat as always and bustled away with them. He reached down then and placed two gentle fingers on the side of her face. She suppressed the sigh of joy, the shiver that threatened to shake her each time he did this. His fingers trailed lower, beneath her chin, and tilted her face up. She stared at her Master—tall, blond, with blue eyes that sparkled with fondness and challenge. She couldn't suppress an ecstatic grin.
"Lovely girl." He smiled back at her. "Did you miss me?" "Yes, Master! Oh, I missed you so much. Welcome home." "How was your day?" Molly told him an abbreviated version—which books she'd read, when she'd exercised, when she'd rested, when Ms. Bobo had come by. He listened with absorption. These were her moments, the moments he unselfishly gave her each day before he d...emanded she give herself over to his needs.MoreLess
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