Marcus: A Black Lily Club Story

by Chelle

I give him a ten count then stalk out of the alley after him. The scent of fear and adrenaline easily marking his path. His erratic beating heart, calling me like a dinner bell. I find him curled up behind a rusty dumpster, grabbing him, I love the helpless look that crosses his pasty face. I strike, not giving him time to realize his end is upon him. The first pulse of coppery tasting life slides across my tongue, the adrenaline in his system making it all the sweeter to my beast’s palate. His heartbeat falters and slows, with every deep pull I take. A whimper escapes his lips as I take one last deep drink, his body going limp in my grasp.

  With my hunger sated, I take the body to the woods to burn it, taking no chances of having some half-cocked vampire running around town. There are rules in place about the changing of humans. No kill shall be left to chance.

  My feeding done for the night, I find myself hovering in the darkness outside Jasmine’s house. She is stunning siting in the sheer robe, her hair pulled up exposing the sweet curve of her neck. Her brow furrowed in concentration, studying the computer screen in front of her. I peer into the window, scanning the screen in front of her; she is flitting around BDSM sites, attempting to make a list. Her fingers pausing on the mouse, to grab a pen and scribble notes. She chews the pen between her perfect pouty lips; my cock pulsates in my pants, while visions of my shaft thrusting across her lips, float through my mind.

  The pull of the sunrise drags me from my obsession. I drift back to my home, vivid images of ruby red lips wrapped around my cock shuffling through my brain. . I climb into bed, letting sleep drag me under. I must rest, to continue Jasmine’s instruction into total submission.

  Chapter 3

  Saturday morning, I’m refreshed and giddy about tonight. I don’t have to open the store today. One of the perks about owning it, I don’t work weekends. There are some things I need to finish before my date tonight. After pouring a cup of coffee, I stroll to the computer to finish my list from last night.

  The unfinished document flashes across my screen, the crumpled papers discarded across the desk in a dishevelled pile.

  I have spanking, wax play, nipple clamps, possible canes, floggers, and even more questions, than ideas, at this point. Does he want me to submit sexually or be a slave? I’m not sure I can be a slave; I don’t want to give up my whole life or identity. He doesn’t seem like the type of person that wants to control my whole life, but I could be wrong. I print out the list, adding a reminder at the bottom regarding questions, punishable offenses, and degrees of punishment. One final check of the list and I decide it’s as good as it’s going to get. I feel much better about discussing this in a more non-threatening setting over dinner though. Hopefully he feels the same about me as I do him. Last night was amazing; I’ve never felt such a connection to a man before. I felt so safe with him even while bound and helpless to his every desire. Thoughts about last night cause my nipples to scrape against the satin material of my nightgown. The erotic memories of his tongue laving the tightened buds flash through my mind. I need to get a grip on my sexuality if I’m going to make it through dinner. I don’t know what it is about him; he has my libido in an uproar. I’ve never been this easily aroused before. Now, it’s only a matter of thinking about Marcus and my pussy begs to be filled. I need a good, long, and cold shower if I’m going to get anything accomplished today.

  Its six o’clock, he won’t be here for two more hours and I can’t wait to see him. The shower this morning didn’t help and I’ve been more turned on today than ever in my life. I opt for a simple skirt tonight with a light sheer black blouse, no panty hose. I hope I can maintain some form of restraint on my wild libido, so my outfit lasts through dinner. Marcus hasn’t claimed me, hell he hasn’t even said he wants to keep me, but I don’t want to disappoint him. I’ve read enough to know I’m not to make myself cum without permission. I’m not even sure that would help calm me down at this point.

  Two more hours to go before he shows up. I need a distraction, pacing around the house isn’t working. My skin so ultra sensitive, my nerves tingle with ever scrape of the silken material from my blouse. I’m so excited I can barely contain myself. I look in the mirror taking my hair down and fluffing the curls, again. This being the third time I’ve changed the hairstyle. I decide to sit down and do the store schedule for the next week, to get my mind off of the coming night, opting for mundane distractions.

  The ringing doorbell shocks me out of my work. I glance at the clock. “Oh my God.” I jump out of the chair, stumbling over my own feet. I lost track of time. “Just a minute!” I yell to the locked front door.

  I run to the bathroom, checking my hair and straightening my blouse. Okay, still presentable. I rush to the door, swinging it open, my ability to talk lost, at the picture of perfection before me. Dressed in all black, the scent of leather and sandalwood assault my senses, my libido responds, my clit swells thundering a rhythm of lust throughout my system. My nipples perk for attention, rubbing tantalizingly against the silken fabric of my shirt. I’m lost in the mesmerizing sea of warm amber and gold. A groan escapes my lips and I squeeze my thighs together to calm the pounding beat from my clit. The warmth in his golden gaze sears to my heart, scorching an undeniable path of emotions to my soul. Love is not a strong enough word to describe the feelings that flood me.

  “Would you like to come in?” I finally manage to get my brain to function enough to speak.

  He smiles, that predatory gaze on his face making my body burns for him to take me. I want him to throw me to the floor in my living room and ravage me. Right here, right now. No dinner. No rules. Whatever he wants to do I’ll let him as long as he takes me, slaking the fire in my body that only he has the ability to extinguish.

  “We have reservations at eight. I think we should head out.” The gleam in his eyes telling me, he knows exactly what I am thinking and agrees.

  He is definitely trying to make sure I know what I’m getting into. I appreciate the thought from him, even if my body is way ahead of my mind.

  He leads me to a limo parked at the curb of my street. Marcus opens the door, ushering me into the back seat. As he climbs in his knees brush against mine, the sparks rush from that contact straight to my clit, causing it to ripple in wanton abandon begging for him to touch it. I clutch my legs together trying to subdue the ache. He watches me intently, a knowing look on his face.

  “So, have you a chance to make a list?” He breaks the silence.

  It’s the opening I need to get my questions out before my body overrules my brain’s denial at being a slave.

  “Yes, I have some questions about what you expect. I mean I get sexual submission, but do you want some total slave that you are in control of?” I can’t make eye contact, afraid of the answer, but I need to know. The silence is deafening, looking up I meet his gaze.

  “No, I don’t want a slave. I value a woman’s opinions and her independence. However, I do expect total submission sexually. Is that what you need to know?” His tone is amused. I immediately relax, comfortable with where this is going.

  “Yes, that is what I need to know. It makes me feel so much better about this. I was a little afraid you would want control of everything in my life. I did a lot of reading last night and that kept making its appearance in the literature.” His eyes sparkle in the dim light of the car and his smile is warm and inviting. “I wasn’t sure exactly what you were looking for.”

  “Have you ever given total control of your pleasure over to another? Submitting to their desires and their control and just letting yourself go to enjoy the moment knowing they will take you places you’ve only imagined?” His voice pours over me like molten lava, my body heats in response, a low whimper slips from my mouth.

  I hadn’t considered the extents of pleasure a submissive received from letting go. To allow one to be free of constraints and just feel. The possibilities of that realization zip through my nervous system leaving a tingling wake of need.

  “No, I didn’t understand what th
e submissive received from this.” I am trying to be as honest as possible. “I thought it was merely focused on the control and power of the dominant party, for their pleasure.”

  He wants open, honest communication. I am determined to give it to him. Marcus knows I am new to this, hopefully my inexperience doesn’t offend him. Internet information isn’t always accurate.

  His smile is intoxicating as he leans over and whispers in my ear. His hot breath sending shivers down my spine.

  “Would you like to delve a little deeper into submission tonight? I can take you places beyond your wildest dreams.” His voice rolls across my senses, tempting me into his dark and seductive world.

  My breath comes out in a ragged shallow gasp. My heart speeds up hammering inside my chest. My pussy weeps and clenches begging for him to fill it.

  “Yes,” I barley sigh the word as it crosses my lips. The lure of his offer too enticing to deny.

  He kisses me gently with just the barest touch and my body ignites a fire burning in my loins for him to do more. I sway against him, needing the contact of our bodies. The car stops, alerting me to our arrival at the restaurant. Marcus flashes an insightful grin, as he helps me from the car. I take a deep breath as we enter the restaurant getting my libido under some semblance of control.

  Marcus orders a bottle of red wine to compliment our meals at dinner. Our reservations are at a corner booth, providing privacy and a romantic ambiance.

  “Do you have any other concerns you want to discuss?” He pours the wine into the glasses, sliding one across the table to me.

  “I would like to talk about punishable offenses.” I gulp the wine down, refusing to meet his eyes.

  “What exactly do you want to know about them?”

  “I need to know, I guess what you consider punishable?” I fumble with the silverware on the table to hide my shaking fingers.

  “That would depend upon the type of agreement that was reached in the discussion stage.” He reaches across taking my hand in his stroking his thumb across my pulse.

  “The submissive has a say in it?” I look into his eyes.

  “Yes, each relationship is different, so the people involved can discuss what is best for them.”

  “What do you consider punishable?” I lower my gaze, hiding the flaming blush creeping into my cheeks.

  “I think a blatant disregard for the rules agreed upon, being unusually bratty, or even disrespectful to your partner are reasons for discipline.”

  “Oh. So even the rules are discussed before hand?” I raise my eyebrow in a believing stare, “ I thought the dominants were in control?”

  The waiter arrives with our diners, momentarily interrupting my interrogation of Marcus’s lifestyle. The marinated steaks and steamed greens fill the booth with an enticing aroma. The meal is perfectly prepared, but my body refuses to focus on anything other than the way the fork disappears in his lips. The way his long elegant fingers sensually wrap around the stem of the wine glass. His rich and vibrant laugh sends tingles through my body.

  “Is there anything else you would like to know, Jasmine?” He slips a spoon into the decadent desert on the table.

  “I was wondering what kinds of items you use for discipline?” I stifle a moan as he feeds me bites of the dark chocolate mouse.

  “It would depend on the severity of the infraction.” He slips the spoon into my mouth again.

  I close my eyes, savoring the creamy sweet chocolate, as it melts across my tongue, “mmm I see.”

  “So my sweet, are you ready to delve a little deeper tonight? His voice as rich as desert, sends a torrent of anticipation through my body.

  It is the longest dinner I’ve ever attended. My body screams for him to take me. The light contact of our hands fan the flames of desire burning through my body. The end of dinner can’t come fast enough with the question he asked echoing through my mind. Dinner comes to an end and the driver takes us to the club. Marcus leads me to a back entrance, up the elevator, to his private floor. We enter into a spacious open floor plan living room. The carpet is black and thick with sleek leather couches arranged around a stone fireplace. It’s masculine and streamlined, much like the man himself. There are hints of chrome that keep the place looking modern and not too dark. The room smells of leather, my body heats in remembrance of the night before. He ushers me down the hall stopping outside of the bedroom entrance way.

  “What is your safe word? Do you remember it?”

  “Yes, it’s belladonna.” I nod to him. How can I forget anything about last night?

  Smiling at my answer he leads me into the bedroom. There doesn’t seem to be anything threatening in here. The bed is an antique wooden four-poster, with chocolate velvet curtains hanging around the posts, tied back with teal braided cords. The duvet, a rich coffee and the pillows complement in a soft sand tone. It’s warm and inviting. Marcus leads me to stand in front of the bed, bending down he removes my shoes. The carpet is plush and soft under my feet as I curl my toes into the thickness of it. The butterflies have taken up root in my stomach again, more anticipation than nerves. Marcus starts to remove my clothes, unbuttoning my blouse, his tongue caressing each inch of skin he reveals. Patient, refusing to be rushed through anything.

  My body is on fire. My slit is leaking. I can no longer contain the moans in my throat as his mouth finds my nipple through the thin lace bra. My hands rise involuntarily to his hair. God, it is soft as silk. I hold his head to my breast. Abruptly he stands, no longer touching me. The cool air surrounds my heated flesh causing a shiver to slither up my spine.

  “No hands.” He moves to the closet at the far side of the room, returning with a black blindfold in hand, much like the one he used before. In his other hand he also holds two sets of cuffs. He places the blindfold on my eyes and slowly peels the remaining articles of clothing from my body, stroking each area of skin that is revealed. Marcus guides me to the bed, lays me down, lifts my arms, and secures my wrists in the cuffs now attached to the headboard. The ankles are next, to be restrained. I’m completely naked and spread eagle in his bed. Last I’d seen he’s still dressed. I’m utterly exposed.

  ***

  A prefect beauty, naked on display, my sweet Jasmine, she looks like a sacrifice to a hungry God. I’m that God. My fangs are fully extended and my cock is pushing against my jeans. I lean down, running my tongue across the pulse of her neck, down to her collarbone. The moan it elicits from her is pure ecstasy. I could feast on her all night, but tonight is about her submission. Her learning to let go and the pleasures I can bring her. Taking her nipple into my mouth I lave the bud with my tongue, kneading her other breast, she tosses her head back and forth. Jasmine arches her back, pushing her nipple farther into my mouth. I pinch the other and bite down at the same time on the one in my mouth. She hisses a breath through clenched teeth as a ragged moan tumbles from her lips. I trail soft kisses down her stomach to her waiting pussy. Pain a welcome addition to her senses, she’s glistening with arousal. I lick her pussy, savoring the flavor of her that is purely feminine, nectar to the gods. She thrusts her hips up trying to get me to lick her clit. Expertly avoiding what she wants the most, I nibble my way around, but never where she yearns for it.

  She trembles in her craving of release. It’s a magnificent sight to behold, but we need to go further than restraints tonight. Going to the dresser, I pull out a set of nipples clamps and a deerskin flogger. Tonight is about pushing her boundaries. Jasmine’s breathing has returned to normal when I sit on the edge of the bed.

  “I’m going to put few decorations on you now.” My voice, sounding calmer than I am.

  I lean over her, taking a nipple back into my mouth, I suck it into a tight little nub. Once it has tensed to attention I slip the clamp around it, sliding the edges up until she grimaces. Then loosen it just a little. I don’t want her in intolerable pain, but wanting her nipples in a constant state of stimulation. The same treatment goes to the other nipple, she groans under t
he on slot of sensation. Her breath quickens, each ragged intake causing the twinkling of the bells on the end of the clamps. A sheen of sweat breaks out across her body, causing her to glow in the dim room light. The smell of her arousal permeates my senses. I watch as she adjusts to the new sensations, the flush of arousal creeping over her skin.

  I run the flogger softly over her legs and belly, enjoying the way she trembles under the touch. Not out of fear, I would smell that. She writhes on the bed, searching for the next touch, it’s a beautiful sight. I bring the flogger down harder across her thighs. She gasps, but doesn’t retract from the touch. Her slit dripping with her juices. I flog her again this time across her breast. A moan breaks from her throat as she arches towards me. The twinkling of the bells and her gasping breathe the only sounds in the room. Reaching into the bedside drawer I pull out the small vibrator I place it in her pussy, turning it one and continue to flog her across her breasts. The reddened welts rising across her olive skin cause my shaft to strain against my jeans.

  I strike her harder with the flogger until she is covered in welts from her breasts to the tops of her thighs. Goosebumps break out on her; she is shaking in her need. She continues to toss her head back and forth on the pillow, her pleading erratic.

  I reach down and stroke her clit. Her pussy clenches on the vibrator, her moan strokes me all the way to my balls. She is on the edge. I work her clit in small circles, her body tightens as her pussy spasms on the vibrator. Her pussy gushing it’s juices seeping down her thighs as she comes. I free my aching cock. Pulling the vibrator from her, I slam myself deep in her rippling passage. I bury myself balls deep in her slick hot channel, pinching her clit, sending her spiraling into another quivering orgasm.

  “Oh God, Marcus, please, I need…” Her voice trailing off as I pull out and ram home again.

  Her pussy brands me, coating me in her juices. Her body quakes in hunger. I jerk the nipple clamps off, pushing her breasts together, sucking the swollen buds into my mouth. She’s almost there again, her pussy gripping my cock. I grasp her hips slamming into her over and over. I sit up and lean back, pulling her hips off the bed as far as the restraints allow, every thrust stroking across her g-spot.