Marcus: A Black Lily Club Story

by Chelle

  The light by the end table flicks on, illuminating a sphere of carpet in front of the couch. All I can see of Marcus are leather encased legs and shiny black shoes, the rest of him remains hidden in the shadows.

  I inch my way slowly into the room, my heart racing in my chest. My slit, dripping with arousal.

  “Stop.” His command, freezing me in place. “Strip.”

  I shed my clothes, with trembling fingers. I can’t see his face, but his voice pours over my heated body.

  “Present.”

  After I remove the last of my clothes, I drop to my knees in front of him. I assume the position he requests, on my knees, legs spread, hand resting on my thighs palms up. I raise my chin and lower my eyes, racking my brain to make sure this is the correct position.

  The flicker in my peripheral vision alerts me to his movements. I strain to stay still and not fidget. I’ve learned so much from him in our time together. I enjoy the look of approval that flashes in his eyes, when I please him.

  The cool leather encases my wrist, then my ankles. My body hums with delight. The thin strap he places around my neck sends a shiver down my spine. The clicking of a clasp and I feel a tug. Marcus has leashed me.

  “Stand, pet, we are going to the dungeon.”

  I stand on trembling legs. He’s never taken me to the dungeon. There are other people down there. He pulls me closer to him the scent of sandalwood and pine fills me head.

  “Are you going to be a good girl?

  I nod an affirmative. My voice lodged in my throat. The fire races through my system, burning a path of fear through me. I’m not ready for this.

  “I need a vocal answer pet.” He jerks my head upright, forcing me to meet his gaze.

  “Yes.” It’s a raspy whisper. Sir, may I ask why we are going to the dungeon?”

  “You may ask, but that doesn’t mean I’ll give you an answer. I’m your Master and I choose where we play. Do you understand?”

  “Yes Sir.” I lower my eyes.

  “Good. Let’s go.” Marcus heads into the elevator dragging me along behind him leashed like an animal.

  The air in the elevator is oppressing, claustrophobic. My mind is racing and I can’t focus. My breath coming in short ragged gasps. Oh god, I’m going to hyperventilate. My heart is skipping beats, my skin is clammy, the sweat trickles down my back, making me shiver.

  Marcus pulls me up next to him. “Relax, you can do this. What are the rules?’

  I take a deep breath, racking my brain trying to remember. “ Don’t speak unless spoken to, eyes lowered at all times, obey your commands without questions, and if things are too intense use my safe word or say red.”

  His smile calms me. It’s the first one he has given me all night. His approval washes over me instilling a serenity that was lacking before.

  The ding of our arrival draws my attention to the widening doorway. The bass from the music thrums through my core, vibrating my bones. The smell of sex and the moans of ecstasy encompass my being. The yank on the leash pulls my attention back to the present. Marcus leads me out into the dungeon, trailing behind him like a lost little puppy. He stops to talk with several patrons while he makes his way around the bar. I’m bored and feeling a little put out. I click my fingers against the D-ring on the leather cuffs, the tink tink sound giving me something to focus on.

  The hard jerk on the leash causes me to tumble into Marcus’s back, the scowl on his face, chilling me to my core. He has never looked at me like that before. Always the loving dominant. I don’t think I like being in the club.

  He leads me to the corner of the room, laying me on the medical exam table. The click of he cuffs echoes in my ears. I’m immobile besides my head. Marcus raises the stirrups, so my legs are spread wide and my feet are in the air. Anyone walking by the foot of the table can see everything I have on display.

  I can look left, right, or straight up. Above my head are the punishment cages. The site sending shivers up my spine. Most the cages are empty, but two hold people inside. The two occupied ones have been lowered to four feet off the floor, so anyone walking by can poke and pinch the people inside.

  Marcus moves into my line of site, blocking my vision of the offending cages, I’m lost in the amber depths of his eyes. He rubs the pads of his thumbs over my nipples, working them into tight buds. My slit clenches in need. He moves his hands to the back of my head, dropping that part of the table, my vision filled with the outline of his cock, straining against his leathers. Marcus unzips his pants, freeing his raging hard on. The slit glistening with precum.

  He rubs the head over my lips and I obediently open my mouth allowing him access. He thrusts himself past my lips, to the back of my throat. I gag, gasping for breath that isn’t there. He pulls out and thrusts back in. My throat burns, my eyes shed tears that leak into my hair. Marcus grabs the dampened strands and pulls my head harder onto his cock. I can’t breathe.

  “Relax.” He twines his fingers harder into my hair, jerking my head onto his shaft. “Open your throat, let me in.”

  Easy for him to say, he can breathe. I grab a breath as he pulls out. The tears are streaming down my face now. I try to relax and he pushes further into my throat.

  He pulls his cock from my throat and move from my line of site. Marcus leaves my head hanging down so all I can see is the wall behind me. The sharp smack of the cane across my thighs pulls a hiss from my lips.

  “Damn it.” I strain to get my head up to see him.

  The glare I am met with stills my heart. Shit, it’s the only word that comes to mind. I’m not supposed to talk.

  Marcus unhooks the cuff from the table, jerking me up by my hair. I topple forward losing my balance, he pulls harder on my hair until I am upright. My scalp is screaming in denial of this abuse.

  “What did you say?” He jerks my head up to gaze into his hard cold eyes.

  My body shivers in fear and I retract from him, cowering. “I, uh, it slipped.”

  “ You broke the first rule of being in the club.” His anger radiates off him in waves.

  Marcus drags me over to the wall, and lowers one of the unoccupied cages.

  “Please, Marcus, don’t do this. Please, it was an accident.” My heart skipping beats in my chest. God, not the cages.

  “What did you call me?” His voice so cold and hard, like a strangers.

  “I, damn it, Sir, I’m sorry.” I lower my eyes, unable to stare into the frozen sea of amber any longer.

  Marcus is so cold and detached it’s like being with a different person. He’s never been like this since we first met. He’s always so loving, even if he was demanding submission. He opens the cage door and tosses me inside.

  “I will be back in twenty minutes. Can you possibly figure out how to behave in that amount of time?” He turns and stalks out of the room leaving me naked with a dungeon full of strangers.

  The men in the room lurk around these cages, poking and prodding the woman inside. A burly looking man saunters up to my cage. I cringe away trying to get out of reach, but there isn’t any room to move. He pinches my nipples through the bars, drawing a gasp of pain from my lips.

  “Do you like that slut?” He slides his beady gaze down my body.

  He reaches farther in running his fat sausage fingers across my slit. My body shudders in disgust. He smiles a dirty yellow-toothed smile.

  “Oh, did you like that? You are a dirty little whore.” He moves closer, reaching in again, pawing at my slit.

  I’m not into humiliation or name-calling, I can’t take much more of this. If mister grubby is going to be here for the whole twenty minutes I’ll never make it.

  “Hey Steve, did you find a dirty little slut we can play with?” Man number two swaggers over, sloshing beer out of his cup.

  He steps in behind the cage, pawing at my ass through the bars. Steve as his friend called him, still rubbing his hand across my slit. The man behind me sticks his finger through the cage, wiggling it around my asshole. W
hile Stevey boy tries to jam his fat fingers in my pussy.

  I can’t take any more; my face is burning with embarrassment. I look around spying the dungeon monitor. “Red, red, red,” I kick the side of the cage Stevey boy is on and he jumps back. The dungeon monitor runs over to my cage.

  “Where is your dominant?” He looks around trying to determine who I belong to.

  “Don’t worry about it, I said red, now let me out of here. Find me a robe, so I can go home.” I shove hard against the side of the cage wall again, making it sway on its chain.

  “Okay, little lady just calm down.” He shoves Steve and his friend out of the way and helps me out of the cage.

  “You tell Marcus, I’m not a fucking slave and I don’t play this shit.” I throw the leather cuffs at the monitor and stalk out the back entrance of the bar.

  “Shit.” I hear muttered as I slam the door behind me. I make the limo driver take me home. I need a shower, I got grubby, dirty, man stink all over me.

  Chapter 6

  “Marcus?” I turn to see Anthony standing behind me. The scowl on his face sends a shiver up my spine.

  “What it is Anthony?”

  “Um, well sir. There has been a situation in the dungeon. Your submissive has called her safe word and fled the building.” Anthony lowers his eyes.

  The tumbler in my hand shatters under the force of my grip. “What do you mean?”

  “Well, Steve and his buddy were groping her through the cage bars. She kicked the cage so hard it rocked on its chain and started screaming red. She fled the building after I opened the door.” Anthony’s voice waivers with fear. “Sir, your eyes are glowing.”

  I blink my eyes, taking a deep breath to rein in the beast. “Did she say anything else?”

  He takes a step back from me, looking around like he is assessing his escape route. “Yes, she said to tell you she isn’t a fucking slave.”

  “Fuck.” I slam my fist into the bar top, the resounding crack reverberates up my arm. I’ve got to find Jasmine, she was coming along so well. Maybe, I pushed her to hard tonight, but why didn’t she talk to me.

  I stalk to the back of the bar, heading out to the limo driver. “Take me to Jasmine’s.”

  He nods and opens the door. The drive is short and my nerves are burning a path of rage through my body. I can’t believe she just ran out. Jasmine didn’t strike me as a quitter.

  The car stops and I send the driver back to the club. I beat on the front door of Jasmine’s house. There is no movement inside, but I can hear the beating of her heart.

  “What do you want?” She yells from behind the door, the lock never clicking out of place.

  “Jasmine. Damn it. We need to talk.” My voice comes out harsh.

  Her breath hitches. “There is nothing to talk about. You treated me like property. You were cold and uncaring. I told you I wouldn’t be a slave.”

  “Jasmine, if you just let me in so we can talk about this.” I try to soften my anger. I’m not mad at her, just disappointed in myself for not seeing this sooner. I should never have pushed her so fast.

  “Marcus, please leave. I have a lot of thinking to do tonight.” Her voice cracks with her sadness. My heart breaks at being the one to cause her grief.

  “Can we at least talk about this at some point?” I can’t leave it like this, so close to my soul mate only to chase her away.

  “At some point, maybe, I don’t know yet.” Her voice hitching with sobs. I hear the way her heart stutters and her breathe comes in ragged gasps.

  “Alright, Jasmine. I’ll leave for tonight. I’m sorry.” I turn and head off into the night. Something is going to die; my beast is raging with my own heartbreak. Denying the need to break her door down and force her to submit to me, I slip into the darkened alleyway.

  I hear the fluttering lone heartbeat, deep in the alley. I stalk silently through the shadows, until I am upon my prey. The grungy looking man barely eighteen, track marks line his arms. He’s lining up his next hit, smacking the arm trying to find a vein he hasn’t blown out. The resonating sound of flesh against flesh echoes through the heavy night air. He smells of urine and filth, I grab his shirt, dragging him to his feet. His vile breath bathes across my face. Recognition never sets in, as I try not to wretch, while sinking my fangs into his neck. The burst of tangy copper fluid slides across my tongue, tinged with the flavor of his despair. I drop his lifeless limp body to the ground.

  The cell phone in my pocket rings, breaking the eerie silence of the alley. I step back into the shadows to take the call.

  “Yeah,” I clip.

  “Marcus, we need you back at the club.”

  “Shit, alright Anthony I’m on my way.” I lift into the air, hovering towards the club.

  I touch down on the rooftop of the club. It’s oddly quiet out here tonight. Nothing making any sounds at all. The owls aren’t on the hunt and the cicadas are not singing. I shrug off the ominous feeling, and search for Anthony.

  “What happened?” I find Anthony sitting at the bar drinking his own whiskey tumbler.

  The scowl he shoots my direction raises my alarm bells. “ There is a new wolf in town, She just breezed in. She shacked up in the old house just on the outskirts.”

  “Okay, I don’t see the problem with that. New shifters are always coming here for asylum.” I take the stool next to him and Thomas hands me a drink

  “That’s just it, she didn’t come to the pack for protection. She is just holed up in her house. Hell she won’t even talk to any of the shifters when she goes to town.”

  “Why are you so worried about it Anthony?” I turn to face him, seeing the worry lines etching across his forehead.

  “Because, she is mine.” His breath hisses out in a long tired sigh.

  “Shit, Anthony how do you know?”

  “She just got into town two days ago. The shifters have been watching her for me, scenting that she was new to town. I went out tonight to her house after you left and my wolf damn near got me to break the door down to get to her.”

  “Alright, calm down. You stay away from her house for a while. I will see what I can dig up after I fix my own little issue.” I pat him on the shoulder and head into my room at the top of the club. Shit just got a whole lot worse around here.

  Chapter 7

  The light rap of knuckles on my door drags me from my exhausted slumber. “Who is it?”

  “Jasmine, it’s Sam. Can we talk?”

  I crawl from the couch, inching my way to the door, in a shuffle of dread. She can only be here because Marcus sent her. I’m not sure I’m ready to talk about this yet.

  I click the lock on the door, swinging it open, and motioning her inside. “Come in, I’ll put some coffee on.” I leave her in the doorway and stagger to the kitchen.

  I find Sam slumped over on my couch, head in her hands. “What’s up Sam? Why are you here?”

  “Jasmine, Marcus is lost, without you there.”

  “Well if he didn’t want me to leave, why would he push me away?” I hate the way my voice cracks, when I talk about this.

  She levels her gaze at me, patting the sofa beside her. “Sit down Jas, we need to hash this out.”

  I plop down on the couch next to her, meeting her stare head on. “ Sam, if he sent you here, I’m not ready to go back yet.”

  “He didn’t send me Jas, I came because I’m his friend, he’s in a lot of pain and I just want to help. He loves you.”

  “Wh...what did you say?” Damn it, my voice needs to quit cracking.

  “Marcus loves you. He is really beating himself up about what happened.” Sam’s voice soothes my broken heart.

  “Why would he do that then, I don’t understand?”

  “Jasmine, dominants like to push a subs boundaries. It helps the submissive grow and learn. You should have talks this out with him, after you got scared, honest communication remember.”

  “Shit, Sam your right, but I was so hurt, he left me there. He’d been so
cold all night long, I didn’t understand the switch in his feelings.” The hot tears stream down my face. My eyes burn with sadness and shame.

  “Marcus has a hard time controlling his emotions, hon. You need to tell him this, explain how you feel.” She pulls me against her rubbing my back.

  I settle closer to her curling into her embrace and just cry. I don’t know how to have this conversation with him, but I need to do it. Sam continues to hold me, letting me sob all over her. Shoulders shaking, my breath hiccups in my throat.

  “Sam, thank you. I needed that.” I pull back from her seeing her own pain etched on her face. “Sam what’s wrong?”

  “Jas, it’s been a long week for us all.” She forces a smile.

  “Sam, do you want to talk about it?” Her eyes sparkles like bottomless crystal pools. My body heats, waves of lust lick at my core. Her gaze rakes across my skin, licking flames of hell fire across me. I’ve never been attracted to a woman before, but she is ethereal.

  “I wanted to talk to you about, what you witnessed, Friday night.” Her gaze flicks around the room, avoiding eye contact with me.

  “I wouldn’t let Marcus explain anything, it is your story, and your right to share or not.” I place my hand on her leg, giving it a reassuring squeeze.

  Her smile lights up her face, when she looks back at me. “ I know Marcus loves you and I want you to understand, that it’s not normal behavior in the club. I want us to be friends.”

  “I know you mean a lot to Marcus too and I would love to be friends.”

  “I don’t like playing a dominant.” She blurts out the simple statement taking me by complete surprise.

  “But, you were-”

  She cuts me off, “ I know what you seen and it’s because Marcus and I are such good friends, that newcomers assume. And also because of the outfits I wear. They don’t show much skin.”

  I nod, not really understanding her train of thought. “If you don’t like to do it why do you?”

  “I can’t let go and trust anyone. There are things in my past that have me scared of that kind of loss of control. Even in the safe haven of the club.”