Mick Britton: Training missy Ch. 02

Mick stood abruptly and Trinidad stood and stepped back. Missy felt Mick hauling up on her collar and stood, still trapped between this tall woman and her Master. She could see that Trinidad was not wearing a top at all and her very flat chest was completely covered with the writhing scales of a winged reptilian creature with flames leaking out between the sinuous coils. Two gold bars shaped like bones pierced each dark nipple forming an 'X' on each one. "Again a thousand times no, Trinidad. But you are right; I would like some artwork done. Perhaps we could barter something else, perhaps you need some car work done?"

Trinidad made and exasperated snort, "Car work, how plebian." A claw sharp, blood red fingernail again began to trace the letters for a third time, pressing into missy's flesh, almost cutting her. "Maybe you could give this one to me for a time. If I could not twist you, it would perhaps be almost as sweet breaking this new toy of yours, hearing her scream for you as you walk away. I can smell her fear and I find it intriguing."

A shudder of fear shook through missy and she shrank back from the hand on her chest. A tiny whimper rose up in her chest, the first sound she had made since they had walked in through the front doors of this demented place. She was completely unaware that she was softly almost imperceptively shaking her head.

Mick growled, "Enough Trinidad, hands off my property." Mick's eyes turned toward the man trying once again to hold his weight on his feet to ease the stress on his arms and shoulders. "Your friend seems to be waking up. You might look to him before his arms come out of their sockets. You will have a great deal of difficulty finding playmates if the word gets out that you let them become permanently injured."

Missy felt him grab her arm and push her along ahead of him out of the room into the hall. As he propelled her down the hall toward the pounding music, missy shot a searching glance for where she had dropped her dress to the floor, but her heart sank when she saw that it was gone. Soon they were in the larger room and missy's eyes widened when she saw that at least twice as many people were dancing or sitting around the room. Mick walked over to an empty couch, threw himself down on it, and pushed her down onto her knees at his feet.

Missy watched the dancers on the dance floor. There seemed to be many more women than men dancing and most of the women were completely nude. Missy could see more than one couple of nude female bodies slowly sensually grinding against each other. The music did not seem to change that much, one loud techno piece blending into the next.

A nude girl came by and leaned down and hollered something into Mick's ear and he nodded. Soon she was back with a tray with two tall glasses filled with liquid and ice cubes. Mick pressed one glass into missy's hand and she sipped it cautiously. She looked at it in surprise; it was some kind of tart fruit punch without any alcohol in it. Gratefully, she took a deep swallow, realizing how hungry and thirsty she was. She had been far too nervous to eat or drink almost all day. The sugar and fluid seemed to flow directly into her parched tissues.

The older man in the white caftan loomed into missy's vision and she tensed, she knew his name was Kennedy, but she still just called him the man in the caftan inside her head. She stared down at the drink in her hand and took a nervous sip and then looked out at the dancers again. A soft hand touched her shoulder and missy flinched and looked up at the nude woman that seemed to perpetually follow the man around. She was smiling gently and beckoning to missy to stand and come with her. Missy sent a panicked look to Mick and he waved at her, gesturing for her to go.

Reluctantly missy stood and the woman took her hand, nodding in encouragement and led her around the dance floor and into a door marked "Bitches." Inside the music was less oppressive. The nude woman turned to missy, "I thought you might like to powder your nose."

Missy could not suppress a small grin at the euphemism and responded with an almost inaudible, "Thank you." She slipped into a stall and sat. Missy did not especially need to pee, but realized she might not have a chance again in a long time. Focusing on relaxing, she forced herself to completely empty her bladder.

As she washed her hands she looked at herself in the mirror. The lipstick was still smeared around her lips and across on cheek making her look sloppy or perhaps like she had been necking. She made no effort to wipe it off. The writing on her chest was blurred and almost unreadable. Missy leaned in and looked closer; she could see that there were shallow scratches on her skin, a reminder of the sharp fingernail that traced the words 'Mick's Cunt' over and over as the woman taunted her Master.

The woman looked over her shoulder, "That Trinidad is such a bitch sometimes. It looks like those will go away pretty fast."

Missy's eyes met hers in the mirror; her voice was fearful, "Is it okay for me to talk to you?"

The woman's eyes softened, "Has your Master forbidden you to speak?"

"I don't know. He said to speak only when spoken to."

"Well I am speaking to you now, aren't I? I am sure it is okay to speak now, with me, but out there you will see that I do not speak unless I am spoken to first or have an assigned task that requires I initiate speech." Opening a drawer the woman pulled out a brush and smoothed her blond hair, "My name is Lolly." Taking out a tube of lipstick she put a fresh coat of red lipstick on. "So, missy, how are you feeling? You were looking pretty terrified earlier, but it looks like you are starting to feel a little better."

"I did not like that thing back there in that room. It just was weird and kind of freaked me out. And I hated when she touched me."

"Like I said, she is a bitch. None of us subs like her. She just likes to hurt people. I wish Master did not find her so amusing. He likes to watch as she goes around making people uncomfortable."

Missy asked cautiously, "Mr. Kennedy is your Master?"

Lolly looked mildly surprised, and then shook her head, "Missy, when you speak another Master's name, say Sir Kennedy, but if you are speaking directly to a Master that is not your own, do not say their name. Just say Sir. If it is a woman, it is a little more complicated, but if you aren't sure just say Ma'am. You may get corrected, but until then it is a best guess. And yes, Kennedy is my Master. He has been my Master for almost twenty-five years."

Missy stood and tried to smooth her bangs a little with her hand. A shadow fell over her face, "I lost my dress somewhere, and I don't know how I am going to get home without it."

Lolly laughed, "Most likely you will find it hanging in the coat closet by the front door where most everyone leaves their clothes. If you cannot find your dress, there are at least a dozen that have been left behind over the last few months. Just grab one of those. It is probably where Mick got your dress in the first place. Master has kind of taken a shine to him and lets him pick out stuff from the lost and found. "

Missy looked curiously around her, "What kind of place is this? I thought we were just coming to visit you and your Master at your house and I get here and it's like some kind of night club."

"It is our house and a club, a very private, exclusive club. My Master, kitten, and I live on the upper floors and the club is in the basement. We are only open on Friday and Saturday nights and then for private parties on other days. The members pay a monthly membership fee. We are working on a liquor license, but with the sex here, it is hard to get one. For now most people either just drink the fruit juice or have something to drink in their cars. They have to go outside to smoke cigarettes and, um, whatever, so they can grab something to drink when they are out. Master does not tolerate drunkenness or people getting too stoned. He will call a cab and send them home. He charges them a great deal for that small service. It does not take too many times for someone to learn moderation."

As missy moved to go back out the door, Lolly's hand trailed down her back and caressed her ass. Missy froze, her shoulders coming up around her ears again. "Please don't."

Lolly's voice was amused, "Don't you like me?"

Missy shifted nervously, "Um... um, yes? I mean no? I don't know. I am so nervous, I can hardly think. But I don't want to do anything without knowing if it is my Master's wish."

Lolly looked at her with a new respect, "For a nervous newbie, you have very good instincts. Your Master will be pleased. Do you like to dance?"

"I used to, a long time ago."

"Well maybe your Master will wish for you to dance with me."

The ice in missy's drink had almost completely melted and Mick gave her a stern look when she knelt at his feet, carefully positioning herself so she could watch his face out of the corner of her eye and still look out on the room. Missy looked at him meekly and then flicked her eyes toward the departing back of Lolly. She wished that the music weren't so loud so she could explain or at least beg his forgiveness. Then she realized that the music was in many ways like the clothespin he had put onto her lips. It was a barrier forcing her to trap her words inside, forcing her to think and decide if the words really needed to be spoken. Missy smiled as she realized that; her words evaporated almost as quickly as they appeared. It seemed like the impulse to blurt out words was so much more of an issue of late. She felt a wave of affection for her Master.

Missy had to fight the urge to lean her head against Mick's leg, instead she turned her eyes up to his face and this time her smile was an outpouring of her love and gratitude for him. Mick gave her a quizzical look and then grinned back. He reached out and gave one of her braids a playful tug and then turned his gaze out onto the dance floor once more.

<3 <3 <3 <3 <3 <3 <3 <3 <3 <3 <3 <3 <3 <3 <3 <3 <3

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