Club Fatale, Pt. 4

Club Fatale, Pt. 4

Chapter Six – Enter Devon

I woke in the morning, my cock still inside Enya’s warm pussy. It was so tight that I could feel myself harden immediately.

I pulled out and rolled the girl onto her back. I quickly straddled her head and fucked her face until I got off. She moaned the whole time and I sprayed my jizm all over her youthful features.

Rolling off of her, I pulled my pants on and walked into the living room.

I stopped short. In the living room was Emmanuelle, seated on a sofa. With her was an unfamiliar dark-haired woman, sitting beside her. Jana knelt a few feet away: her eyes wet with tears.

“Emmanuelle?” I said, surprised. “Good morning! I didn’t hear you come in. Who’s your friend?”

She took a deep breath.

“I have some bad news. I’m afraid that Karina won’t be returning to you, Evan,” Emmanuelle said. Her voice was flat and slightly rushed. I could tell that she was trying to get some unpleasant business out of the way as quickly as possible. “The Commodore sends his regrets and a suitable replacement for your loss.”

She gestured.

The brunette beside her stood and I checked her out: long legs, large breasts on a slender frame. She was an older lady, perhaps Emmanuelle’s age, but still a very fine specimen. Beautiful features. Blue eyes. If older, she was clearly superior to Jana’s sister. A Grade-AA, unless I missed the mark.

“So,” I said. “The old dog went and offed her, did he? Or did he just not feel like returning her to me?”

“Things got a little out of hand, last night,” Emmanuelle said. “I apologize and offer my sincerest regrets for any inconvenience, Evan. I… You have to understand that these things happen from time to time.”

I realized that she was scared.

“What’s wrong, Emma?” I asked. “An accident like this hardly justifies such discomfort on your part.”

“She’s upset,” Enya said, as she emerged from my bedroom, “because according to the rules of conduct set down by father, you now have the opportunity to claim redress for grievances against him…”

“And that means?” I prompted.

“My life is yours, Evan,” Enya finished. “Your property has been destroyed by another. You now have the opportunity to use me as you see fit. You can do anything you wish to me and not even father can interfere.”

I felt a sudden thrill run through me. It wasn’t every day that a beautiful young woman informed you of something like that. I saw Jana sobbing on her knees: grieving over her sister. I looked at Emmanuelle waiting with bated breath. I stared at Enya: seemingly unafraid of what might come.

“It’s alright, Emma,” I said. “I don’t blame you or hold any grudges against the Commodore. Enya will return with you.”

Emmanuelle smiled, relieved. The tension ran off of her.

My attention was already turning to the brunette. “What’s your name, sweet thing?” I asked.

“Devon,” was the answer.

“Devon what?” I pressed.

“We don’t often tell our family names here, master,” the brunette said. She had a curious accent: part English, part something I couldn’t identify. “I am Devon: your woman. That is all that is important…”

I nodded. That much was true. “Inform the Commodore that I accept his gift, Emmanuelle, and thank him. There will be much pleasure in this one.”

I stared at Devon. Her return smile rivaled one of Emmanuelle’s.

Emmanuelle broke out into a grin and spoke. “I’ll take my leave, now. And thank you for taking care of Enya, Evan. I’ve rarely seen her so… satisfied.”

“We had good times,” I said.

Enya and I shared one last look before she left.

“Until next time, Evan,” the mother said. And the old Emmanuelle was back. I could see the sultry look in her Dresden-blue eyes. Whatever problem had been between us before, she had gotten over it.

“Until later, my dear.”

I watched Emmanuelle leave with Enya. Then I turned to my new acquisition.

“On your back,” I said.

Pushing Devon’s dress up, I entered her and took her upon my couch. I fucked her mightily for over an hour before coming in her pussy and leaving her spent. Afterwards, I went to seek out Angelique.

Chapter Seven – The Mistress of Snuff

The first day of snuff class came.

Mistress Angelique was my instructor. At five-foot-eight and a hundred and twenty pounds, she was a knockout with a dazzling figure. Raven-black hair curled about her muscular shoulders and mischievous blue eyes sparkled beneath dark, furrowed brows. She wore a tight corset of a lacy black that contained bulging breasts; black stockings that sheathed her toned, athletic legs.

Angelique had a riding crop and she used it like someone out of a fetish movie.

Behind her were three bound women: a blonde, a brunette and a redhead.

“Mr.