GOLD MASK

CHAPTER 19

I got into the familiar Mercedes-Benz, with just a coat I got from a nice lady from inside the club, seeing as I didn't have enough time to go change. I am not enough going to lie, I was scared shitless as soon as I got into the car and he drove off in silence. The anger I saw in his eyes scared me, and I didn't even want to imagine what would happen once we get to his house.

From the look in his eyes, I knew I was in for some severe punishment, which I had mixed feelings about. The possibility of being tied up and possibly being denied an orgasm was somewhat exciting, but the glint of anger dancing around with the danger in his eyes made me worry about him possibly hurting me.

He wouldn't hurt me, would he?

"Mfihlo I..."

"Please Azania, don’t make me argue with you while I'm driving. I am sure you don't want us to die,” he stated in a soft tone, but you could just hear the anger hiding behind it.

I frowned and reached over to touch his thigh, but he saw my attempt and shifted away. I looked up at him, broken by his refusal of my affect. "That's not my name Mfihlo. You don't call me that. Call me Pup. I am your Pup, right?"

"You don't deserve it,” he said in a clipped tone, and that rejection had me curling myself up into a ball in the seat beside him.

All this was happening, just because I was stripping. None of those men even touched me, I didn't violate any clause of the contract, and he shouldn't be this pissed--should he? What did this mean? Were we over? Was the contract going to be null and void?

In the mist of my thinking, I didn't realize we had arrived until I heard him shut the door, angrily, and I saw him walk up to his front door. I quickly jumped out, and followed after him just as he walked inside. Since when did he choose not to open my door? What is happening?

Once I was inside, I noticed an unfamiliar man sprawled out on the couch, tearing through what looked like a shwarma. "Not going to throw me out this time,” the man asked, directing the question to Mfihlo, who didn't pay him any mind, as he walked down the passage and into his room.  When I got inside, he was discarding his top clothes and was left in his dress pants.

"Strip,” he ordered. I looked at the door.

"But we..."

"Strip,” he ordered for a second time, but this time around his voice sounding more assertive.

I complied, despite the uncomfortably I felt, we weren't alone after all. He sat on the edge of the bed and watched me as I got nude. Once I was done, I just stood there, squirming under his gaze as I felt myself pool. "Come here."

My feet did as I was told, and I stood in between his legs. I held my breath as his hand glided down to frame the curve of my hip, before he brought his face against my stomach, nipping away at the skin there. I moaned, and my hands shot out to touch his head and try to bring him closer than he was, but he stopped. "Don't touch me,” he ordered.

And reluctantly I did as I was told. He craned his neck, as he went down to my vagina, kissing the face and snaking up his hand under my butt, letting his finger glide along my wet folds.