Mercy (14 page)

As for me, he usually called me Lucy, but he had his own favorite terms for me which he used whenever it pleased him.
Slut
,
whore
, and
tramp
were the favored ones.
Dirty little whore
,
slutty dirty tramp
, there were endless permutations. Occasionally he’d call me my favorite pet name,
little fuck
. As in,
you little fuck, that’s not nearly good enough. Kneel up straighter and try it again.
Perhaps you don’t see these as endearments, but I did, because when he said these words to me, his voice resonated with lust.

I became less skittish with each subsequent session, and more open to the pain which I actually came to enjoy. I guess once I realized he wasn’t going to hurt me, really
hurt
me, it made it easier to bear. With Matthew, the pain was always equally tempered with pleasure, so the two things for me began to seem one and the same, two facets of one thrilling experience, two sides of the same coin.

For his part, he moved me very carefully along a continuum. As demanding as he was, I could see a painstaking and wonderfully protective method to everything he did. That made me adore him more than anything, the mindful way he trained me to do the things he asked.

And he asked for things I never would have considered doing before I met him. Usually, I ended up liking them very much. My favorite activity with Matthew, despite my inexperience with it, was getting fucked in the ass. I took to it like a fish takes to water, which was a good thing because he used me there a lot. He trained me to it slowly, teased me for three whole weeks with ever-widening dildos and butt plugs. By the third week, he’d progressed to making me sleep with one all night. I would writhe and fidget beside him, burning with lust, desperate for him to take out the plug and just fuck me there already. He would feign impatience.
Go to sleep, Lucy
. But I know he loved how horny he made me feel, loved the fact that I was, surprisingly, quite the anal-craving slut.

It was on one of those torturous nights I lay fidgeting, that he turned me to face him and looked at me hard.

“Lucy, please. Is it that uncomfortable?”

“It’s just...invasive.”

“Yes, it’s meant to be. In the morning, I’m fucking your ass and I don’t want to have to fight my way in.” Then he’d turned his back on me with a great sigh. Tomorrow, tomorrow...
tomorrow
!

I squeezed my legs together. I was so horny for his cock and morning was still hours away. Soon, I heard his breathing get slow and regular, and I shifted ever so slightly and put my hand between my legs.

My clit was wet and swollen. My fingers caressed it furtively, sliding over the slickness. I barely moved, tensing my body. I only tapped at it lightly, but I knew I would come. I almost did, I was so close, when I heard Matthew shift and felt his big hand close hard over mine.

“
So
against the rules. Did I tell you to touch yourself?”

“No, sir.”
Shit.

“Did I say you could come?”

“No, sir,” I almost sobbed, my near orgasm of relief ebbing away. He pulled me close against the front of him and whispered against my ear.

“I put that little toy in your bottom to remind you all night that you belong to me. To remind you that you’re going to take my cock in your ass soon—and often, little one. If you have an orgasm, it’s because I gave it to you and I want to enjoy watching it. I’m sorry you’re a little anal-erotic slut, but you’ve been naughty. What happens to naughty girls?”

“Punishment,” I whispered.

“Tomorrow you’ll take twenty before I fuck your ass. I’m sorry, but that was a very poor choice in judgment.”

“I know, sir. I’m so sorry. I...I was...horny.”

“Yes, clearly. Even so, I’m surprised you’d try it lying right next to me. You know the rules.”

“I thought you were sleeping.” I could be sassy now. I was already getting punished in the morning.

“You just added five,” he snapped. “Now go to sleep, and keep your filthy hands out of your crotch, you horny little slut.”

I almost laughed, but I’d already pushed him pretty far, so I smothered my snort of laughter with a fake burst of coughing.

“You’re really pushing it now,” he said, and pinched my ass so hard that I started to cough for real.

As promised, the next morning, he shook me abruptly.

“Wake up, Lucy. You have five minutes to meet me downstairs and I wouldn’t be late if I was you.”

I scampered off to pee and brush my teeth. I tried to fluff up my hair but I still looked a mess. I ran down the stairs stark naked, blushing as always when I ran past Mrs. Kemp. I burst into the basement room to find Matthew waiting, completely nude as well. Each time I was confronted with his naked strength, his masculine power, it started hot drumbeats in my veins. I stared a moment, transfixed.

“Come on,” he called to me at the door. He already had the leather paddle in his hand. He pointed to one of the sturdier ottomans. “This one.”

I walked over with as much dignity as I could manage. I knelt over the ottoman he indicated like the graceful dancer I was. “Hands.” I offered them obediently and watched him snap the cuffs onto my wrists, already shivering inwardly with lust.

He was in a good mood because he gave me a few warm-ups before he started to land the ones that really hurt. He snapped at me not to tense, but it was hard not to. The pain was so sharp, so stinging, it was hard not to clench and try to evade the blows. Halfway through, he started to lecture me.

“Who do you belong to?”

“You, Matthew. Eleven!”
Ouch!

“Who does your pussy belong to?”

Ouch!
“Twelve! You, Matthew! Thirteen!”

“And who does your
clitty
belong to?”

“Fourteen! You, Matthew! Fifteen!” I started to cry as he laid them on harder. My toes curled and my legs tensed as my eyes flooded over with tears. The broad, thick leather paddle was one of the worst things he used on me.

“And you’ll find out shortly—”

“Sixteen!”

“—who your asshole belongs to.”

I sobbed from seventeen to twenty, choking on the words while I creamed on myself at the same time, thinking of him fucking my ass. Afterward while I composed myself, he stood over me, tapping the paddle against his muscled thigh.

“You are never to touch yourself without me. Even when you go home, you’re still mine. Here...” He prodded my soaked pussy with the side of the implement. “This is mine and only mine. Do you understand?”

“Yes, sir,” I said, fidgeting at the crass caress of the paddle. I felt so horny and shamed.

“And if you slip up, Lucy, if you
wank
yourself at home, you’ll tell me as soon as we’re together and you’ll be punished. Do you understand?”

“Yes, sir.”

“And if you ever, ever give yourself to another man without my permission, I’ll invite over 50 of my most horny friends to use you like a whore and fuck you in every hole, one after the other. Do you understand?”

“Yes, sir.”

“I know you’re a horny little bitch, but you’ll fucking control yourself or you’ll fucking know pain. Do you understand me, Lucy?”

“Yes, sir.” The endless mantra.
Yes, sir. Yes, sir. Yes, sir. Yes, sir. Yes, sir to everything you say, forever and ever and ever, Amen.

He went to the armoire to throw down the paddle and sheathe himself. He looked at the various types of lube, noisily trying to decide which one would best help me accommodate his “fucking massive cock.” Then he pulled the toy out of my ass and jammed copious amounts of lube up inside me, slick and hot. I was excited, but absolutely terrified. I moaned and he slapped my sore bottom.

“Control yourself, you horny little tramp.”

I buried my face in the upholstery as he parted my cheeks, then I felt him against me, pressing against me with the thick head of his cock. Slowly he rocked at my entrance, but he couldn’t get in.

“Open, Lucy!”

I drew a deep breath, clutching at the bottom of the ottoman, my hands still tightly restrained. It hurt like hell, but I wanted it. I desperately wanted him to slide up inside my ass.
Open, open...

“Open,” he coaxed me. “Open. Open. Open. That’s right.” I could feel myself finally relaxing as he thrust just the head of his cock inside. He stopped, waiting for me to adjust. It was so tight, the pain so sharp. He was still so much bigger than any toy I’d endured.

“Jesus, Lucy,” he breathed. He pulled out and slathered more lube on his cock. He squeezed my sore ass cheeks. “Just settle down and relax. You’ve wanted this for a very long time.” He rubbed my lower back and held my hips. Again he breathed, “Open...” and again pushed the head in. I tried with every fiber of my being to be open, and with a sigh, he carefully slid deeper into me. Centimeter by centimeter, inch by inch, he slid into me. It felt horrible and yet wonderful at the same time. My entire body tensed and shuddered from the unfamiliar pressure.

“
Fuuuuccckkkk
...” he groaned. He pulled out a little and then went deeper still. “
Ahhh
...good...that’s right, Lucy,” and he drove almost to the hilt. “Tell me if it hurts.”

“It hurts!”

“Tell me if it really hurts,” he said sternly. “If I’m
hurting
you.”

I knew what he meant, because between us, there was hurt, and then there was
hurt
, and while he gave me hurt with the focus of a zealot, the other kind of
hurt
was not his thing. He went on fucking me slowly, ascertaining that the hurt he was giving me was the okay kind.

“Just relax...” He massaged my hips, pulling me back onto his cock. Again and again he withdrew, then drove deep again. Each time, I felt invaded anew. “Feel me fuck you. I know it feels different. Try to get used to how I feel in your ass.” He ran his hand up my back, twining his fingers in my hair. “Your ass feels so fucking good to me, Lucy. I’ll be fucking it all the time.”

He rode me slowly and thoroughly up the ass for what seemed an eternity. I think he truly did it to fixate me to it, to burn the sensation on my brain. Then, with that accomplished, he decided, being my first time
assfucking
, that I should definitely come. He instructed me clearly that I would come soon, and he pinched my nipples, fucking me hard. I made a desperate sound, moaning and bucking back against him.

“Yes, you like that. I know.” Then he told me, “Now. Now, Lucy, you little whore. You delicious little slut. Come on, come for me. I want to feel your ass clamp down on my dick.”

And my ass milked his dick exactly like he wanted it to, and I came hard and fast. The orgasm seized my entire body, and I gave myself up to it, all of it, burning and rocking and crying out like a harlot on fire.

* * *

I sort of liked that he forbade me to touch myself without him, because it was hard. It was
really
hard, because I always wanted to. Since meeting Matthew and being introduced to his particular brand of power exchange, I drifted through life on a high of carnal lust. I danced and I ate and I slept and I thought of him and the nasty things he did to me, the nasty things he made me do. It was really
really
hard.

Honestly, I didn’t always manage it. The nights I didn’t see him, I thought of him and dreamed, and sometimes it just seemed worth it to jack myself even if it meant some pain later on. Maybe you wonder why I told him at all, since he had no way of knowing if I touched myself or not. But I was a terrible liar, and he asked me every time, and I was terrified of getting caught in a lie.
Truth, beauty. Beauty, truth.
We had made our pact, after all. Aside from the one big lie we lived, I tried to be as honest as possible with him.