Mercy
Page 17
“I waited, sir.”
“What about while we were apart? Did you ever touch yourself? Play with yourself while you were thinking of me?”
“Yes, a lot of times,” I admitted guiltily. “I couldn’t help it.”
“Why?” he asked, with an edge of arousal. “Why couldn’t you control yourself? Did you sleep with any other men?”
“No,” I said, horrified at the idea. “But I dreamed of you often.”
“You dreamed of me? What kind of things? What did you dream about?”
“About you hurting me.” My voice trembled from the intent way he stared.
“What did I do to you in your dreams? Tell me everything.” I wanted to groan with frustration. I didn’t want to talk, not right now. But I obediently told him, “You fucked my ass, and then you beat me—”
“Specifics,” he snapped. “Kneel up straight and tell me a story. And remember, I’m still deciding how to punish you, so it would be in your best interest to make it good.”
“You made me bend over the ottoman and you restrained me—”
“How?”
“With the cuffs. You made me part my legs, and you...thrust really hard into my ass. You really fucked me hard...”
“Did it feel good?”
“Yes, sir.” His cock was bobbing in front of me. “Can I suck you now?”
“You’ll suck me when I tell you to, you little cock whore, and not a moment before. What happened in your dream after I assfucked you?”
“I came without permission, and you...used your cane on me.” He smiled broadly. “The cane? Really?”
“Yes, sir.”
“How many strokes?”
“Twenty,” I admitted with mounting dread.
“You like being caned.”
“No, sir.”
“It wasn’t a question. Twenty with a cane, huh? And you jerked off over that?”
“Yes, sir.”
“When you woke up from your dream?”
“Yes. I was desperate to come.”
“You’re a naughty little whore, aren’t you?”
“Yes, sometimes.”
He pinched my nipples until I yelped.
“You are all the time. Open your mouth, Lucy.”
Before I could part my lips fully, he thrust between them, but I was ready for him, my mouth hot and wet. I sucked him as he pulled painfully on my nipples. Then he let go and held onto my head, curling his fingers into my hair.
“I’m glad what we do turns you on, Lucy, but we have rules. You get twenty for touching yourself without permission. And you did it how many times?” I moaned around his cock. It would have meant hundreds of strokes. Thousands.
He laughed. “Lick my balls, Lucy. Do it really nice, the way you were taught.” He groaned as I ran my tongue over his sack, lapping at him eagerly. “If you do it real nice, if you suck me off good and swallow all my cum, I might have mercy on you. I might give you twenty and call it a deal.”
I moaned and took his cock in my mouth again, deep throating his length. I was out of practice, but I managed not to gag.
“That’s a good girl.” Before he came, he pulled out and came on my mouth and my breasts.
I licked his jizz from my lips the way he’d taught me, and he rubbed in the cum on my breasts while he tugged at my nipples a few more times. Then he put his fingers to my mouth.
“Lick it off. Savor it, you little slut.”
And I savored every drop. I loved his fingers and the taste of his cum. I licked his fingers until they shone and again licked my lips, delicate as a cat.
“Crawl to the ottoman and bend yourself over it. How many do you get for touching yourself?”
“Twenty, sir.”
“Would you like me to use the cane?”
“No, sir.”
He laughed. “Noted. But I choose.” I looked up at him from the ottoman, watched his mind work. “Let’s try a new toy.”
He returned with a thick leather strap I’d never seen before. He dropped it in front of my face, along with a condom and the itchy lube. I shivered a little.
“I’m going to fuck your ass first, Lucy, and then I’m going to beat you with this.” He slathered the itchy lube all over his cock after he put the condom on, then reached around to smooth a little between my legs. I moaned, grinding against his fingers. He chuckled. “I never make it easy, do I? Give me your hands.” He bound my hands at the small of my back, then parted my cheeks and placed some more of the lube in my ass. I wiggled and groaned from the hot, invasive sting.
“You may come when I come, Lucy, not before. This assfucking is to reward your slutty little dream. When I’m done, then you’ll get your punishment with the strap.”
“Yes, sir,” I said, but what I wanted to do was beg please, please, please, please! He did everything slowly and deliberately, for no other reason than to drive me mad. It had been weeks since I’d had his cock in my ass and I was desperate to feel that pleasure and pain. He had other plans though. He took his time fingering my cheeks and asshole, and then he whistled under his breath.
“So pale, so white. It’s been months since I’ve seen you this way. Have you missed having my marks on your ass?”
The lube stung and teased inside me. I practically cried, “yes, sir!” He played lazily with my ass cheeks, squeezing and pinching them. “Do you like it when I do this, when I play with you and touch you?”
I groaned into the ottoman. “Matthew, please!”
“Okay, let’s try this. No toy first. Can you be open for me? It’s been a while since you took me, little girl.”
He guided his cock to my entrance. “Open. Relax and open.” He pressed against me and I tensed a little. I’d forgotten how large he really was. He nuzzled my neck. “If you were better trained, I’d be able to slide right in. You’ll learn one of these days to be ready before I even touch my cock to you. We’ll just have to practice a bit more, won’t we, you little anal-loving slut?”
I made a soft sound, somewhere between a thrill and a laugh.
He pushed deeper into me, so only the thick head of his cock was inside. “Relax, don’t tense.” He rubbed my back soothingly. “Offer your ass to me, let me come inside.” And then he was sliding inside me, and I was stretching open for him. I felt the familiar burn, the full, hot sensation. “Jesus, Lucy, I love your ass. See, you’re doing it, not even a toy first. You can accommodate my fat cock. You’ve come so far.”
I moaned because his words were so nasty, so erotic. He sawed in and out of me steadily, and with each thrust, my clit throbbed.
“I’m going to fuck you a long time, Lucy. I’m going to make you so used to this, so used to the feel of getting your asshole fucked. You’re going to get it fucked all the time now that we’re together again, aren’t you?”
“God, yes!” I cried.
He held my hips in his hands and drove into me over and over, while I writhed and wiggled against him. Then he reached up underneath me and pinched both my taut nipples.
“Oh God, Matthew!”
“Yes, I know you like that. But don’t you come yet.”
I shook my head, whimpering softly.
“Don’t,” he warned.
“Matthew, I can’t—”
“You can, you just concentrate, you horny little cumslut. You concentrate on waiting for me.
I told you to wait for me, and that’s what you’ll do.”
I buried my face in the ottoman and I tensed, my hands behind my back clenching into fists.
He fucked me roughly and again and again, jerked on my nipples. I cried out in torment, trying to hold off my orgasm at the same time it threatened to overtake me. Each moment, the strain and pleasure intensified. Finally, I heard his breath change.
“Okay, you little tramp. You may come now, because I’m about to really plow your ass.” And he did, so that I came in an explosion of sensation, my entire pelvis contracting and bucking in exquisite relief. I could feel him quaking behi
nd me while I cried out, thrusting in me deep. He collapsed over top of me, his hard stomach muscles crushing my hands. He breathed and sighed into my hair.
“Did you like that?”
“Yes.”
“Thank me then. From now on, since you like it so much, I want you to thank me when I fuck your ass.”
“Thank you, sir,” I breathed.
“Pathetic,” he snapped, smacking my ass hard. “With some enthusiasm!”
“Thank you, sir!”
“Better.”
“Thanks for fucking my ass so...enthusiastically,” I added, looking back at him, and he smothered a smile and grabbed my hair hard.
“Naughty. Jesus, you’re naughty. Now you’ll get five more, you naughty little slut.”
“Yes, sir.”
“Apologize.”
“I’m so sorry.”
He got up to throw away his condom and wash up, then he undid my cuffs and refastened them to the ottoman legs. He picked up the thick leather strap with a devilish grin and tapped it against his hand.
“This is new. I’ve never used it. I bet it hurts.”
I buried my head in the upholstery.
“You’ll count, Lucy. Twenty five.”
He warmed me up with a few cracks, and I counted each one. By the time he got to five, I was already tensing and dodging the blows, because the thick leather stung like bejeezus.
“Stop it,” he snapped. “We talked about this. You just buck up and take it.”
“Six.” I flinched again.
“Does it hurt?”
“Yes, sir. Seven!” God, it hurt like hell.
“Does it hurt more or less than the cane?”
“Eight! Less, Matthew.”
“More or less than my belt?”
“Nine! More, Matthew. Ten!” I yelped again. He was hitting me harder now. Around stroke number eighteen, I finally burst into bitter tears of remorse.
“You would have been almost done now.”
“Nineteen!” I sobbed.
“You would have had just one more.”
“Twenty!” Jesus, that was a hard one. He was really getting severe. I wanted it though, had asked for it, in fact.
“Little Smarty Pants.”
I nearly forgot to count. He took me to twenty five, and the last ones were brutal. My butt was on fire.
He crouched beside me, lifted my chin and looked in my eyes.
“Did it turn you on as much as your dream?”
“No,” I pouted. “Not quite.”
He reached back and thrust his fingers up inside me. I was ridiculously wet. “I think you’re a liar.” He shoved them in deeper, wiggling them, making me moan and arch my back. “Next time, I’ll use the cane.”
He undid my hands, yanked me to my feet, and fondled my breasts while he kissed me hard.
“I’m glad that you dreamed about me while we were apart. I dreamed about you.” I looked up at him, completely enamored and sick with love. He stroked my cheek thoughtfully.
“Do you really like being a submissive, Lucy? I know you weren’t sure. Why did you run away from me?”
“I didn’t run away. I needed some time to think about things.”
“Have you had enough time now? Are you sure now? Are you sure you want to be with me?
I couldn’t take it if you left me again.”
“I won’t,” I promised. “I want to be here.”
He kissed me, nuzzling me affectionately. “Well, run upstairs, wash up, and I’ll fuck you again in bed. Go.”
He came up a short time afterward, showering after me. When he came out, I was sitting on his bed brushing my hair.
“Give me,” he said, sitting behind me. I handed him the hairbrush. He loved to play with my hair. The way he brushed it though...tragic.
“You have to...” I gestured hopelessly. “Brush it curl by curl.” He chuckled, dragging the brush through it.
“Or you’ll make it frizz!”
He ran the brush through it the other way then, teasing it up on end.
“Stop! Stop it,” I pleaded, giggling as he fought with me over the brush. We wrestled, and of course I ended up over his lap. He cracked my ass with the hairbrush, and I yelped and screeched as he tickled me in between smacks.
“Stop! Give it back to me. Ouch!”
I looked back at him, trapped under his hands.
“Give it to me. Please.”
With a smirk, he tossed it into the corner.
“I like the tousled look better.” He pulled me up in his lap and started to slide me down on his cock. He sighed as the head entered and went into me a little.
I pushed at him. “No.”
He groaned. “Why not?”
“I don’t want to get pregnant.”
“Why not?”
I laughed, and looked at him reproachfully. “Matthew.”
He pouted, but pushed me off him to reach for a condom. “Why don’t you go on the pill already?”
“I told you why.”
“Can’t you get a diaphragm, or a...what the hell are those called? An IUD?”
“How about I just get a hysterectomy? Will that please my master?” He rolled on the condom with an arch look. “Sometimes you have a smart little mouth.
Makes me want to put something in it.”
He pulled me into his lap again and lowered me onto his cock, caressing my back, pulling down my hips. I felt so full of him, not just full of his cock, but full of his love, his affection and care.
“Oh Jesus, Lucy. Jesus Christ.” He cupped my ass in his hands, bruised and hot as it was. He pulled me closer and I ground against him, riding him, grinding my clit against him so swirls of arousal washed over me again and again. When I started getting close to coming, he picked me up and dropped me down on my back. He came over me, thrusting deep and hard inside me. I reveled in the feeling of his power, his mastery. His taut abs rubbed against my stomach and his chest hair tickled my breasts. I clung to him, drifted on the manly scent of him.
“Jesus, Lucy, I just want to fuck you sometimes. I want to fuck you forever. I want my cock in you every hour of the day.”
“I’m confused,” I teased. “Do you like to fuck me or not?” He licked my neck and pulled me closer. “I love to fuck you. Frizzy hair and all. Does it feel good when I fuck you?”
“Matthew, if you knew what you felt like, how you feel when you’re inside me. God, if you could feel it...”
He laughed. “I can feel it.” I moaned as he drove into me. “I can feel how much you love it,” he said. “I love the noises you make, like you love to be fucked.” He pulled my hands up hard over my head and held them there. “Are you going to come for me, Lucy? Come hard and loud for me?” He bit my nipples while he held my hands tight. I struggled against him, just to feel that he had me held safely, that I couldn’t get away.
“I’ve got you, baby. I’m going to fuck you so hard now.” He pushed my thighs wider apart, practically bruising them with his hands. He pounded into me roughly and my sore ass cheeks slid up and down on the bed. I was trapped, captured, consumed by his passion. “My God, Lucy, I love you so much.”
I shuddered with pleasure. How long had I dreamed of him saying those words to me?
“I love you too, Matthew,” I sighed, completely transported by his hard, punishing thrusts.
When I came, he came at the same time. It was like we were one, one creature, one being. I came with my legs kicking, my pussy clenching around him, his teeth buried in my neck.
* * *
The next morning he woke me by parting my thighs and starting to eat me out. He licked and stroked my pussy with his tongue, sucked at my clit, parting me wider and wider to taste me.
“Turn over,” he rasped. I flipped over, still not fully awake. He came over my back, the tip of his cock pressed against me, and drove all the way in, warm, pulsing flesh.
“Matthew! No!”
“I’ll pull out.”
“No.”<
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“I’ll pull out. Trust me.”
“Please!” I knew he was clean, we’d been tested long ago, but a baby would end my career.
“Please, Matthew. Please don’t! If you don’t want to use a condom, fuck my ass.” He stopped and pulled out of me with a groan, lying beside me on his back.
“I’m sorry,” I said. “I just can’t let you. If I get pregnant—”
“No, it’s okay. You’re right to make me. I’m just being a dick.” He leaned over to get a condom from the bedside table, along with some lube, which he used to ease his finger into my bottom. “I think I will fuck your ass though, now that you mention it.” He pulled me up on my knees and spread my legs wide. I trembled as he parted me and pressed the tip of his cock to my asshole. I buried my head in my hands and willed myself to relax for him. I knew he wouldn’t hurt me, that he would make me come. I willed myself to accept him, and slowly, he made his way in. “Good girl,” he breathed. “Jesus, what a good girl you are.”
When he was fully seated inside me, he fucked me while I clawed at the bed, overwhelmed as always by the sensation of being plumbed by his massive tool.
“You like the feel of my big fat cock shoved in your ass?”
“Yes! Please, fuck me. I love it!” My hands scrabbled at the sheets.
“You’re a little whore.”
I whimpered in agreement.
“Are you mine, Lucy?”
“Yes. Yes, I’m yours.”
His hands clenched in my hair and he breathed on my neck. “Mine. You’re mine.” His hands roved over me and I felt his ownership deep inside, deeper even than he fucked me. Deeper than the blue of his eyes. He touched me in all the places that thrilled me, tapping my clit, pinching my nipples, until I was shuddering to come. “Oh, please, Matthew!” I howled as his cock jerked in and out of my ass, fast, slow, shallow and deep.
“You want to come?”
“Please, I want to come with your cock in my ass.”
He made a growl of assent and we came together, and I basked in all my favorite pleasures.
The clutch of his hands, the strength of his thrusts, his breath rasping against my ear. Afterward he held me a long time, and he asked me again, “Are you mine?” The answer, of course, was “Yes, I am.”
“Am I your dominant boyfriend?”
“I don’t know. Are you?”