Beg For Mercy: A Dark Conclusion

by Lucian Bane

  “Right.” But Sade wasn’t entirely sure and really wanted to be, wanted to know what he had in mind to get answers from the sick fuck.

  Kane chuckled. “Finish up, son,” he said.

  Sade chugged the rest of the water, feeling like he was tying his own noose. When he was done, he stared at Kane, waiting for whatever was coming.

  He threw his head back and laughed, like somebody who’d held it in for too long. “I know that look,” he said, wagging his finger at him. “You’re wondering what in the world is Kane going to do to crack that nut.”

  Sade wasn’t sure if he meant his nut or the Abe nut. “Right.”

  “See, that’s the interesting part of this job that I’m very anxious to teach you about.” He turned a little more on the bed toward Sade. “There’s really only two things you need to remember at all times when on a job of this nature.” He held up his thumb and pointer finger. “One. It’s never about what you do to a criminal, but how you do it. Two. It’s never about how you do it to a criminal, but why.” His gaze burned with a dark passion. “And the latter… should always govern the former.” He popped his brows and grinned, making Sade’s insides dance in anticipation at knowing—no, seeing—exactly what the fuck he meant.

  “Well,” he said, his tone final as he stood. “It’s been sweet having tea time with you son, but I told Mercy you were all hers at eleven. He looked around. “I also told her I’d have you ready for when she comes.” He turned to Sade with inquisitive brows. “Your restraints?”

  Panic slammed Sade at those words. Here it was. Dismemberment time. “Under the bed.” Sade got them for him to show he had no qualms about punishments.

  Kane took the restraints and held them up with a smile. “My girl,” he said with soft pride before flicking his finger at Sade. “Assume the position.”

  Sade did, which was that annoying coffin form. “She ties the chain to the foot of the bed and the wrist chain to the feet.”

  “Of course,” he said, impressed, glancing at Sade as he prepared the restraints. “She’s special, isn’t she?”

  Sade’s heart hammered hard. “One of a kind.”

  After Kane got him secure, he raked a hand through his hair, looking around. This was it. Tie him up and do God only knew. He shot his arm out and looked at his watch. “That’s it for me,” he said, walking off, confusing the fuck out of Sade. “Now son,” he said carefully, turning at the door. “In less than an hour, your bladder will be screaming for release. You can either hold it and take the pain until Mercy gets here in two hours… or, you can piss on yourself and get relief. Both options will cost something.” He angled his head at Sade. “When I see you again, I want to know which you chose, and why. And at that time, I’ll share with you why you’re not eating your dick right now, for hurting my daughter.”

  Shame and relief hit Sade at the same moment. That was all he’d planned to do? Pain he could take, but he wasn’t ready to die or lose his dick, not when he needed it for Mercy.

  “I’m headed to see your mother now,” he said, opening the door. “She’s been in a funk since we left for the island. She thinks I can’t see it, but it’s been stormy days for her and she’s not talking about it.”

  Sade studied Kane, focusing on his mother now. Had she not told him about his little sick confession? He realized then why she might not. Who wanted to ever voice how they’d failed their only child? “Hey,” Sade called.

  Kane waited in the half open door.

  “I uh. I think I know what’s wrong with mom.” He only responded with a blank stare and Sade hurried before he lost his nerve and puked the water up. “I had a talk with her. She… found out some things my father did that she didn’t know, but I swear to fuck, I thought she knew it or I wouldn’t have said it.”

  Kane’s body sagged a little and he hung his head. “Jesus,” he said softly. “I was going insane trying to figure out what I’d done wrong. Now, I wished it were me, not that. You have no idea how long it’s taken me to convince her she was doing the right thing all those years. It was a daily fight. Daily,” he stressed with a quiet vigor.

  “I’m really fucking sorry,” Sade said. “Not just about this but… about what I did to Mercy, you have to know that.”

  “I know, son. I know you love both of those women more than your own life,” he said so very confidently. “Sometimes these things are meant to come out. Need to. But only the good Lord can help with the things that bite into the soul.” He shut the door only to open it again and stick his head back in. “Oh and then there are God’s little helpers in the world. And your’s plans to change your bad-ass into a harmless little pumpkin.” He gave a slow genuine grin with a wink like he couldn’t wait for the torture to begin, then shut the door.

  Chapter Fifteen

  Jesus Christ, wow. Pent up anxiety slowly left, deflating Sade’s body until he laid there, gasping in the aftermath. As it was, anytime Sade was in that man’s presence for any length of time, he felt like he’d gotten a backstage pass to undeserved fame. But to be in that sacred space without knowing what the outcome would be, took him back to that first time he found Kane’s red crosshairs flickering on his body in the dark. Yeah, he was rescuing him, but when he hadn’t known that, it was one awe-full experience. Even now, somewhere in his mind, his guilty dirty mind, he waited for the shoe to fall. The poison in the water he just drank to kick in. The microscopic bomb he’d somehow slipped in one of the bottles to explode in his gut. Or his dick when he was pissing all that out.

  Speaking of pissing, his bladder was already screaming. And salvation in the form of Mercy was still two hours away. Kane’s words replayed in his head, his little riddle. Hold it or piss. And tell him why he chose which. He was holding it. He just needed to figure out the why part. He was sure it was some kind of test and Sade wanted to pass it.

  Wow, he was actually going to be working with him. He should start up a training routine. And how convenient that he was now next to the gym.

  Setting up shop. For days. Fuck, and what kind of cover-job were they supposed to have, and how was he supposed to keep that from the soul meshing, mind melding Mercy? And what about his mother? Jesus, they had better be fucking good to get past those two.

  Another wave of rabid excitement rolled through him. He’d get to be in the presence of that sick motherfucker again. Wonder how ole’ Abe would react to seeing him while his feet weren’t nailed to the floor.

  ****

  Mercy had finally done it, she’d found that center, that heavenly center where she once used to be, the one she had just before her father had supposedly died. The one she’d semi-regained when she’d found Sade’s file outside her door and found reason to live again. Then she realized no, this center was different. Not more centered, more… deep. She’d grown, she could feel it. She was stronger. Thank fuck, she needed it. Amazing how failing epically could grow a person.

  Now if only she could find the right damn outfit to express that inner kick-ass-goddess. Problem was, she’d never dressed the part, but now… now seemed important enough to, it seemed right. She yanked a black dress out of the closet and put it to her body. It brought back memories from the last bat cave they’d hid out at. The party, in particular. Hmm. Dancing would’ve been nice to do with Sade. Too bad he had to be restrained. Flashes of him naked with his legs open and his cock standing tall, face tight and sexy in orgasm sent heat flooding her womb and clit. Okay, not too bad.

  She glanced at the clock. Shit, twenty minutes. Eleven o-clock. Felt like Cinderella in reverse. At the stroke of midnight, the spell would begin. She was to be there with… something sexual. Something non-rough, non-mean, non-violent in any way. And dammit, she still hadn’t settled on any particular routine, she was trusting that the answer would present itself when the time came. Then she recalled her I’ll finish you later promise. Well, she’d definitely be making good on that one.

  But there was one thing she’d settled on after explaining to her dad
what set Sade off the last time—the use of his Christian name. She recalled her father’s words, “Damn those who crush the innocent. But blessed be the ones who restore that which was stolen.”

  Johnathon was his birth name. Desecrated, raped, and ruined. New beginnings were definitely important but that particular thing right there seemed to demand more. Maybe she couldn’t reclaim the innocence stolen from him, but she could reclaim him—Johnathon Lee. Just the thought of somebody daring to strip a person of their identity and force them into another? For their pleasure? Money? Fucking tragic. How fucking dare they?

  Well they wouldn’t. Not if she had anything to do with it. She would reclaim the name. And she would create the man he was always destined to become. Life had knocked him off track for a couple of years, that’s all. She’d help him get back on.

  Now all she had to do is win his trust and cooperation in that one.

  She suddenly had the idea of a sensual massage. Where she touched sensually next to things that make him go mmmm mmm, ohhhh, Mercy, fuck yes. She giggled, thinking she could even do it naked. Maybe even… let herself get off to it. He definitely liked that and she needed to use all her ammunition in this one. Nobody said it had to be amazing or technical, it just needed to be something different to throw off the groove gripping his ass. Mmmm, his ass… his fine, perfect ass.

  Did he even realize what he did to her? Maybe she should make more of a habit of verbalizing that. Verbal stimulation. She added that to her growing list of harmless pleasures. God, she needed more.

  Mercy dressed to the hilt, and made her way quietly to the basement stairs. She didn’t really want to be seen—

  “Hi sweetheart.”

  Mercy yelped and spun to see her father about to go into his bedroom. “Hi Dad,” she waved.

  “You look lovely, baby. Go teach our boy some manners. Oh,” he said. “He’ll be needing the facilities as soon as you get there.” He winked and continued into his bedroom, leaving Mercy to hurry down the stairs in worry over what that meant. What had her father done? Shit shit.

  She threw open the door at the basement and found him chained in bed. “Fuck baby, get the jar, quick.”

  “Pee?”

  “Yes,” he gasped.

  She flew to the bathroom, fetched the jar and hurried back. “What did he do?” she gasped, pulling his shorts down while he turned his hips. “Don’t talk, don’t talk, just go.” She slid the jar over his thick cock and he went, his body trembling in strain as he emptied his seriously over full bladder with loud groans and gasps.

  “I am soooooo very sorry.” She eyed the quickly filling jar, wincing. “Shit, you may need to angle more for me. “Why are you tied up?”

  “Your dad,” he gasped.

  “What? Why? What did he do?” She carefully removed the makeshift toilet and slowly walked it to the bathroom to dump it. After washing her hands, she wet a washcloth and brought it back then proceeded to dab it on the head of his cock. “There, all clean.” She raised his underwear and shorts back over it, only to find it didn’t quite cover him. “Uh…” she reached in the band and poked it lower.

  He groaned and rolled his hips, pushing it back out. “How about you untie me so I can stretch my legs?”

  She glanced at him.

  “Trust me, I’m not going anywhere after having a talk with your father,” he mumbled.

  She winced, not even wanting to know the details of that. “Thirty minutes?”

  “Anything, my ass is fucking numb.”

  “Okay, okay.” Mercy’s heart raced at the idea of freeing him even though she didn’t feel like he would do anything stupid. “Are you sure you’re not going to beat me up?” she half joked, more worried about him running while she got the keys from the little drawer next to the table. She regarded him when she sat on the bed by his feet and found him brow quirking her. “What! It’s a legitimate question.”

  “Is that what you would do?”

  She thought about that for a second and half shrugged. “I… don’t think so.”

  He snorted. “Yeah well you’re stuck performing therapy on me tonight, doc. I wouldn’t miss it for the world.”

  “I’m glad,” she said, honestly, excitement making her nearly nauseous. She just hoped he thought that when she told him about using his real name. She was on his last wrist when she eyed him. “Last one,” she sang.

  He answered her with an angled stare.

  “God, you’re making me nervous,” she mumbled, unlocking the final lock then stepping back from the bed. “There you go.”

  He rubbed his wrists and sat up, putting his feet on the floor, his back facing her. He took a deep breath and let it out, his head hanging.

  “You need me to help you do anything?”

  “Nah,” he mumbled, sounding… depressed almost.

  “Sooo,” she clapped. “Thirty minutes and then it’s therapy time and then after therapy, you’re free to go as you please.” She hoped that good news lightened his mood but she saw no real need to keep him restrained now that everybody was back.

  “Good. I want to start working out,” he mumbled.

  He stood and stretched and Mercy’s eyes devoured the bulge and flex of muscles—especially his ass in those black shorts almost as fitted as the matching briefs beneath. He tossed his head side to side and took a few steps while swinging his arms around. The tension in her body said any second he’d bolt for the door or run at her and do something.

  He made his way slowly around the room, then went into the bathroom. “Think I’ll shower if that’s good with you, doc.”

  Shower? “What about your bandage?”

  “I’ll watch it.”

  She made her way closer to the bathroom. “You need help?”

  She heard him either snort or laugh lightly. “I don’t think that would be wise, doc.”

  “Okay, I’m here if you need any actual help. Nothing sexual I mean.”

  “Right,” he said just as the shower came on.

  God he was acting weird. Quiet. What had her dad talked to him about? Is that what put him in this mood or was it something else?

  She sighed, hating to think he didn’t want to be doing any of this. She busied herself around the room, not allowing any of the negative ideas to fester in her head. The plan was straightforward. She was helping a broken man that didn’t believe he could come out of all that darkness around him.

  He finally came out of the bathroom and Mercy’s heart dropped as he strolled out naked and headed toward the bed where she sat, waiting. “You’ll need to dress it again, it fell off.”

  She realized after she unglued her eyes from his engorged cock what he meant. “Oh,” she cleared her throat. “Yeah, I can do that.”

  “You’re in my spot, doc,” he said as he approached.

  She hopped up and gave him plenty of room, trying not to see him as he sat on the bed then laid down, plopping his thick legs open with a sigh. Again, her gaze locked on his action packed groin. At least some part of him seemed eager to start therapy. That was good. She tried to calm her fear and excitement.

  He held his hands up, indicating he was ready and Mercy hurried to restrain him. Then she suddenly realized that maybe she wanted his arms up. And… his legs open. Would be easier to access the tools. Hmm. Maybe she could settle for legs untied and just have his hands bound. If things went well, she could rework the restraints to accommodate what she wanted next time.

  After she secured his hands, she said, “If you don’t mind, I’ll leave your legs free.”

  He eyed her now, drawing up his leg. “Whatever you need.”

  She straightened and met his gaze, her stomach tensing at finding it a hundred degrees hotter. His lips remained parted as he followed her movement to the foot of the bed. As she went and stood at the front of it, facing him, she knew what personality she needed to be and what route to take tonight. The same one she’d started, before he went nuts. The naughty doctor patient role fantasy. It seeme
d to have been working quite well. And now that he was restrained, she could freely do as she wanted or needed without worrying about another volcanic eruption.

  But first… “I need to… talk to you about renegotiating the contract.” She miraculously kept her voice firm and confident.

  “Talk,” he ordered, softly.

  “Your name,” she jumped right in. “The one that you don’t like me using?”

  “What about it?” Caution edged his deep tone.

  “Long story or short story?”

  “Short.”

  “Okay,” she said, taking a breath. “Here’s the thing. It’s your birth name. The name your mother chose for you. Things have happened that make you not like your name, and I get that.

  “Short, doc.”

  She paused briefly, focusing on the point. “I think it’s detrimental to my therapy that we use your Christian name… during sessions only.”

  He eyed her, his gaze unreadable. “Det-ri-mental.” He dragged out the word.

  She nodded. “Absolutely. This is your name and I think… we should reclaim it.”

  “Do you,” he said, his eyes piercing and unusually clear.

  “I do.”

  Chapter Sixteen

  Sade’s heart was hammering as he stared at his angel. Not because of her contract negotiation request, but with her reasoning. She wanted to fucking reclaim his name. Walk right into his nightmares dressed in a fuck me black dress, delicious blood red lips, green jeweled eyes framed in angelic lashes, and just take it the fuck back? God, could she get any more irresistible?

  And ever since her father had been in there to talk to him, something had changed. He no longer felt driven to run in the opposite direction of her little therapy classes, but instead, headlong into it. And to hear her say she wanted to be his angel of mercy, had his cock beyond desperate for her touch, her lips, her fucking healing however she wanted to bring it. Because if it were possible, if anybody could do it, Mercy could. That much he knew. And he also knew that he craved to let her try. Try baby, try as long as your heart’s content.