Mercy by Annabel Joseph

then he thrust one of his fingers into my ass.
    “Oh God!” I cried out at the wicked sensation of it. Mercy. Mercy. Mercy. God, if he didn’t let me come… I bucked and strained under him, desperate for release.
    “No, you may not come. You’re still being punished.”
    I tensed all over. I held my breath. I writhed back against him in entreaty.
    “Do not, Lucy. I’ll tear you up if you do.”
    I cried, tensing every muscle in my body, and by some miracle, I managed not to come.
    But oh, I cried. I sobbed and I shuddered that he wouldn’t let me have my release. He pulled away from me after he finished and went to sit on the couch. I suppose he looked at me, but I was facing away from him, so all he got was an eyeful of my sore, red ass.
    “Do you think you can remember the rules now?”
    “I...I’ll try .“
    “No trying. Yes or no?”
    “Yes, sir, I’ll remember the rules.”
    “I’m very proud of you for not coming, for not breaking that rule. I know it wasn’t easy, especially when I played with your ass. You loved that, didn’t you, you little slut?”
    I whimpered softly.
    “Answer me. Whining is not an answer.”
    “Yes, sir,” I admitted, blushing red.
    “ Yes, Matthew, I loved when you played with my ass ,” he prompted.
    “Yes, Matthew, I loved when you played with my ass.” Always truth with him. My clit was teeming. I was absolutely aching with unsatisfied lust.
    “I love your ass. I can’t wait to fuck it. I’m seriously going to love fucking your ass, but you’re way too small. I can hardly get one finger in there as it is now. I’m going to have to train your little asshole to take my cock.”
    “Thank you, Matthew,” I said. I don’t know why. It seemed like an appropriate response.
    He laughed in appreciation. “Good answer. Don’t move.” He got up and got a plug from the armoire. Not too big, nowhere near as big as his cock, but when he lubed it up and began to work it into my ass, I moaned, afraid.
    “Open. Open,” he breathed, pushing it in slowly, forward and back. “It’s going in one way or another. This is how we begin. This is how we train your tiny little asshole for bigger and better things.”
    I pressed my face to the ottoman, clenched my helpless fists where they were cuffed near the floor, tried to be open as he said. The encouraging sounds he made barely registered over the moans he wrenched from me, the strange feeling of being pried open there for the first time. I writhed and shivered while he seated it inside me, slowly, inexorably to the hilt. My clit felt huge, distended with excitement and pleasure, oozing with lust. I ground it against the ottoman, feeling every bit the whore he’d accused me of being. Then he leaned forward over me and reached around to pinch my nipples. He pulled and teased until they ached, until my entire body was one huge, shuddering throb of need and tension. Then he pressed against me and whispered, “Lucy, come.”
    Thank God . I came like a lost, crazed maniac, struggling under him. He firmly held me down. I was his creature, his whore. I was at his mercy, remade by him into something completely new and shameless. As I lay gasping, turned inside out by his power to transform me, he leaned down and bit me on the neck hard and whispered, “Good girl. You’re such a beautiful good girl.”
     

 
     
    Chapter Six: Good Girl
     
    Yes, I was his good girl, at least I tried to be. From that first nasty session, it got nastier fast. Every time I visited he was more depraved, more inventive, kinkier. And me, I looked forward to our times together with a lust that threatened to overpower my mind. I let him do anything he wanted, anything he could come up with, and that simple, informal arrangement defined our relationship. There were only two things I didn’t allow him: to fuck me without a condom, and to mark any part of me but my ass.
    He couldn’t mark my legs or back because of dancing. “Oh my God,” Grégoire had