Mercy

“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.