The One Called Mercy Ch. 02byRedHairedandFriendly©
The party that Henry Tatewater had decided to throw to honor his father's memory was in fact nothing more than a way for Tatewater to make himself known to the more elite members of society. He had spared no expense in preparing for his self-appointed introduction, spending hundreds on wine and fine foods, as well as clothing for himself and for Mercy. The young woman looked stunning and as she sipped on a glass of wine, her presence was noted by all.
One man in particular had been introduced to Tatewater as Captain James Blackhawk. He was a guest of Lord and Lady Whitmeyer and the Whitmeyer's were thrilled that Blackhawk had been able attend a lavish affair before taking his leave of their hospitality. As Blackhawk gazed at Mercy Lewis and watched her tongue dart out to taste the wine on her lips, he too found himself thankful that Tatewater had arrived and had brought with him a fine gem of a companion. He had been quick to discover that Mercy was not married, nor betrothed to Tatewater, and was in fact his Mistress.
His gaze darted around the room, taking note of who was present and who was not. His time within the walls of Whitmeyer estate had paid off, thanks to mutual benefits of a partnership with the Lord and Lady. He had discovered the routes of various ships that would be departing over the next four months as well as their cargo. He had planned on purchasing a few whores for his trip and his men, but with the arrival of Mercy Lewis, that plan would be altered slightly. His desire for her had been instant and when he wanted something, he rarely hesitated in grasping it.
James picked up a glass of wine, when a servant passed by him and drank deeply of the crimson fluid. He caught sight of Henry Tatewater and noticed that he seemed to be using a large black servant as a support beam. Blackhawk made his way toward the host of the party and picked up on the conversation that was flowing heavily around Tatewater. Even though Tatewater's words were slurred and excessively hard to comprehend, Blackhawk could tell that the man was itching to prove himself at the gaming tables. James couldn't blame him, not really, it was what most newcomers to society did. They had to preen their feathers to show their importance to the world around them. In James Blackhawk's mind, it was often their undoing.
"Ah, here is Blackhawk," Henry said when he caught James approaching.
"Yes, here I am and what are we discussing?" James asked, before giving a once over to the group of men who were conversing with Tatewater. He noticed Lord Everett Whitmeyer as well as Lord Gregory, Samuel Reuben, and Morgan Benedict. All four gentlemen were notorious gamblers and a game involving them would be one that would make Blackhawk work for what he wanted. He glanced toward Mercy who was in deep conversation with Lady Whitmeyer. He caught Evelyn Whitmeyer's eyes and smiled warmly. His friend smiled back before returning her attentions to Mercy.
"Well, will you join us?" Everett Whitmeyer was saying, pulling James back to the conversation that he'd eavesdropped in on.
"What are the stakes?" he asked. "I've plenty of money and am leaving in the morning, so loosing it doesn't sit well with me."
The other men laughed. Lord Whitmeyer lifted his drink and finished its contents. "We're betting our beloved partners. One week of sexual bliss."
James chuckled. "And all your ladies are in agreement?" James knew Evelyn Whitmeyer would be more than willing to do as her husband demanded, including servicing one of his friends. And he'd heard rumors that Lord Gregory's wife was just as submissive ad Evelyn. He did not know a lot about Samuel Reuben, or Morgan Benedict, except that neither was married and Benedict had a long-time mistress named Isabell. He had seen Isabell at a few of Whitmeyer's parties, but had not had an opportunity to enjoy her charms and Reuben was rumored to be between partners. "What lady has Sir Reuben brought with him this evening?" James asked, looking around at the crowd of laughing and dancing women.
"See the blonde by the window, the one almost sitting on Cartwater's lap?" Samuel said, as he lifted his drink to his lips. He drew deeply from it, swallowed the cool beverage and grinned. "She is mine and she too will agree to whatever I desire."
"But alas, I did not bring a lady," James said. "So I come to the table empty handed."
"Evelyn will be your lady," Whitmeyer answered.
"Two weeks then if I lose for poor Lady Whitmeyer?" James countered. "Are you sure you could survive that long without her?"
"Well, I won't agree to two consecutive weeks," he laughed.
"Then count me in," James said, then turned to Henry Tatewater, "I assume your lady, Ms. Mercy will concede to your wishes as well?"
Henry laughed and clapped James on the back. "I'll not be loosing," he said, "but yes, my Mercy will do as she's told, or receive a beating and still be taken. She is a good slut, one that knows her place, though I have learned she purposely riles me so that the whip is laid upon her flesh with more bite."
James' lips rose in a smirk and his cock stiffened slightly. "She craves the whip?"
"Aye, very much. I have learned to read her. I know when she's purposely drawing my anger out and when she's accidentally gone to far."
"Let us retire to another room then," James said and the other men agreed.
As they left the room, they discussed further the rules of the game. They would play for coin until only two men remained, and then the ladies would be "placed in the pot". The loser would forfeit his companion or wife immediately and would retrieve her exactly one week later at the exact hour that the game was concluded. Whitmeyer vouched for Captain James Blackhawk and when the door closed on the small group, the fate of their ladies were held in their hands.
The party had mellowed out shortly after the group of men left. Mercy had found herself occupied by a group of women who seemed to be with escorts. It wasn't until a servant came to her and the other women that they were told where their companions and husbands were. "Gaming, is one of man's greatest vices," Evelyn Whitmeyer said, before taking Mercy's hand and leading the group away from the stale smoke-filled air of the ballroom.
They left the house, and walked along the garden, enjoying the fresh night air and the soft sound of nocturnal life. Eventually they made their way to a gazebo, that was illuminated by kerosene lamps. "Have you enjoyed your stay here with Tatewater?" Evelyn asked, once the women sat down on the smooth polished and painted benches that lined the gazebo.
"I have," Mercy admitted. "It's a lovely home and he is a wonderful Master."
The other women smiled and nodded their heads. "We thought that was your role here, but none of us were entirely sure," Samuel's companion Heather said, before reaching out to touch Mercy's hand. "Is he a kind Master?"
"Yes, I believe he is. He is my first, unless one counts my father."
"Your father? Did he train you?" Heather asked.
Mercy's eyes grew wide and held a shocked expression. "Oh heaven's no. My father was a mean bastard, and he had a firm hand, but when he sold me to Master, I was a virgin."
"Your father sold you?" Evelyn asked.
"Yes, he did. A plot of land bordered on and he wanted it. Master's wife had passed, leaving him four children and no bed partner. I was a virgin and from what Master has told me, he desired me for a long time, but knew I was not of age. I was sold on my eighteenth birthday. I've been with my Master for three years."
"And you embrace all he does?" another of the women asked.
"I know nothing else. I was given great advice by one of Master's servants. She said to learn what I liked sexually, embrace it, welcome it and use it to my advantage. I have chosen to do that and I have learned what makes me shiver and tremble and," she smiled wide, "come."
Evelyn chuckled softly. "You are still innocent. You speak so openly about your lifestyle and in this company, a company of strangers. You must guard yourself, not all women are as open about their lifestyle as we women are. We," she lifted her hand and waved to the ladies, "are all a part of a small group of nobles that often attend parties that others would call perverse and sinful. Tatewater's father was a member, and I'm sure after tonight he will be embraced by the gentlemen he is gambling with."
"If it means an extended stay in the city, then I pray he is," Mercy admitted. "The children I spoke of, they do not care for me. But then again I am not a mother. I never had one, and I know nothing of children. I was a farmer's daughter and I am a man's playmate. I am not motherly."
The group laughed and then stood when several bodies began to approach. At the lead were Lord Whitmeyer and James Blackhawk. Evelyn went to her husband, while the other ladies moved to their respective man's side. Mercy frowned when Tatewater did not appear to be with the group. The man she'd met as Captain James Blackhawk came forth and presented her with a slip of paper. "Ms. Mercy, Mister Tatewater asked me to give this to you."
Mercy took the paper and glanced at the other women. She could not read their expressions, but she felt the concern mirrored in their eyes. She opened the parchment and read the words written by her Master's hand. Her gaze shot to Blackhawk's and then back to the paper, which she again read. "I see," she whispered, before folding the paper back and slipping it into the hidden pocket of her dress. "Am I allowed to take the gifts my Mas...that Mister Tatewater has given me?"
"Just a few things. Jewels, a coat or two, perhaps a few gowns and underclothes, but for the most part your role will not change."
"And this is permanent?" she asked, no longer looking to the women or men that stood at the edge of their conversation.
"Yes," James said, "but you should know he fought hard for you. He put up his entire estate and risked everything before he gave up you. I gave him back all his wealth for the right to make you mine."
"And you are like them?" she asked, nodding her head to the group of men and women. "You understand what my role has always been with Mas...," she cleared her throat, "Henry?"
"I am and your role, as I said before will continue." Blackhawk turned to the group. "Lady Whitmeyer would you help my new pet gather her things. My crew and I will be leaving as scheduled and she will be accompanying me."
"Your crew?" Mercy asked. The tone of her voice changed instantly. "What crew do you speak of?"
James grinned. "I am a Captain, pet. We will travel the sea together. I assume you've never been off land?"
"No, I have not," she admitted.
"Your sea legs will eventually come, and when they do, we will explore one another."
"My sea legs?"
Evelyn stepped up and took Mercy's elbow. "The first week or two at sea will be hell, but afterward I am sure you'll adjust," she said, "come Mercy let us pack your things." Lady Whitmeyer then turned to James. "Is she allowed to say goodbye to Tatewater?"
"I have no desire to," Mercy whispered as the realization that she had just been passed off to another man, a man more strange to her than Tatewater had been, hit her. She clutched her stomach and felt sick. Evelyn noticed the change and pulled her up against her. The two women left the group behind and made their way back toward the mansion. Once inside a servant appeared and led Evelyn, with Mercy in tow, up to Mercy's chamber.
Henry Tatewater did not appear when Mercy returned to the foyer of his home, nor did she see him step out of the house as the carriage in which she, Blackhawk and the Whitmeyers rode away in. She turned away and wiped a stray tear from her eye. She felt Evelyn's fingers squeeze her hand. "Blackhawk will provide for you," Evelyn whispered.
"In all ways?" Mercy asked back.
Evelyn smiled warmly and whispered even lower than before, "Oh my dear sweet Mercy. I have a feeling you are a bundle of untapped energy and James will serve you well."
Mercy felt her nipples grow taut and a sliver of moisture seeped from her pussy lips. The words Evelyn spoke had been said in such a way that Mercy's whole body responded. Her pulse began to race. Her eyes dilated and her sex throbbed in anticipation of her first encounter with Captain James Blackhawk.
When the carriage pulled up to the Whitmeyer estate, Mercy wondered if her new Master would seek her company or would he wait until they were aboard his ship. A rush of desire and lust flowed through her, soaking the lace panties that barely covered her bare mound.
The men helped their ladies from the carriage and then it was sent to the docks, where Mercy's belongings would be unloaded and stored in the Captain's cabin. Mercy followed behind James, as did Evelyn with her husband Everett. Once inside, Evelyn helped her husband with his coat and Mercy followed suit. Both women were thanked and James asked his hostess to show Mercy to his chambers. Mercy glanced up at James and saw desire and hunger in his eyes. A soft whimper slipped past her lips when she saw James smirk. "Tatewater claims you like the feel of a whip," he said to Mercy. "Is that true?"
Mercy swallowed the lump that had suddenly appeared deep within her throat. "Yes, Sir, it is."
James continued to stare at Mercy, but he spoke to Evelyn. "Eve, have her placed on the cross and lay out the red-corded snake whip." Captain Blackhawk watched Mercy's lips tremble and her chest rise suddenly from the draw of breath she took. He felt his cock rise and knew that he had made the right choice in pushing Tatewater into relinquishing the one called Mercy.
He along with Everett watched the two women leave. When they were gone Everett turned and asked, "How long will you keep her?"
James laughed. "As long as I'm able," he answered. "I have a feeling there is more to Ms Mercy than Henry Tatewater realized."
Everett nodded his head. "I have a feeling Eve will have much to tell me when she finishes preparing your newest prize. Let us grab a drink before we retire," Everett quickly added, then led his guest and long-time friend toward his study. The two men drank and Everett asked James another telling question. "Will you share her with your men and the other women you have commissioned for the trip?"
"Most likely. I am curious how well Tatewater trained her."
Everett nodded his head in understanding. "From what I know of Tatewater, he's a wet pup in regards to what you and I enjoy. His father though," a long sigh escaped his lips, "that was a cruel man. Evelyn and I both warned women away from him. Some listened, others did not."
"So you don't believe she's reached her full potential?"
James Blackhawk's friend laughed. "I doubt it's even been breached."
James finished his drink, smiled wide and took his leave. He headed up to the chambers that had been assigned to him, and opened the door. Much to his delight Evelyn had done as he'd instructed and his new pet was securely tied to the Saint Andrew's, facing him. She had been stripped of her lovely gown and her body shimmered in the light. Evelyn had gone one step further to please her house guest enjoyed by rubbing one of her fruited lotions into Mercy's skin. "Tell me," he said, after shutting the door behind him, "did Evelyn make you come as she massaged the," he sniffed the air, "cherry lotion into your skin?"
Mercy shook her head no and answered the same with a soft voice. "She did however bring me close several times."
James grinned. "So Tatewater taught you to control your orgasms?"
"No Sir. Ruth did."
"Ruth?" he asked as he slowly began to disrobe. "Tatewater had multiple pets?"
Mercy shook her head. "He had slaves, not pets. Though I was the only one he assigned names too, so perhaps I was his only pet."
James reached her side, his clothing left scattered behind him, and cupped one of her breasts. He rubbed his thumb across the pert nipple and smiled when it hardened further. "And why did you wish to control your climaxes?" he asked, as he rolled the pink jewel between his fingers and watched how its twin responded to being ignored.
A soft moan of pleasure spilled past Mercy's lips. "It was selfish of me, I know. But if I came too soon, he would fuck me and then the ride would be over. As you know I enjoy the whip and I wanted to prolong the beatings in order to keep them coming."
"Your honesty is refreshing," he whispered, before running his palm down her ribcage and watching her jerk from his touch. "Ticklish?"
He pressed his palm against her sex, cupping it so that his fingers rested at the base of her slit. He curled his fingers and divided her slick mound as he slid his hand upward. "Evelyn did well, in preparing you," he whispered, as he brought his soaked fingers to his lips. He watched Mercy's expression while he sucked on the nectar that coated his flesh. "Tell me more about your experiences within the bedroom of Tatewater. Have you had other men? And this Ruth you speak of, tell me about her."
Mercy shared with him her past and described to him what Tatewater did to her. As she spoke, James touched her breasts, arms, hips, and teased her pussy hole with his fingers. "So you've only lain with one woman and Tatewater had a fetish for breast milk."
"Yes," Mercy whispered in a voice that spoke of her rising passion.
"And you, my pet," James said as he reached for the whip that Evelyn had left hanging on a peg near the cross, "you have a fetish for beatings?"
Her gaze darted to the fingers that were now curled around the whips handle. She licked her lips and then shifted her gaze back to his face. "Yes," she said, before taking a breath and asking him, "Do you wish me to behave any particular way?"
James snapped the whip and watched her tremble. He reached between her legs and felt fresh juices. "You will always address me as either Sir, or Captain. You do not need to hold back your climaxes. I will beat you until you beg for me to stop and then if I feel you are not quite done, I will continue to beat you. So come, dear pet as many times as you wish, as hard as you wish." He opened her mouth with his hands and fed her some of her juices. "You are my pet. Rarely will I address you as Mercy. You will walk behind me, but anticipate my move and when I have need of your services, no matter what they are, or where they are, or who is there to witness us -- you will perform for me. Do you understand?"
She shook her head yes and then answered with a shaky voice. "I understand, Sir. I wish only to please you."
"And in truth," he said, before stepping back and snapping the whip again, "I wish to please you as well as myself."
Her eyes widened and she watched him lift his arm. Just as the leather sailed through the air, Mercy kept her eyes open until the last second. Just as the tip hit her right nipple, she closed her eyes. Instant pleasure skated through her breasts and down to her sex. She gasped as a second biting sting was placed on the center of her left tit. Again she felt the heat of the kiss dance across her skin and shoot through to her abdomen. Her back arched and her arms and legs, that were bound to the cross, twisted slightly, almost as if they were begging to be caressed too.
Much to her delight her new Master saw her needs and soon the whip was laid across her sex, her thighs, her upper arms. The kisses did not break skin, but they left the telling marks of pink trails that spoke of her willingness to submit to the pain and use it for pleasure.
"Don't hold back, pet."
James' voice was still foreign to her, but she knew there was an edge of anger in it. She opened her eyes and saw him lifting his hand to deliver another arcing blow to her skin. The smack landed squarely on her pussy and brought such an intense amount of joy to Mercy that her climax erupted from her tight channel.