The One Called Mercy Ch. 02

Fluids rushed out of her, coating her legs and splashing against the rug that rested under the cross. James hit her again and again, until she was bucking, thrashing and pulling at her restraints. Not once had she begged him to stop, in truth he stopped fearing he would hurt her. He shook his head in amazement as he walked back to her, dropping the whip when he reached her side.

James went to his knees and began to drink the honey from her opening. He felt the heat of her sex and cooled it with his tongue, more juice rushed out to coat his face. He laughed and released her ankles, then quickly rose up and freed her arms.

Mercy fell into him, wrapping her long legs around his hips and her arms around his shoulders. He carried her to the bed, where he laid her down. James wasted no time in plunging his cock into her warm haven. She welcomed him by flexing her muscles and forcing him to drag his thick rod out of her tight embrace. His piston action drove her to another climax. He felt her nails bite at his skin as she raked them down his arms. He drilled harder, until he felt his balls draw up and his come explode.

Spent from the physical and mental tole that their coupling placed upon them, James drew his cock from Mercy, pushed her firmly but gently across the bed, then joined her. He pulled her tightly against him, covered them both with the thick blankets provided by his hosts and promptly fell asleep. Mercy, barely conscious, due to the passion she'd experienced, was quick to follow.

When morning came the Lord and Lady of the house broke their fast with their guests and wished them safe travels. Evelyn hugged James, kissed his cheek and then brought Mercy into her arms and did the same. Everett shook his friend's hand and lifted Mercy's fingers to his lips. He drew the tips between his lips and sampled her skin with the tip of his tongue. "I do hope to have the pleasure of your company, when you return to our fair city."

Mercy blushed, lowered her gaze and whispered back, "If it pleases Sir, then honored I would be."

Everett grinned and chuckled low. "Yes, Tatewater fucked himself, didn't he?" The question was followed by James' low laughter and Evelyn's soft frown. Mercy however remained still and kept her thoughts to herself. Had she spoken them, they would have heard her thanking her former Master for his failure at the gaming table.

James and Mercy left and though she desired to please him while they rode in the carriage and made their way to the docks, he made no request for her lips, or her slick pussy. At the docks, she was passed off to a young man, who looked to be a few years younger than her. She soon learned he was one of the Captain's brothers. Martin Blackhawk was also the first mate and the youngest of the Blackhawk children, legitimate and illegitimate. He was eighteen and had been serving his brother since his early teen years.

"This is where the Captain resides," Martin was saying as he opened the door to what Mercy assumed was James' quarters. They stepped over the threshold and Martin pointed out his brother's belongings, as well as led her across the room to another door. Once it was opened, he ushered Mercy inside. "These are the sleeping quarters, and just behind that screen is where you can relieve yourself. We have a lad that disposes of such things twice a day, if you have need of him more often, just seek him out." Mercy shook her head and followed the young man back into James receiving room.

"Do you have any questions?" Martin asked.

Mercy laughed nervously. "I have many. This is my first time at sea so my experience is limited to what I am told. However, one question I have does not revolve around the ship itself, but its occupants."

"Oh?"

"Yes. I noticed there are women waiting to board the ship. I always thought that women on a ship was seen as unlucky. Though I assume that is not the case, since Sir is bringing his pet along and has done so prior to me."

Martin chuckled. "Captain James believes we make our own luck and women, keep his men happy. The women you see have been commissioned for this trip. None of them are being forced. They are all prostitutes, hand selected by Madam Evelyn and Mistress Isabell. They are clean and all know their place."

"And the men, Sir's crew, are they all clean?"

The young man smirked. "James doesn't check, but it doesn't matter does it? They are being paid and their bodies are ours, as your is the Captain's," he saw her cheeks grow flush and chuckled again, "but fear not, 'Sir' would not give you to a man who was cursed with warts or crabs. You're soft and succulent mound is safe -- at least from those particular curses." Martin winked and quickly changed the subject. "Your belongings will be brought on board and can be placed in the trunk at the end of the bed. It is yours to use, but not yours to hide away secrets from the Captain. It was a pleasure meeting you Mercy and I look forward to the day my brother allows me to taste the honey dripping from your cunt."

Mercy's gaze flew to Martin's and her breath caught in her throat. She said nothing as she felt the growing wetness between her thighs. "Yes, Mercy, you will eventually be given to me, as well as a few of the other men. And the women, yes, we will witness you and the whores." He reached down and rubbed his crotch. "I hope you get your sea legs soon," he whispered, before winking and leaving her alone.

She stood there, staring at the door in which Martin had closed when he left. The idea of being passed around to other men was both thrilling and unnerving to her. Martin, it seemed was kind and had a sense of humor. Would he be as skilled in the bedroom as the Captain? What of the other men? Would she please them and would they take her needs into consideration? The image of the women who had been waiting to board the ship rolled into her thoughts. She had only been with Ruth and though she often made the black woman come, she had only done so because it pleased her Master. The lessons she would learn under the firm hand of Captain James Blackhawk would surpass those of Tatewater. A shiver ran up Mercy's spine as she tried to comprehend all she'd experienced since being passed over to her new possessor.

It was another hour, if not two before Mercy saw James. He stepped into the room, closed the door and rolled his shoulders. "Martin is in charge and will be taking the ship out," he said, before pulling off his jacket and taking a seat at his desk. He stretched out and sighed heavily. "Come here pet, remove my boots, socks and rub my feet."

Mercy had been sitting on a bench when James entered, and upon seeing him, she rose. Now she walked over to him, then stopped when he lifted his hand. "On your knees," he told her. "First disrobe, it will make crawling to me much easier, and save the gown in which you wear from becoming too soiled."

He watched her chew on her lower lip as she realized her place would be at his feet. When she said nothing, and began to release the ties of her bodice, he relaxed. He was not in the mood to deal with a woman's pouting, or questioning. Tatewater had used Mercy for sex, which was what she was made for, but he would further her education, by showing her that the value of a woman was to serve man in all ways. He had allowed her to sleep beside him last night, her real lessons would begin today. "You are stunning," he whispered, once she was naked, "and your pussy glistens. Now, on your knees my pet and crawl to me."

Once again his cock jerked to life as she went to the floor and began to make her way toward him. Her breasts swayed and her gaze remained fixed on his feet. His mouth watered and his chest rose and fell with each breath that he took. When she reached him, she began to remove his boots, a task that was hard enough when poised on her knees, but a task worth watching.

As she struggled with the tight form-fitting boots, he watched her facial features take on a determined look. Her brow furrowed and her lips grimaced, but not once did she ask for assistance. Her breasts swayed and bounced angrily as she tugged and pulled, eventually when she freed one foot, she fell back on her ass, her legs spread wide and her chest rising as she drew in breath. The second foot was treated to the same tug-of-war, and James was rewarded the pleasure of her pussy lips being exposed when she fell back again.

With both boots off he stretched back out and she picked up his right foot. He closed his eyes as she manipulated the flesh and muscles, kneading the pads of his toes and the heel of his foot. When she slid her hands over the skin, he felt his insides melt. "Perfect," he whispered, and then smiled when he heard her sigh contently. James remained content with Mercy massaging out the aches and pains of life. He was not an old man, at least he liked to tell himself that thirty-nine was not old, though his brother Martin often contradicted him. The thought of his brother made him open his eyes. "You met Martin, didn't you?"

Mercy looked up from her task. "I did, Sir. He was kind enough to tell me where to place my belongings, and he shared with me some details of what will be expected of me."

James lifted a brow. "Did he?"

"Yes, Sir. He spoke of the women on board the ship, but only because I asked about them. He also told me that I would be given to other men and he looks forward to using me as well."

James laughed. "He's not one to mince words. Yes, you will be used by others, but not all the men. You are not here to be wined and dined, pet. You are here to service me and whomever I say. The men I give you to, they are not easily swayed by a pretty face. I do not need some suckling babe falling in love with what is mine and threatening me in order to 'free' her." He leaned in and cupped her right breast. "You are not free, pet. You do understand that, don't you?" James pinched her nipple and watched her gasp in pleasure. A knock on the door, made them both glance away from one another. He continued to tease the hardening bud, while giving permission to whomever had knocked.

"Not sure if you noticed or not, but we're on the water and have found a strong wind to carry us out," Martin said after stepping into the room. His gaze fell on Mercy and he grinned. "A fine wench indeed, brother."

"I am glad she meets your approval," James said with an air of sarcasm. "Are the other women being tended to?"

"Aye, a man has been assigned to each one and the girls know their roles and the men have been warned the girls are not theirs, but they are to protect them if necessary."

"Are they in danger?" Mercy asked, interrupting the conversation.

James frowned. "Pet, were either of us speaking to you?"

Mercy's lashes fluttered rapidly as the tone of his voice became stern and his gaze leveled. She recognized his displeasure with her and licked her lips. "No, Sir. My apologies."

He nodded his head and turned back to his brother. "She's a work in progress."

Mercy felt a wave of shame wash over her. She lowered her eyes and stared at her fingers.

Martin shrugged his shoulders. "She'll learn soon enough," he answered before turning his attentions back to his brother and the ship. The two men discussed the route in which they would be traveling and ignored the woman on the floor. When Martin left, James stood up and walked over to a cabinet. Mercy watched out of the corner of her eyes as he unlocked the doors. She heard the sound of metal touching metal. "Come here, pet."

She took a deep breath and crawled on her hands and knees to James. When she reached his side, he told her to rise up and rest on her knees. She did so and soon saw in his hand a metal ring and a thin chain. He reached down, opened the collar and placed it around her neck, the locked it with a small padlock. A chain was then hooked to the collar and he tugged gently on it. "Let us go topside and meet the others. Only if you feel you must expel the contents of your stomach, may you run from my side. I shall hold your leash lightly, so as to give you that freedom, otherwise, I expect you to remain passive, unresponsive, and accepting to the touch of strangers. Do you understand?"

Mercy nodded her head and went back down on her knees. She followed James back to his desk, where he pulled another set of boots from under his desk as well as fresh socks. "You'll soon learn what I wear for show and what is serviceable for a ship."

She dressed her Captain, and took note of the worn boots and how they hugged his feet more comfortably than the polished black leather ones he'd worn around society. When she was done, she chewed on her lower lip and gazed up at him.

"You have a question?"

A quick nod of her head was her answer.

He smiled softly, touched her cheek and rubbed his thumb ocver her lower lip. "You have been acknowledged, you may speak."

Mercy cleared her throat. "This is new to me, this degradation. Tatewater was more into forcing my will in the bedroom, but he still treated me as an equal on other levels."

"You are not an equal."

She nodded her head. "I understand that."

"Then what is your question?"

"When you and I are separate and I am with another man, do I behave with him as I do you? On my knees? Address him as Sir? And with women -- do I cower to them? Treat them as equals?" She lowered her gaze and sighed. "I guess I had more than one question."

"I'm sure you will continue to have them. You are to behave with others in a similar way. You are not their equal. They are men and you are nothing more than a vessel in which they relieve their lust. You will address them as Sir, never Master and obviously never Captain. Do not use their given name. You are not worthy of knowing them, let alone using them. The women are as low as you are. They are pets, whores, sluts, bitches, and whatever else we wish to call them. When you pleasure them, it will be only when you are told to. You are not to seek pleasure from anyone because you desire it. I own all of you, every climax, every whispered word, every moan and gasp." He reached down and lifted her chin and stared into her eyes. "My pet, what you had with Tatewater was more freedom than you realize. What you have with me is ownership that spans beyond your body. I will own your soul and you will thank me for it."

Mercy felt a vast array of emotions welling up inside her. Fear. Anxiety. Apprehension. Defiance. Anger. Acceptance. Desire. Lust. Hunger. She was thrilled and scared. James read her face and tugged on her chin. She understood and rose to her knees. He pushed his tongue between her lips and began to twist and dance with the wet muscle of her mouth, until she was panting and whimpering against his lips. He reached down and cupped her pussy, toyed with her opening and made her groan with pleasure. When he pulled his fingers out, he cleaned them, then rose, tugged on her leash and led her across the floor.

Mercy hurried to follow behind him. The floor of the ship was not smooth, and the wood bit into her skin. She winced and faltered as James made his way toward the steps that would eventually take them to the deck. He stopped and looked down at her knees. "Martin will tend to you later, pain is a part of life, but Martin has a lotion that you'll use every day. Eventually you'll crawl across these floors and think nothing of it. You'll be fucked from behind and as the wood digs into your flesh, you'll embrace every splinter and every scratch. I see in you so much potential in you, pet. Even now as you stare up at me, the wood biting at your soft flesh, I sense you love the pain. Don't you?"

She nodded her head and looked at his crotch. James laughed. "The men are going to love you. I may have to prepare a calender just so I can be sure they all have their turns," he joked. Inside Mercy felt her stomach tightened as she tried not to imagine the life that was in store for her.

On deck she was paraded around, first she was led to Martin and formally introduced. She remained still as the Captain's brother ran his hand down her spine, across her shoulders and along the crack of her ass. "Has your pet had her ass fucked?" he asked James.

"From my understanding of her former owner, she has been used extensively," James answered.

Martin laughed as he squatted down and rubbed her pussy. "I highly doubt that," he said, before pulling his soaked fingers away. He gave them to Mercy to clean, who looked up at James to gain permission. He nodded his head and she obediently opened her mouth. When Martin was satisfied, he rose up, stepped back and thanked his brother for sharing Mercy's juices with him.

The inspections continued. As promised, only certain men were allowed to touch and feel Mercy. By the time she was placed with the other women, she felt both shame and arousal. Her Captain had not lied, she was nothing more than something to relieve a man's lust. The knowledge should have been appalling, yet she thought back to what Ruth had said about embracing what made her feel good. She felt wonderful being caressed and fondled by strangers. What she didn't like was them thinking she held no power.

One by one the other women were led around the ship and introduced to the men, much the same way as Mercy had been. While she watched them she thought of her place on board the ship. Did men not realize how weak they truly were? Was it not a woman's pussy they craved? Was it not a woman's breasts they ached for? Or her mouth they sought pleasure from? Did men not see the power in sex belonged to the woman? They sought them out for release, even if they used whips or a gentle touch to gain it -- it all still came from a woman. Inwardly she smiled, these men were no different than Tatewater. She would gain pleasure by allowing them to think she was there to please them. She wanted to laugh at them, but kept her thoughts hidden behind a submissive face and worried expression.

After the last woman had been taken around, the Captain ordered them all taken below, where they bathed, and were allowed to talk freely amongst one another. Left alone the women, spoke about their pasts and what had been promised to them after their contracts had expired. When they were done, the eldest woman, a blonde with the name of Jessica looked at Mercy and asked her, "What is your story? You have sat quietly and listened, but have not shared."

Mercy licked her lips. "I am not like you," she whispered. "I have no contract. I am owned by the Captain and am his woman. No promises have been made to me, no coin given. I was handed over from one Master to another."

"You're a slave?" another girl asked.

"I am," Mercy admitted.

"You say that with such pride in your voice," Jessica said, before standing up from the tub of now cold water and stepping free of it. She grabbed a towel and began to dry off.

"I am proud. A slave is only a victim if they choose to be. I benefit from the Captain's ownership. I want for nothing and I am given pleasure. I will not need to seek food, or shelter while under his care, or any man's care for that matter. Freedom," she laughed softly, "freedom means you toil as a woman. If you have no education, you end up as whores, spreading your legs for your next meal." She glanced at the women and lowered her head. "My apologies if I offended any of you."

Jessica laughed. "Offend us? We are whores. As are you, you just refuse to admit it. After you leave this ship, you'll be as much a whore as the rest of us."

The other ladies laughed and nodded their head in agreement. Mercy however kept her thoughts to herself, telling the ladies that they were wrong. She would never give up the power she had over men, the power to please and submit while letting them think they controlled her.