The One Called Mercy Ch. 01

"Were you not sold to him?"

"You know I was. But my father had no right to sell me."

Ruth laughed again. "You are so young and full of ignorance. You are his property. He has papers to prove it. You belong to him and you are his to punish – but you are also his to pleasure." She stood up and prepared to leave the room. "Mercy, you like the pain and accepting that will save you from scarred flesh. There is nothing shameful about embracing the kiss of the whip, or the sting of a slap."

"And do you accept it out of pleasure or out of duty?"

Ruth shrugged her shoulders. "When my Matthews delivers the blows it is pleasure that brings forth my cum. When our Master delivers them – it is duty that allows me to accept my place in his world."

"I have no Matthews."

"No, you don't. So seek pleasure with the one that offers it. Push him to beat you, but take only what arouses you, don't force his hand to act harsher than you desire. Earlier you said that a willing and obedient servant holds power – perhaps you are right – if you are, then learn to wield it. Manipulate him for what you want and in the end you will find pleasure in this life."

Mercy opened her mouth to speak, but was cut short when she heard her name being bellowed through the house. She felt her pulse race and her lips parted as a soft pant slipped past them. Her gaze shot to Ruth, who was shaking her head in amusement. "See, even though he beats you, you still grow moist for his cock and his tongue. Go to our Master and refuse him until the pain becomes too much, then bend to his will and come hard – for the both of you." Ruth nodded her head, ending the conversation and turned away leaving Mercy to her own devices.

The young woman wanted nothing more than to deny everything that Ruth had said in regards to her desire to be slapped, whipped and beaten into submission. She had climaxed after every session with her Master and yet she still fought him. Was she as sick and perverse as Henry Tatewater? A shiver of fear rolled over through her. If she were as vile as he, what place was there for her in Heaven? Surely no one who craved such acts would stand at God's gates and gain entry.

"Mercy!"

Her name echoed down the hall as she hurried toward the threshold of the room in which she and Ruth had been talking. She reached the doorway, just as Henry stepped up to it. He grabbed her hair and pulled her against him. His mouth covered hers and his tongue slid hungrily along side her teeth and cheeks. "Kiss me back," he hissed before taking possession of her mouth again.

She turned away, pulling free from his touch and sneered back at his shocked expression. Out of the corner of her eye she caught sight of the palm of his hand rising up to deliver a hard slap. For a moment time seemed to stand still and Mercy felt her sex tighten and her nipples harden. She heard Ruth's words floating back and forth inside her head. And when Henry laid his hand on her cheek, her juices spilled easily from her pussy. She moaned softly and fell into him. He caught her, pushed her back and slapped her again. Once more Mercy took stock of her body and knew that Ruth spoke true. She craved the biting hand and the forceful way in which Henry handled her. She turned back, stared into his eyes and openly spit in his face. The thrill of the pending punishment made her whole body tremble.

Henry's eyes widened in shock. He wiped his face and grabbed a fistful of Mercy's hair. She cried out as he dragged her to the bed, and lifted her skirts. The Master of the house fucked his young slave and listened to her scream in agony until she was moaning and writhing in frantic delight. Henry came just as Mercy did and when she willingly slid to the floor to clean his cock he heard himself whisper, "My God, you are a perfect little slut."

Mercy's lessons continued to feed her passion. She learned how far to take her Master in regards to his anger. She learned what buttons to push and she came to understand what manners of misbehavior would result in true climaxes versus punishments that delivered only pain. Weeks turned into months and months into years. By the time she celebrated her twenty-first year, Mercy had become the only woman who gave her Master pleasure. Ruth did not mind, in fact she often thanked Mercy for embracing her role as subservient slut and Mercy enjoyed her status, relishing in the rewards she received from their Master.

One late evening she was called into his study and was told that she would be accompanying him and Matthews into the city. Mercy stared helplessly at her Master, confusion easily read upon her face. "What have I done wrong?" she asked, immediately falling to her knees and covering her face in her hands.

Henry chuckled, pulled her up and kissed her softly. "Nothing my slut. Word has reached me that my father has passed and with his passing comes certain duties that I must tend to. I will be gone for a very long time and wish for you to accompany me."

Mercy chewed nervously on her lower lip. "I've never been to the city. Father rarely took me into the village."

"And you will not see much of the city when we go. Your role is the same there as it is here. You are there only to serve me, you are not there to explore. Do you understand that?"

She nodded her head. "I don't wish adventure, just to please you," she said, before sliding her hands down to his crotch and releasing his member. Mercy moved to the floor and pleasured her Keeper.