by Ava Hunt
"You keep saying that but you never say why that is."
"There are many reasons... Jackson's a giant douche for one. I need more time with you for number two. And thirdly, I don't want you to spend years of your life with someone that you'll regret."
"So you're going to keep me here, against my will, and that's better?"
Morgan understood she had a point, but he was clueless on how to fix the situation now. Surely Mercy would go straight to the police. He'd never have a chance to show her how he could love her.
No, this had to be done just like it is and see how it plays out.
Chapter Five: Bedtime Stories
It had been two days since Mercy came down with a cold. Morgan's brushes with viral sicknesses meant a few vitamins and some bed rest and he was good as new. Mercy, on the other hand, seemed to have grabbed hold of the virus invading her body and made it breakfast. She looked worse after two days than he'd ever seen. However, her fever had subsided and he knew she was out of the woods and healing, even if her coughs and sneezes made him question it.
"Tell me a story, Morgan," she whispered before the siege of coughs began again.
He had placed the bowl of chicken broth and the tumbler of ice water beside her on the night stand when he turned to look at her oddly.
"A story?"
"When I'd get sick, my mother used to tell me a story to cheer me up." She explained.
"And Jackson would do this, too?" Somehow he couldn't see Jackson the selfish prick sitting next to her contracting her germs and making up a story out of thin air. Jackson hired people for that.
"No, he always stayed away when I was sick. There was always somewhere he needed to be,"she said quietly. "Please?"
"One condition, Mercy."
"Anything." She said, looking up at him for the first time since he brought in her food.
"You can't laugh at me for it."
"Why would I...no, I won't laugh at you. Swear."
"Okay then, Mercy, settle in. Get some soup in you and get those covers pulled tight."
He rested at the foot of her bed and made sure she took a few swallows of the steaming broth he made before beginning:
Tricky Tina was in a quandary. Her bookstore, Tricky Tales Told, was in dire need of a new storyteller. She asked her friends, she begged her family, she even advertised in local papers. Still, no new storytellers were found. Children came and went from the bookstore, dejected from the lack of fun and adventure that was once a part of every Saturday morning.
Then one afternoon, having coffee and bagels in the park by her store, Tricky Tina spied a fleeting object fluttering around a very large live oak. Hues of blue and tendrils of fuzz blurred her sight. Was it a butterfly? Was it some sort of strange new toy?
"No," she exclaimed, "I know what that is!"….and she did, only she knew that what she thought it was couldn't possibly be true.
"It's a fairy!"
She leapt up, leaving half a bagel behind, to chase after the curious fairy.
"Fairy," she cried out, "Fairy, stop and talk to me a while."
Yet the harder she chased the quicker the curious fairy flew. Finally, she realized that her lunch time break was indeed over, and it was time to go back to the land of books and stories.
Perhaps another day, another afternoon," she thought.
She made her way through the park, across the asphalt, down the two blocks to her cozy little shop. Keys were out, locks were re-opened, and once again she was reading to help people find their effortless vacation through the adventure of words.
After an hour of organizing, of reshelving and repositioning book after book, she sat down to reflect. It was in that time she saw it again. Just outside her field of vision, just in the corner of her eye. A wee bit of golden dust. A bit of fairy fluttering, if you will…
"Fairy, just tell me your name…"
"Hmmm, I suppose that wouldn't hurt to divulge. My name is Casey. You think me a curious fairy, so I guess you can call me Curious Casey"
Tricky Tina grinned. She knew she had found her new storyteller. And what a storyteller she would be….people would come far and wide to hear a fairy storyteller spin her tales of lore.
"Curious Casey, I have a business proposition for you…." And it was with that opening that the rest of the afternoon was spent trying to get the Fairy Casey to agree to spend two hours a week weaving an adventure to the bookstore's children.
Whatever Tina bribed or promised must have worked because come the next Saturday morning, bright and early and dressed in her colorful best, Casey and her elfish pointed shoes sat perched atop a pedestal prepared to partake of story hour. The children listened with rapt intent at her words….
"…. It was a land far far away…where common bugs ruled the world… a land with no mommies and no daddies, no kids and no pets…. A land where Sam lived. Sam was a ladybug but he was no "lady" bug. In fact Sam was quite insistent on telling every bug he met that he wasn't a "lady" bug. He told the beetle butlers, the firefly firemen, and the grasshopper gardeners. He told the cricket carpenters, the moth mailmen, and the aphid actors. Just when he thought there was no one left to tell, he heard "Hey sweet lady, you sure have pretty spots"…Angered and agitated, Sam spun around to see a praying mantis priest. "Father, I assure you. I may be a ladybug, but I am not a "lady" bug." Sam sighed. He wasn't even a girly color. He was a respectable manly tan and black instead of the more feminine red and black. He was beginning to think it would never end, that in a fit of despair he would have to fly right into fluorescent lighting…..Times were tough for a male ladybug. He was already seeing a therapist to deal with insect anger management issues. There was even that unfortunate incident he was still trying to get over when he was in Bug High School where he was teased about his spots being more oval than circular. Yes, times had always been tough for a male ladybug….. Then one day, among a leisurely fly among some buttercups he came across a katydid. "Hello Katy" he volunteered. But there was no response….so he said it again, louder… "HELLO KATY"…still, no answer. Hmmm, it was indeed a strange feeling. He flew directly in the path of the katydid and said "I said HELLO".
"Oh, I'm so sorry I didn't realize you were referring to myself…you see, my name is Stan"
It was as if Sam was looking at his inner self. Stan was a Katydid in a land where ALL Katydids were somewhat dimwitted bugs named Katy. It was a pairing that would be an instant friendship……
"And you see children, you should never ever judge someone before you have all the facts," Curious Casey completed.
The children roared their approval, book sales were through the roof that afternoon, and Curious Casey and Tricky Tina forged ahead into a new and hopefully long lasting arrangement. The end.
He looked up at her and saw her smile at him. Her eyes were red and her nose even redder, but she was the most beautiful thing he'd ever seen. And she didn't laugh at him for his story.
"Why that story?" she asked.
"Because I wanted you to see that not everyone is who they seem to be. Jackson isn't going to be your white knight and I am not the black death you may make me out to be," he said simply as he got up to let her sleep.
He turned only once to make sure she was still eating before closing the door behind him.
Chapter Six: First Submissions and Surprise Visits
As the days passed, Mercy's coughs had weakened and her vigor was returning. The sneezing had stopped and soon she was right as rain again. They had shared movies and popcorn, even a few laughs in those nights and days. There were a few nights when the hour grew late and the laughs grew hard that they fell into each other. They'd hug at night before retiring to their rooms. Once, there was a kiss at breakfast. It was all going well until the conversation turned to Jackson.
"I've not heard much from him. Very few texts. He says he misses me and loves me but then goes days before messaging me again."
"Well, it's Jackson. Jackson only thinks of himself, really." Morgan
couldn't help the icy tone his voice took.
"That's not true, you're just bitter. Jackson told me you've always resented him because he had someone and you didn't."
Oh yea, Jackson had several someones.
Morgan turned, eyes glaring, and nearly spat out the words, "You think I'm jealous of that douche bag?"
"I'm just saying you seem pretty hateful when the topic turns to him."
"Probably because you deserve to be treated better, Mercy. I mean the man plowed through a cheerleading squad while he dated you. You deserve to be special and you weren't to him."
"Yea, I'm so special I deserve to be kidnapped and held against my will, right?" She hurled the words at him, ignoring for a moment the sting of his cheerleading squad comment. That isn't true, is it?
"Mercy, you've got it pretty good here. I'm just trying to save you from yourself."
"Well it looks like kidnapping to me."
"If I wanted to hold you against your will, you'd be held to my standards and not your own."
"Well man up and hold me to your standards, then."
It was a brash thing to say, one Morgan knew she had no idea of what she was saying. His hand twitched wanting to spank her; a vein popped in his neck as it pulsed with the thoughts of nipple clamps and violet wands. The rising need in him signaled his bear who started to roar to life.
"Then I shall," he said as she picked her up and carried her to the basement ignoring her squirms.
Mercy looked around the dimly lit room that held a safe, a few bars on the ceiling and floor, as well as a strange chair in the corner.
"Okay Mercy, here are the ground rules. Do not address me as Morgan, you are to address me as Sir, because I'm the head of this household and deserve a miniscule amount of respect from you. One day you'll see I did this to save you, not to punish you." Morgan spoke softly and evenly as he paced in front of her.
"Alright," Mercy answered, much too softly for the amount of yelling she'd done earlier. She had no idea what to think and truth be known, a small part of her was very interested to see how this played out.
"Alright, what?"
A soft sigh escaped her as she added, "Alright, Sir."
"Just remember one thing throughout this Mercy, I do these things not to tear you down, but to build you up. Let's start, shall we?" he asked with a smile on his face. He went to a small safe in the wall of this room and brought out a small black leather satchel. A modicum of fear quivered through her. Morgan would never really hurt me, would he?
"Now, Mercy, I want you to sit in this chair, and remember, respect me at all times." He said to her, as he patted a gothic looking chair in a far corner.
She sat down, facing away from him as he was behind her already removing items from the satchel that she was unable to see. The sounds made her anxious and for the first time since her arrival at Morgan's home, she felt a small trickle of fear.
"I'm going to tie your hands back behind the chair now. I'll be gentle and promise you it won't hurt, but I don't need you to squirm around. I also don't need you to speak to me unless I ask you a direct question. Understood?" Again, his voice soft and like melted caramel.
For a brief moment she thought of Jackson.
Vanilla Jackson who believed that a wild night consisted of having sex in the shower or doing her from behind. While she loved him, or thought she did, she was already more excited by what Morgan had planned than she was after an entire evening with Jackson.
He tied her hands to each post of the specially made chair, as well as secured her ankles to the legs of it. He snaked a rope through the chair. The rope lie serpentine around each leg, each arm, and bound her abdomen. A softer, small rope went around each breast, wrapping it securely. A small sigh escaped her after he was done with that section. She had no concept of time, as the slow and methodical binding of her was intense and heady.
After the ropes were bound and her breasts were wrapped with the rope, he dug into his bag again, taking out a small electrical device she'd never seen.
"Now Mercy, right now you have a choice. You can stop whatever happens in the next few hours and we go on our passive existence living in this house together with you filled with hatred and preconceived notions. Or you can allow it, agree to it, perhaps even enjoy it. You can give in and see what it is that I'm wanting to give you. It is up to you completely now."
"Sir, I believe I'd like to continue." The meek, tiny voice barely was audible. Small goose bumps pricked her skin as a shiver of excitement ran through her body.
"Very well then, let's get a gag on you. You won't need to talk anymore." He said, smiling, as he reached again into the bag to take out a leather gag that had a curious metal ring in the front. While it bound her mouth to where she couldn't speak, it also fixed her mouth in a constant O position.
"If at any time you want things to end, you've only to tap your left foot three times or, if I've ungagged you by then, say the word 'kumquat' and I'll stop. Understood?"
She nodded as her eyes held a wicked look. She's enjoying this, he thought to himself.
Morgan came over to her after he fixed the gag on, and lightly grazed each nipple with a fingernail tip. While she knew that Jackson would frown on this behavior, she had never wanted someone more in her life than she did Morgan at that moment.
He bowed down in front of her and to each nipple affixed a weighted clip. It was a constant tug, put an exquisite arousal through her. When he was done with that, he went back to that curious electronic box and started rearranging wires. Each wire went to a different item. One small bullet-like vibrator he placed in her mouth long enough to wet it and then slid it effortlessly into her ass while the larger, longer vibrator went into her pussy, wet and waiting. Then, lastly, another clip attached to her clit.
He moved a chair over in front of her and took the control box.
"Now Mercy, I want you to answer my questions quickly. If you take too long to think about them, I'll be answering them for you."
She felt alternating vibrations throughout her body, pulsing from her quivering ass, to her dripping pussy, to her hard clit. It was the most erotic thing she'd ever felt. She started to flush and sigh a bit as the waves of pleasure started to come. It was when she began to moan that the controls flipped off.
"Mercy, is this pleasurable to you?" he asked, as she quickly nodded.
"Do you want more of this?" Again, she couldn't nod quick enough in hopes of more of the deliciousness she'd never experienced before. Morgan was awakening sensations she didn't even know she had.
"Then you're going to suck me, dearest, until I shoot down that pretty little throat of yours. Then I may let you cum, too."
He slid his shorts downward, flicking them off one foot into the corner of the room. His cock was large, long, and curved a bit to the side. He went over to her and slipped it inside the cock ring in her mouth gag, moving it in and out of her lips. She started to feel the slightest tingle in her ass, as he had flipped one of the switches on. Her eyes went wide as the sensations hit her, warming her to her very core.
The harder he pushed his massive member in and out of her mouth, the more intense the vibrations came, alternating again between pussy and ass. He kept this up, alternating between slow and gentle pushes and intense pounding. Finally, he took her face in his hands, and fucked it hard and fast, grunting with each thrust.
He grabbed a handful of her soft hair and spoke directly into her ear, saying "I'm going to take a few minutes and cum down that throat of yours, but you are not to cum, if you do you will never get this again and I will send you straight back to Jackson. Understood?"
She nodded as he moved back upright, pumping his giant cock in and out, nearly gagging her as it went into her throat. She gasped while her whole body tensed. Thin lines of tears were streaking her face. He had moved the control to high and set it solely on her clit sensor. She was feeling nothing but full vibration on her sensitive clit and was reeling from the overwhelming urge to cum
. She kept trying to focus on anything else, as he was pounding into her. Her gasps were loud and her thighs quivered with the intensive electric waves coursing through her body.
For a moment, Morgan nearly shifted with the intensity of the scene. His bear wanted her badly and it was all Morgan could do to keep him under control. Not tonight, he kept thinking. Not yet.
It was then she heard him grunt loud and felt strand after strand of cum shoot down her throat. It choked her with its thickness and volume, stringing out the sides of her mouth and down her flushed chest.
"Good girl," he whispered into her ear, as he then set all three controls to high. Her pussy was being ravaged while her ass was getting a slow steady hum of vibration. Her clit, on fire from the intensity, begged for its orgasm release.
