Mercy Me - Chapter 9 – Part 4 of 5

Mercy Me

By Karen Singer

Chapter 9 – Part 4 of 5

     Mercy went out through her garage and up to the front porch again, automatically checking on Fido and the little twerp in the process.  It didn’t look like Fido was going to finish with the hedges before lunch, but he wouldn’t lack for too much more to do later.  The little twerp, she could see now that those heavy steel binders she had put on his arms and legs were really starting to wear him out.  She smiled.  The things seemed so simple.  They allowed him to move, but with restrictions.  The true problem with them didn’t happen until over time.  They were heavy, and whoever was stuck in them gradually got worn out.  She pulled her cellphone out and ordered two large meat pizzas.

     She walked out to the lawn toward Fido.  “Fido!” she called over the noise of the chainsaw.  She waited until he had shut the saw off.  “Lunch break,” she told him.  “I just ordered pizza.  Come into the house.”  She left him there and headed for the little guy who was now watching her.  He had nearly finished weeding that garden.  “Lunch break Twerp,” she said as she walked up to him.  Like she had done earlier, she picked him up by his waist and carried him into her garage where she set him on his feet.  “Kitchen!” she ordered.

     Michael was tired.  His arms were dragged down to his chest by the weight of the steel locked onto them.  He did his best to “walk” through her garage and into her kitchen.  Fido was right behind him before he even got into the house. 

“The bathroom is down the hall,” Mercy told Fido.  Go wash up.  And Fido,” she said, stopping him before he could go much further.  “If you have to do anything else while you’re in there, which you probably do by now, then remember this, in this house, everyone sits down to pee.  And that includes you!  Don’t let me find any evidence that you didn’t.  Understand?”

     Ron looked at her for a moment as that sank in.  “Yes Mistress,” he agreed.

      “And Twerp, you can wash your hands as soon as he comes out.  The toilet in there is something you don’t have to worry about.”  As Fido headed for the bathroom, she inspected the front of his diaper.  “You’re wet,” she said, sounding pleased.  She ran her hand lovingly down the side of his face.  “Wait here,” she told him.

     Her eyes glanced at the guy from across the street.  His chair was turned so that his back was to them, but he was straining his head around trying to see.  She ignored him and headed for one of her toolboxes.  When she came back to the little twerp, she had latex gloves on her hands that were full of lubrication.  She went behind the little guy and reached around him, working her lubricated hands down inside his diaper.  “This is the kind of reward you get for wetting those things,” she whispered in his ear.  Her hands went to work on his cock, which grew rapidly in her hands.  It just didn’t grow anywhere near as large as Fido’s cock, or even the guy now strapped to her kitchen chair.  But then, that was why she had purposely chosen the smallest chastity device she had for the little twerp.

     Michael was in heaven.  Her hands felt so slippery and so good.  Pure heaven.  And no chastity device with little spikes in it to keep him from enjoying it.  The weight of the devices she had locked onto him was something he couldn’t ignore.  They were the stuff of his fantasies.  And now she was doing the most wonderful things to him.  Heaven.  Pure heaven.  And then her hands pulled out of his diaper and she was gone.  It was like having a bucket of cold water poured over him. 

      “Go wash up,” Mercy ordered.

     Washing up wasn’t what Michael wanted.  He wanted her hands back inside his diaper to finish what they had started.

     Mercy pushed the guy strapped to the chair up to the kitchen table. 

      “Let me go!” Ben insisted as he struggled again.

      “Now why would I ever do that?” Mercy asked.  “You haven’t had lunch yet.”

      “Just let me go!”

      “Stop yelling and stop asking,” Mercy told him.  “It’s not going to happen.”  She saw Fido come into the kitchen.  “Take a seat,” she told him.  “Relax for a while.  You did a lot of work out there this morning.”

     Ron chose a chair.  While he was sitting, his eyes stayed locked on the guy who was now strapped to the chair.  She had made him cut his grass with no pants on.  Now he was totally naked from the waist down.  Ron sat down, but said nothing.

     Ben looked over at Fido.  He saw the dog collar around his neck.  He peered harder at the tag hanging down from it.  “Fido?” he asked.

      “That’s his name,” Mercy told him.  “Fido.  As far as you’re concerned, he doesn’t have any other name.”

     Ben rolled his head angrily.  “You’re sick!” he said angrily.

      “And you’re stuck in my chair,” Mercy replied.  “So get over it and enjoy yourself for a while.”

      “Enjoy myself?”

     Mercy smiled wickedly.  “As best you can.”

     The slow footsteps heralded the arrival of the twerp into the kitchen.  “Sit,” Mercy told him as her head motioned toward one of the other seats. 

     Michael sat.  The devices allowed him to do a lot of things, but they still kept his upper arms and upper legs locked the same distance apart.  And they were heavy.

     Mercy headed for the refrigerator.  She had a few different types of soft drinks in there.  She asked Fido what he preferred.  The twerp too.  She asked the guy from across the street.

      “I don’t drink a lot of sodas,” he told her.  The anger still evident in his voice.

      “What do you drink?”

      “Iced tea.  A little bit of coffee.  Water.  Fruit drinks.  Healthy stuff.”

      “Good for you,” Mercy said with a smile.  “But I don’t have any of that…except water.”

      “That will be fine,” Ben told her, the edge still in his voice.  “What’s for lunch, so I can get this over with and get out of here?”

      “Pizza,” Mercy told him.  “It should be here soon.”

      “Pizza!” Ben exclaimed.

      “You have something against pizza?”

      “I can think of far better things to eat.”

      “I can too,” Mercy replied, “but today we’re having pizza.”

      “There’s no nutritional value in it at all!” Ben protested.

      “And what would you have eaten for lunch today instead?” Mercy asked as she brought the drinks to the table for each of them.

      “I have some left-over casserole from last night,” he told her.  “And it’s far better than pizza.”

      “I’m sure it must be,” Mercy replied, amused by him.  “Do you cook a lot of different things?  The last time I talked to you, you were making another casserole.”

      “I like them,” Ben replied.  “But of course, I cook other things.”

      “And do you ever cook for guests?  Little get-togethers?”

      “I’ve done that many times…when I was married,” Ben replied.

      “Hmm,” Mercy said as she sat down with her drink.  “And if you were going to cook a nice dinner for…oh, say…all of us here.  What would you make?”

     Ben wasn’t sure what to make of the question.  “I don’t know.  I hadn’t thought about it.”

      “Well think about it,” Mercy told him, because I’ll be asking you about it later.

     The doorbell ringing pulled her out of her seat.  A few minutes later, she was back with several large pizza boxes.  She grabbed some plates from a cabinet and set them out for everyone.  “Dig in,” she told them.  When she saw the trouble that the little twerp was having reaching the pizza, she grabbed a large slice for him and put it on his plate.

     Ben watched as the damn woman gave a slice of pizza to the short sap with the big metal contraptions stuck on his arms.  “And what’s your story?” he asked Michael.

      “Me?” Michael asked, surprised by the question.

      “What are you doing here?” Ben asked him.  “Did she kidnap you too?”

     Mercy chuckled at what he had asked, but remained quiet.

      “Uh…no,” Michael replied.  “I…uh…wanted her to do things like this to me.”

      “Sick,” Ben muttered.  He took another bite of his pizza, then he looked at the one with the dog collar.  “And I suppose you want her doing things like that to you too.”  He motioned with his head toward the other guy.

     Ron could feel his face turning red at the question.  “Um…believe it or not, I do.  But for me, it’s not exactly all the…uh…contraptions she seems to have.  I have…different needs that Mistress seems to be able to fulfill, so far, better than anyone I’ve ever met.”

     His answer surprised Ben.  “What?”

      “She uh…”  He thought for a moment about how to say it.  “One of the things I’ve recently begun to realize about myself, is that for most of my life, I’ve been searching for someone who can control me.  The more, the better.  I want someone to take me and force me to do their will.  Force me to behave the way they want me to.”  He looked at Mercy.  “And I’m happy to say, that so far, Mistress is by far the best I’ve ever come across.”  He looked back at Ben.  “And believe me, I’ve been through a number of dominatrixes in my life.

      “And you’d admit something like that?” Ben asked, totally surprised.

      “Why not.  No, I don’t talk about it anywhere else.  But here…”  He looked over at Mistress.  “Excuse me for saying it this way,” he told her.  He looked back at Ben.  “I think of this as a special place.  A safe place.  With past doms I could say things to them and talk about things with them that I’d never do with anyone else.  This is the same…”  He looked over at Mistress.  “I hope.”

      “It is,” Mercy confirmed.

      “So talking about things that you’d never talk about anywhere else, is possible here,” he told Ben.  “Only here can I be truthful and ask the questions that in any other place I could never dare to even admit I might possibly have.”

     Ben was surprised.  “A safe place?  Look at me.  I’m tied to this damn chair.  I’m naked from the waist down.  And you…  Well, the little shit over there, that doesn’t look very safe to me either.”

      “I know you don’t get it,” Ron told him.  “Maybe you never will.  But I have fantasies.  Dreams.  Wishes that bombard and fill my mind.  This is the only safe place where I can feel free to bring those fantasies out into the open, and hopefully, fulfill and experience some of them.”

     Mercy was surprised by how eloquently Fido was speaking…not to mention freely.  She kept quiet.  This was the time she wanted her new playthings to get to know each other better.

      “Sick fantasies!” Ben replied disgustedly.

      “To you perhaps,” Ron replied.  “But they’re my needs.  And in this place, I don’t have to feel any shame about them at all.  Don’t you have dreams like that?  Any at all?”

      “No!  Absolutely not!”

      “Somehow,” Ron said, “I doubt that.”

      “I don’t!” Ben insisted.

     Ron shook his head and turned towards Twerp.  “How are you managing with those things on your arms and legs.  They look…difficult.”

      “They are, trust me!” Michael told him.  “They’re heavy, and they feel like they’re getting heavier by the minute.”

      “I believe it,” Ron replied.

      “You can try them later if you want,” Mercy offered.

      “Uh…that’s up to you of course,” Ron told her.  “But I was hoping for…other things.”

      “I’m sure,” Mercy replied with a smile.

      “I can’t believe you’ve cut those hedges that much…with a chain saw,” Michael told Ron.  “Isn’t that thing heavy?”

     Ron nodded.  “It is.  And I guess like those things on your arms, it gets heavier the longer I have to use it.  With my job, I do things like this a lot, so I’m used to it.”

      “Your job?”

      “I work for the city,” Ron told him.  “A lot of what I do is tending the landscaping around the city.  How about you?”

      “Me?  I fix computers.  I’m not good at anything else.”

      “But are you good with the computers?”

     Michael smiled.  “Yeah.  I think so anyway.  No complaints yet.”

     Mercy watched the exchange with great interest.  Once again she was surprised by Fido.  There was a maturity in him that was unexpected.  He was like a natural leader in some ways.  A parent figure perhaps.  And yet, he had his odd quirks…like everyone else.  But his oddest quirk was that he seemed to enjoy being treated like a dog.  Very odd for someone with his seeming personality.

     Ben shoved the last bit of pizza into his mouth.  “I’m done.  Can I go now?”

     Mercy smiled.  “Go?  Why?  You just got here.”

      “I want to go home!”

      “Oh, we’ll be going back to your house pretty soon, but not quite yet.”

      “We?  Let me go!”

      “Nope.  Not yet.  Not till later.”

      “Let me go!”

     Mercy chuckled and got up from her seat.  She went to one of her toolboxes and hunted around through one of the drawers.  When she came back, she had a length of soft rope in her hands.  Fido and the Twerp could see her, but her neighbor’s back was to her.  She walked up behind him, grabbed his arms and pulled them behind his back.

      “Ow!” Ben shouted at the pain of what she had just done.  “Let me go!”  But before he knew it, she had tied his hands loosely behind his back.  And then he felt her running the rope up around the front of his neck, then back down again.  “No!” he shouted.  “Don’t!”

     Mercy chuckled as she took his bound hands and pulled them as far up his back as she could.  She pulled the rope going around his neck tight, then tied that to his bound wrists, holding them up that high.  Only then did she release the strap holding him to the chair.  “You can get up now,” she told him.

      “Let me go!” Ben screamed angrily.

      “Get up!” Mercy ordered.

     With is hands bound behind the back of the chair, Ben had to struggle to get himself angrily to his feet.  He kept twisting and turning, trying to free his bound hands, but he couldn’t.  And the more he struggled, the more the rope seemed to strangle him.  “Stop this!” he demanded.

     Mercy ignored him and turned to the others who were both watching with confused and worried expressions on their faces.  “Fido, Twerp, get up now.  We’ve got to make a little trip over to his house.”

     As soon as Twerp was out of his chair, Mercy went over and removed the devices that had been locked to his arms and legs.  Twerp’s sigh of relief was just as audible as she was sure his physical relief was.  “Have you wet again yet?” she asked him.

      “Not yet, Mistress,” he told her.

      “We’ll get you another bottle of water as soon as we get back,” she replied.  “Let’s go everyone,” she said as she grabbed the rope leading up to her neighbor’s neck.  She pushed him toward the door leading out to the garage.  “We’re all going on a little field trip over to Suzi’s house.”

     Ben was taken by surprise again.  “Suzi?  Who’s Suzi?”

      “You!  From now on, the only name I’m ever going to call you is Suzi.  And that’s spelled S-U-Z-I.  Suzi!  For Suzi Homemaker.  That’s you.”

     That’s not my name!” Ben insisted. “My name is…”

      “Suzi!” Mercy said sternly as she slapped her hand hard on top of his head, stopping him from saying his own name.  “As far as any of us are concerned, it’s the only name we’re going to call you.”

      “That’s not…”

     She slapped the top of his head again.

      “Ow!”

      “Now what’s your name?”

      “Benjamin!” he said defiantly.

     She slapped his head hard again.

      “Ow!  Stop that!”

      “What’s your name?”

      “Ben!” he said defiantly again.”

     This time, Mercy pulled harder on the rope binding his wrists up towards his head.  His wrists were pulled further up his back, and the rope dug deeper into his throat, strangling him more.  She watched him struggling to breathe, then she slapped the top of his head again.   “What’s your name!” she insisted.

      “No…” Ben replied.  The answer coming out somewhat gurgled.

     She slapped the top of his head hard again.  “What’s your name?”

      “You’re hurting me!  I can’t breathe!”

     She slapped him again.  “What’s your name?” she demanded.

      “Ow!” Ben screamed.

     She slapped his head again.  “What’s your name?”

      “No!” Ben replied.

     She slapped the top of his head again and again Ben screamed.  “What’s your name?”

      “Ow!” Ben cried again.  “Stop it.  Stop it.”

      “What’s your name.”

      “It’s not…”

     She slapped the top of his head hard again.

      “Don’t!  Stop!”

     What’s your name?” she demanded relentlessly, her hand ready to slap the top of his head again.

      “Suzi,” Ben said weakly.

      “Say it again.  What’s your name?”

      “Suzi,” Ben replied again.

      “What’s your name,” she asked a third time.

      “Suzi,” Ben replied one last time.

      “Remember that,” Mercy told him, or next time this will seem like nothing.  Now get going!”  She released her pull on the rope and his hands lowered against his back, relieving some of the strain against the front of his throat.  She shoved him through the door and out into her garage.

      “But I’m naked!” Ben argued as she pushed him toward the outside.

      “No you’re not.  You’re still wearing your shirt.”

      “But I’ve got nothing on below that.  Nothing!”

      “Tough!” Mercy told him.  “Keep moving.”

      “He had no choice but to move since her hand was holding the rope at his back and she kept pushing him.  He wondered at what kind of strange parade they made as they went down her driveway and out across the street, heading for his driveway.  Him, totally naked below the waist.  He wasn’t sure if his shirt covered anything that needed covering or not.  He was guessing not.  Then there was the little shit dressed in nothing but a girl’s frilly shirt, a diaper, and what looked like little girl shoes and socks on his feet.  And that didn’t even count the bow in his hair.  And then there was the other one.  The older one.  The one with the dog collar and the tag that said Fido on it.  His bow was huge compared to the little shit’s.  But he was wearing a short red skirt with a short red and white woman’s top that showed his stomach.  He was obviously wearing an oversized bra under that short top because his breasts stuck out too much.  And the sap was wearing high heels.  And he had been doing yard work dressed that way, including in the heels.  Yard work – with a chain saw…in high heels!  And he wanted to be treated like that?  The guy was sick.  Both of them were sick.  And his screwy neighbor, was the worst of them. 

     Ben actually hoped that one of his neighbors would see him being kidnapped and call the police, but before he knew it, she was marching him up his driveway and straight toward his front door.  He still wondered why she was taking everyone to his house.  He still wondered why she was doing all of it.  He supposed he’d soon find out.

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