Mercy Me
By Karen Singer
Chapter 8 – Part 2 of 2
“Okay
twerp,” Mercy said to him. “When we
leave here, this time, I’m going to follow you.”
Michael
was surprised. “You’re going to follow
me?”
“That’s
right.”
“Where
are we going?”
“Your
place.”
“My
place?”
“That’s
right. You’re going to show me where you
live.”
Michael
was nervous now, but for an entirely different reason. “I am?”
Mercy
shook her head. “I already have your
address, if I have to drive you there myself in my truck, then you can be very
certain that when I bring you back again, you’re going to find it nearly
impossible to sit down in your own car to drive back home!”
Michael’s
fear went crazy. He had been spanked by
her machine twice now, and the last time still hurt! A few minutes later, he waited until she
drove up behind him, then he headed home.
Mercy
eyed the apartments all around her.
Typical. Very typical. Cheap, but decent. She pulled into an empty space and got out of
her truck. The twerp was already
hurrying toward one of the lower apartments.
He was inside with the door open before she was halfway there. Obviously he was trying very hard to stay out
of sight. Not that it would do him much
good.
She entered his apartment and he closed the
door behind them. She looked
around. Nice, but…not that nice. The furniture in the living room looked used,
but functional. She noticed the heavy
curtains on the French doors in the back.
She walked over to them and pulled the curtains aside to look out. Not much.
Just a tiny cement patio and then grass before the next building behind
them.
She
walked into the kitchen and looked around.
Functional. That’s all she would
say about it. There was a laptop
computer open on his kitchen table. She
was briefly tempted to ask him to show her all the sites he most likely spent a
lot of time on, but she really wasn’t that interested. She looked into his refrigerator and several
of his cupboards. Not much, just some
basic stuff. Pretty much what she
expected from a young guy who lived alone.
The
bathroom was next on her tour. She
opened the medicine cabinet. The only
medicine she saw in it was some Tylenol.
“Do you take any medication for anything?” she asked him.
“Like
what?” he asked.
“So
you’re not under a doctor’s care for anything?”
“Uh…no. Why would I be?”
“Some
people are,” she said. There was nothing
else in the bathroom that interested her.
She headed for the room she was the most interested in. His bedroom.
The
full-size bed wasn’t made…not that she expected it to be. There was no headboard or footboard for it
either. Disappointing, but not
unexpected. There were clothes tossed in
a pile on the floor. She prodded them
with her foot to briefly look through them.
Nothing interesting. She noted
the long full length mirror hung on his closet door – interesting! She opened his closet and looked through his
clothes carefully. She was very
disappointed in what she found…or in this case, what she didn’t find. He had no “special” clothes at all that she
could see. Only the little girl shoes on
the floor there that she had made him buy a few days ago. Nothing else.
She closed the closet door and started going through his dresser. She opened every drawer. Nothing!
So why did he need a big mirror like that?
In his
dresser, she again opened the drawer that held his panties. It also held all his male underwear. She pulled all the male underwear out and
laid it on top of his dresser. She
looked straight at him. “Since you love
wearing panties so much now,” she said in a somewhat threatening tone of voice,
“do you really have any need for these anymore?”
Michael
was shocked. “Uh…”
“Do
you?” she said more firmly.
“Uh…no?”
he replied meekly.
“Then
get rid of them! Now!”
“Now?”
“That’s
what I said. Get them out of this
apartment!”
“Uh…what
should I do with them?”
“Don’t
you have a dumpster or someplace you can throw them in?”
“Uh…yeah.”
“Then
do it!” She picked up the pile of
underwear and pressed it all into his hands.
“Get rid of it. Now!”
Michael
gulped. “But the dumpster is all the
way…”
“I
don’t care where it is. Go!”
“Uh…do
I have to wear what I’ve got on?”
“Do
you want your ass blistered worse than before?”
Once
again the fear hit him hard. He hurried
toward his front door.
Mercy
smiled and followed after the little twerp.
Yeah, there was no doubt about it, even moving as fast as he was, he was
having no trouble at all in those heels.
She thought again about the full length mirror in the bedroom. She had no doubt what he had been looking at
in that mirror for the last few days.
She just couldn’t figure out why she couldn’t find any other
“interesting” clothing in his apartment.
It made no sense.
Michael
was petrified. The sound of his high
heels was way too loud, but if he slowed down, it would give people more of a
chance to see him. He hurried the two
blocks to the dumpsters, quickly threw all his male underwear in, then started
hurrying back, even faster than he had come.
He saw her waiting outside for him.
He hurried right past her and headed for his open front door.
“Stop!” Mercy ordered.
He
stopped and turned, even though he didn’t want to.
“Come
here!” Mercy ordered.
Reluctantly
and fearfully, Michael approached.
Mercy
pointed in the direction of the dumpsters.
“Walk back up along this sidewalk, all the way to the road. Then turn around and come back again. This time…walk! Don’t run.
And this time, when you walk you put one foot in front of the other,
like you’re walking on a tightrope. Got
that? One foot in front of the other.” She pointed again. “Go!”
Michael’s
knees were shaking? She was purposely
keeping him out in public…and this time, it was right there where he
lived.
“Go!”
she ordered again. “Walk!”
He
feared her too much. He turned and
started walking.
“Slower!”
she ordered. “One foot in front of the
other!”
Michael
slowed down a bit and tried to walk the way she wanted. It made walking in the heels much more
difficult…which he figured was why she wanted him to do it. Was anyone who lived around him
watching? What could he do if they
were? But with that bow in his hair and
the heels on his feet…what would they think?
He knew what they would think!
And it wasn’t a good thing.
“Now
turn around and come back!” Mercy called as he reached the end of the
sidewalk.
Michael
turned and walked back to her.
“One
foot in front of the other! Always!”
Mercy called to him.
Michael
was already doing that. It was awkward,
but he was trying. He got back to her finally.
Mercy
pointed back toward the end of the sidewalk.
“Do it again.”
Michael
couldn’t believe it. But he turned and
did it all over again. Five times she
made him walk back and forth…in full view of anyone who happened to drive by or
come out of their apartments.
Finally,
she let him back into his house. He was
glad to close the door behind him.
“From
now on, that’s the way I want to see you walking. Always!
One foot right in front of the other.
I suggest you practice and get used to it. Now what time are you supposed to be at my
house tomorrow?”
“Ten
thirty,” he mumbled fearfully.
“Good! I’ll see you then.” She turned and left. Yeah, for a little twerp, he was turning out
to be a lot of fun. There were just a
few things she hadn’t yet been able to figure out about him. But she had just barely started. It always took a while before she got the
full measure of someone.
And
tomorrow…all weekend…would be a very good chance for her to get to know not
only him, but Fido. Which reminded her
of something else. She really did need
to pick a better name for the little twerp.
She just had no idea what.
---
§§§§§§§§§§ ---
It was
nearly eight o’clock when Mercy pulled her truck into her driveway again. As always, she pushed the button to open her
garage door and walked in that way. She
got only halfway through her workshop before her phone rang. She dug it out of her pocket. Fido!
“Hello?”
“Mistress,”
Fido’s voice came back,
“Yes
Fido? Are you still coming
tomorrow? Do you have a problem of some
kind?”
“No
Mistress. Not a problem. And idea.”
“An
idea? What kind of idea.”
“For
your hedges. For trimming them.”
Now
Mercy was more interested. “What about
them?”
“I was
thinking of maybe not just trimming them back a little where they extend into
your yard, but maybe cutting them way back there and shaping them on that
side. They’d still be very overgrown on
your neighbor’s side of course, but once they’ve been shaped, and once they’ve
had a few weeks to grow back a little, they would look very nice from your
side.”
“You
want to do all that?”
“Yes
Mistress. I think it would look
good. A hedge trimmer wouldn’t work to
cut them back that far though, I’d have to use a chain saw instead. And I’m afraid that for a few weeks they’d
look rather bare, but the more you trim them properly, the more they should
fill out, and eventually, they would look really nice.”
“A
chain saw. As much as I hate to say it,
I don’t have one Fido.”
“I
have one,” he replied.
“You’ve
got a chain saw?”
“I
sometimes lose some big limbs from the trees in my yard. I got it to cut them up with.”
“I
see. Tell you what Fido. We’ll discuss it when you come tomorrow.”
“Yes
Mistress,” Fido said, his voice holding a hint of excitement.
“And
what time are you supposed to be here?”
“Nine
o’clock Mistress,” he replied.
“That’s
right. I’ll see you then Fido.”
She stuck
her phone back in her pocket. If Fido
wanted to do all that, then she’d consider it.
She wondered just how good he was at landscaping. It might be interesting to find out.
She
went into her house and grabbed her needlework and carried it out to her front
porch. She sat with it for a few
minutes, but her eyes kept going to the house across the street. The lights were on and she could occasionally
see shadows going back and forth across the windows. What the heck was he doing in there at this
time of night?
She set
her needlework down and crossed the street.
There was something she had been meaning to discuss with him
anyway.
---
§§§§§§§§§§ ---
Ben
Whitmore jumped at the sudden unexpected sound of his doorbell. Rag in hand, he hurried to open it. Who the heck would be calling on him? He opened the door and his stomach
lurched. The weird woman from across the
street. “Can I help you?”
“What
the heck are you doing?” Mercy asked, noticing the white rag in his hand.
“Cleaning.”
“Cleaning? At this time of night?”
“Why
not. If I do it every night, it takes me
no time at all before I’m finished.”
“Every
night? You clean your house every
night?”
“Sure. Don’t you?”
“Hell
no! Why didn’t you clean it earlier?”
“I
made a casserole for dinner tonight and it took me a while.”
“You
made a casserole. Was it any good?”
“It
was great! It’s one of my favorites.”
“You
clean every day, and you cook?” she asked.
“Don’t you?”
“Heaven
forbid! I’d kill myself first!”
“That’s
your problem then. I refuse to live in a
filthy house!”
“Right,”
she replied with a shake of her head. “I
just came over to let you know that I’m going to be having company all weekend,
but don’t let that stop you from coming over anytime to do your laundry. I expect my houseguests to be seen and ogled
by others at any time, and they need to get used to it.”
“Ogled? You mean like…last weekend.”
“Exactly. So don’t let it stop you. In fact, I want them to be seen by you when
you come. Okay?”
“I’m
not going to go there to do my laundry again!
Tomorrow I’m going to buy a new washer and dryer.”
“Don’t!”
“Why
not?”
“Because
I need my laundry done too.”
“That’s
your problem. I’ve got more than enough
of my own. Besides, I’ve got more to do
this week now that I’ve lived here for a week.
Two sets of sheets, four sets of towels…”
“Two
sets of sheets?”
“I
change my sheets as often as I can. I
don’t want to sleep in a dirty bed. It’s
bad enough that I’ve only got two sets of sheets to use so far.”
Mercy’s
head was spinning. This guy was
nuts! But still…he would also be a dream
catch for any woman she knew. He voice
became threatening. “You’re not going to
buy a washer and dryer. You’re going to
continue to bring your laundry to my house to do it.”
Ben was
shocked. “No! I’m not one of your weird…clients.”
“I
didn’t say you were.”
“But
last week you tied me up and made me walk on your treadmill. I’m not going to go through that again.”
Mercy
smiled. “That’s no problem,” she replied
slyly. She didn’t say it, but she had
many other things she could put him through instead. She just had to get him over to her house and
put him to work first. She reached out
and grabbed the front of his shirt and pulled him straight up against her
muscular body. “I expect you at my house
to do your laundry by noon tomorrow! If
you’re not there by then, I’m going to come straight over here, kick your door
down, and carry you back there. Then
I’ll torture you until you agree to do what I want. Is that clear?”
“You’ll
what?”
“Trust
me, I’ll do it!”
“I’ll
call the police!”
She
laughed. “Go ahead. You’re going to have a hard time doing it
though when you’re all trussed up like a turkey in the middle of my living
room.”
“You
wouldn’t!”
“Breaking
men is my favorite pastime!” She stared
menacingly at him for a moment. “Now what’ll
it be? You come over nicely tomorrow
with all your laundry you need to get done, or I come over here, grab you, hurt
you beyond belief for the rest of the weekend, and you don’t get your laundry
done at all. Which will it be?”
Ben
couldn’t believe this woman was serious.
“I…I…”
“You’ve
got till noon!” Mercy said. “Then I’ll
be here to get you.” She turned to
leave, but she didn’t get far before she stopped. “Oh,” she said as she turned back toward
him. “I guess you’ll be borrowing my
lawn mower this weekend too. I’ll plan
on it for you.”
“No! I’m going to buy my own!”
“Noon!” She turned and headed home, wondering what
the guy was going to do. She was pretty
sure nobody had ever spoken to him like that in his life. She also wondered if she really would go
across the street and kidnap him if he didn’t show up. On the one hand, she’d enjoy doing it very
much. On the other hand, it was illegal
as hell, and if he did call the cops afterwards, for once, she would be in big
trouble. She’d…think about it.
---
§§§§§§§§§§ ---
Across
the street, Ben Whitmore stood silently in his living room, his cleaning rag
still in his hand. She wouldn’t really
kick his door down and physically drag him over there, would she? But there was just something about her that
made him fear just that? Could he call
the police now and complain? But what
evidence did he have? None. And she’d probably just deny she had said any
of that. So what should he do?
