Mercy Me
By Karen Singer
Chapter 10 – Part 1 of 2
Betsy Wetsy? Ugh!
How embarrassing! Michael said
nothing about it though as he sorted through the clothes that were still dumped
out on the floor in front of the washer.
Suzi was being a total pain about what kind of clothes he could put into
the washer and when. Why divide
everything up into a hundred different loads?
He didn’t. He just threw
everything he owned into the washer at the same time and it all came out just
fine. But no! Suzi was absolutely horrified by the idea.
And before they could
wash anything that had been in the laundry hampers, they had to strip the beds
first and wash all the sheets, and then after that, all the towels from the
bathroom – sheets and towels separately!
Suzi did his sheets first, then he was a total pain about the way Betsy
did everything for Mistress. Betsy! Ugh!
The name was so embarrassing. And
Betsy Wetsy? Even more so. In fact, ten times more so. A hundred!
He loaded Mistress’s
clothes into the washer – pants and shirts that looked like men’s work
clothes. The only clothes she seemed to
wear. Certainly not like the clothes of
any woman he had ever met. But then,
Mistress wasn’t at all like any woman he had ever met. Not remotely!
He finished stuffing the clothes in the washer, not many at all. Why waste the water? Why not fill it up? But no!
He couldn’t do that or Mister Suzi standing over him would probably kill
him. He smiled at that. Suzi might be bigger than he was, as was
everybody else, but with those heavy things locked to his legs, Suzi would find
it hard to do anything to him. It was
hard to just move in those things.
“Now the detergent,” Suzi
said, watching carefully what Betsy was doing.
“Remember, not too much.”
A minute later, the
detergent had been added and the washer was closed.
“Good,” Suzi told
him. “Now get back to cleaning.”
Ugh! While the washer and dryer were running, Suzi
had been making him dust and clean the house.
Thoroughly! He had stood there
behind him with those monstrous metal binders on his legs, holding his knees
apart by over a foot, and constantly made comments about the way he wiped down
everything in the house. It had taken
him an hour just to wipe down and clean the few pieces of furniture in Mistress’s
bedroom to the point where Suzi was satisfied.
If Suzi wanted things done that thoroughly, why didn’t he do it
himself? Probably because of those
things still locked to his legs that he couldn’t get off.
Now while he was still
cleaning in the living room, Suzi was in the guest bedroom ironing – his
sheets! And Betsy knew that just as soon
as Suzi was done with that, he was going to have to iron Mistress’s
sheets. It was stupid!
But Betsy had seen
something that he was sure nobody else had noticed, maybe not even Suzi
himself. Suzi was stark naked, except
for the binders attached to his legs.
And whenever Betsy had to move very far with those binders holding his
knees apart, his naked cock swelled a little.
Every time! Not much. Just a little. He was sure that nobody else had noticed it,
but Betsy had.
---
§§§§§§§§§§ ---
“Mom. Is Aunt Mercy gay?”
Donna nearly had a fit at
that one. “What?”
“Is Aunt Mercy gay?”
Meghan asked again.
“Why on earth would you
ever think something like that?”
“Well, she isn’t
married,” she said. “She dresses more
like a man than a woman. And her hair is
more like a man’s too. And what she does
with men….”
Donna had to admit, her
daughter did have a point. “What brought
this on?”
“I don’t know. Just thinking,” Meghan replied as she folded
food containers, getting them ready for the dinner rush later.
“Why are you suddenly so
interested in Aunt Mercy?” Donna asked.
“I don’t know. I was just wondering, I guess.”
“Well don’t wonder!”
Donna told her.
“Does she hate being a
woman?” Meghan asked. “Is she like one
of those transgender type people or something?”
“Meghan!”
“Mom. I want to know.”
“Your aunt is…I don’t
know. It’s complicated. But transgendered, she’s definitely not!”
“So she’s not gay, and she’s
not transgendered.”
“Absolutely not…to both
of them. Trust me.”
“But what she does with
men…”
“And how would you know
what she does?”
“Mom. How many times have we seen her come in here
to meet them? With bows in their
hair? Standing around showing their
silly clothes and accessories off?
Mom. Really?”
Donna grunted a
frustrated sigh. “I should have never
let her do that.”
“Why?” Meghan asked. “I like it.
I think it’s funny.”
“It’s not funny!”
“It is to me. And I’ll bet it is to Aunt Mercy too. Lisa absolutely loves it.”
“Don’t encourage your
sister!” Donna told her. “She’s too
young. And so are you!”
“Mom, the school year is
all but over. I’m practically a senior.”
“That still doesn’t mean
you’re old enough.”
“When will I be old
enough?”
“Never!”
“Mooom!”
“I mean it, Meghan!”
“But Mom!”
“Fold boxes, Meghan. It’s Saturday. We’re going to need them.”
Meghan went back to
folding boxes while her mother wiped the counters down near her. “You like it too,” she suddenly said.
“What’s that?” Donna
asked.
“You like it too. What Aunt Mercy does with those men.”
“Meghan, how can you say
that?”
“Mom. I’ve heard you two talking. Many times.
Don’t kid me, you get almost as much of a kick out of it as she does. That’s why you let her.”
“Meghan, we’re not having
this discussion.”
“Then why won’t you let
me go see her? Why won’t you let me know
where she lives? I’ve never even been to
her house. Never!”
“And that’s a good
thing. Trust me!” Donna replied. “You don’t want to go there.”
“Yes I do.”
“No!”
“But Mom…”
“Meghan, I said no! Now fold those boxes before more customers
get here.”
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Mercy sat on her front
porch finishing up her latest sewing project.
She was keeping an eye on Fido who was nearly done with the hedges –
finally. He had done a really good
job. And she knew how much hard work
what he had done had to be. He deserved
a break. He deserved a treat. She chuckled.
A dog treat.
She had been going back
and forth from outside to inside, keeping an eye on all of them. She got a kick out of seeing Suzi, dressed in
only the leg spreader-binder, giving orders to Betsy and pushing him around
like a drill sergeant. Who knew? She had watched Betsy polishing some of her
creations in the living room. They gleamed
better than new. Especially since after
she had built them, she had never bothered to polish any of it.
She turned her full
attention on the sewing picture in her hands.
She pushed the needle through it and pulled the thread tight, continuing
the color in the picture. She carefully
pushed the needle up through the bottom of it where she needed it to be and
pulled it tight, before carefully placing the position of the needle back on
the front of the picture and pushing it through. The last stitch. She turned the picture over and did a few
hidden stitches on the back so the thread wouldn’t unravel or come out. She pulled on the thread and broke it. She turned the picture back over and removed
the ring that held the material taught.
She opened the picture fully to look at it. A man hanging by his balls. A lovely subject, captured lovingly by her
needle and thread. Done! Now all she needed was to put it in frame and
hang it somewhere. And another picture
for her to work on was going to be needed too.
She wondered what kind of thing she wanted to capture next.
She looked up from her
craft and watched as Fido stretched as high as he could on his ladder with the
chainsaw, finishing the last of the hedges out by the road. She had seen a few cars driving by…and
stopping as he worked. She was sure the
outfit she had put him in had a lot to do with that. Nobody in the cars had said anything. They had just stopped for a moment, then
moved on. Fido hadn’t said anything
through any of it. He had just done his
best to keep working.
The chainsaw
stopped. She watched as Fido climbed off
the ladder, then he stood back to inspect his work. Magnificent!
Fido, without his little quirks, may have been one of the better real
men she had ever had as a play-toy. She
set her sewing in the chair and went out to meet him. “I’m impressed!” she said as she headed
toward him.
Fido turned at her
voice. “Thank you, Mistress,” he
replied. Give the hedges a few
weeks. Maybe a month, and I know they’ll
look better.”
“Fido, they already look
better. Much! A hundred percent better.”
“I’m glad you approve,
Mistress.”
“Very much,” she told
him. “Now put your things away and meet
me in the house. You deserve a big treat
after that.”
Fido smiled. “Thank you, Mistress. I’ll be there as soon as I can.”
Mercy grabbed her sewing
things and went back into the house.
Betsy was still polishing the metal structures in the living room. She went over to him and felt the front of
his diaper. Did you wet anymore?” she
asked.
“Not yet, Mistress,”
Betsy admitted.
“You know what you get
every time you do,” she told him as she ran a hand lovingly down the side of
his face. “Do you need some more water
to help you along?”
Betsy suddenly yearned
for her touch against his cock again. He
had been hurting for days now just thinking about it since he had been unable
to do anything else for relief with that darn chastity device locked onto
him. Water to wet again. How humiliating. How demeaning. But her touch against his cock. “May I, Mistress?” he asked.
“Go!” she told him. “Whatever it takes. And remember, you come and tell me every time
you wet. Hear?”
Michael smiled. “Yes, Mistress.
Mercy headed down the
hallway. There were still a few clothes
piled up there. She found Suzi in the
guest bedroom with the ironing board, ironing his sheets. What the hell? “You’re ironing your sheets,” she stated.
“Of course.”
Mercy decided not to
comment on it. “How’s the teaching
going?” she asked.
“He’s slow! And not very careful. I had to stand over him and make him polish
ever inch of your bedroom furniture to make sure it got done right!”
Polish her
furniture. Oh well. That she’d have to inspect for herself. “I can’t wait to see it,” she told him.
She turned and headed out
of the room to head for her bedroom. As
she entered, she could already see how clean everything looked, including the
floor. Her bed was still completely
stripped though, but everything seemed to gleam. She heard someone behind her and saw Suzi
awkwardly trying to move into the room with her. She smiled…and then she noticed something
else. Suzi’s cock looked a bit bigger
than it had in the other room. Her smile
broadened.
“There was an inch of
dust on the bottom rail of your dresser alone,” Suzi complained. “And don’t even get me started on how filthy
the baseboards were.”
The baseboards? Who in their right mind ever thought about
cleaning the baseboards? She glanced
around carefully. “Amazing!” she
proclaimed.
“I take it you approve?”
Suzi asked.
“Very much,” she
replied. “Who did most of the work, you,
or Betsy?”
“You wanted me to teach
him. That’s what I’m doing.”
In other words,
Betsy. She was going to have to give
Betsy a special treat this afternoon too.
She had wanted to wait until later for that, but Betsy was going to be
here all weekend, plenty of time for more fun.
But still, Suzi had made sure that her bedroom had been cleaned like
never before. And not only that, she had
seen Betsy out cleaning the structures in her living room.
She walked over to Suzi
and grabbed him by the shoulders. She
spun him around, then made him stay there while she reached down around him and
grabbed his cock.
Suzi was suddenly in
heaven again. His cock went to full mast
faster than he could ever remember.
Heaven. Heaven. Heaven.
More. More. No!
No! Don’t pull away! More!!!
He was so frustrated when she suddenly moved away from him.
“You get more of that
every time I see good results on the cleaning,” she told him.
“He’ll be ironing your
sheets just as soon as I finish mine,” he told her.
“Then I look forward to
doing this with you very soon,” she said softly in his ear as her hands went
back to work on him…but only for a moment.
She left him to head back
toward the living room. She had Fido to
deal with now. As she went through the
living room, she saw that Betsy had a bottle of water on the floor next to him
as he started polishing yet another of her machines. She went over to him and wrapped her arms
around him. “Great job on my bedroom,”
she told him as her hand began messaging his cock and balls through his wet
diaper. “Great job. Keep it up,” she encouraged him. She kept rubbing him for a few moments
more. She stopped as soon as Fido came
in through the garage. “All done?” she
asked Fido.
“Yes Mistress,” Fido
replied.
“Close the garage door,
please,” she told him.
“I pressed the button on
my way through,” he told her.
She went over close to
him. “Good doggie,” she crooned happily
as she ran her hand lovingly down his face.
“You’ve been a very good doggie.”
She went around behind him and put her arms around him, moving them
slowly down from his chest to his groin.
Her hands pulled up his short skirt and went straight down inside his
panties. She had him hard in no
time. “Tell me good boy,” she said, “why
is my doggie wearing clothes? Isn’t my
pet supposed to be naked?” She pulled
her hands away and moved around in front of him. She smiled at how red his face was. She didn’t have to wait long to see him start
removing his clothes. “Everything!” she
told him. “Bow included. All of it.
Stick it in a pile over by the door.
No!” She turned to Betsy who was
watching them, while still polishing a metal pole. “Betsy.
Come get his clothes. You can
wash them too…along with all the clothes you were wearing when you
arrived. No use wasting the opportunity
to get them clean.”
Betsy wasn’t exactly
happy with the order, but he went over and grabbed Fido’s clothes, then he
grabbed all his own clothes and took them down toward the washer. When he got back to the living room, Fido was
down on all fours, looking up at Mistress.
She had him kneeling there with his tongue out of his mouth – panting
like a damn dog! Ugh! We’ll now he had confirmation of just what
kind of quirk Mistress intended on forcing on Fido…as if the name wasn’t
enough. Mistress was going to force him
to act like a dog…just like she was forcing him to wear and wet the damn
diapers. Betsy wasn’t sure which was
worse, being forced to act like a dog, or the diapers. The diapers, he decided.
“Come, Fido. Heel!” Mercy ordered as she turned and headed
toward her kitchen. A minute later she
had grabbed the red leash she had gotten for him and connected it. She pulled the leash tight for a moment, then
led him around the kitchen a few times.
She finally stopped. “Sit!” she
ordered.
Fido knew he shouldn’t be
enjoying the way she was treating him at all, but there was just something
about it that he couldn’t help. He was
loving it, and his cock below him was hard from it as well. He could feel the thing swinging around down
there constantly as she had led him around on the leash. He looked up at Mistress expectantly.
“I’m going to teach you a
new trick,” Mercy told him. “A new
doggie trick. Stick your tongue out and
pant happily again for me. Show me how
much you’re interested.”
Fido stuck his tongue out
and panted again like a dog. Oh God why
did he like this so much! Suzi was
right, he was sick. But he didn’t care.
“Bark, Fido!” Mistress
ordered. “Bark like a real dog.”
Fido did his best to bark
like a dog.
“Very good, Fido,” she
told him. “Now here’s the trick. Bark twice for me.”
Fido barked twice. “Very good, Fido. From now on, two barks means yes. Got that?
Tell me you understand.”
Two barks means yes? Easy enough.
Fido barked twice.
“Very good doggie. Now bark once.”
Fido barked once. “One bark means no. Are you going to give me any trouble?”
Fido barked once,
signifying no.
“Very good, Fido. I’m so glad.
“Two barks means yes, one bark means no.
Now bark three times.”
Fido was quickly picking
up on what was going on. He wondered
what three barks was going to mean. He
guessed that he would soon find out. He
barked three times.
“Very good,” Mercy told
him. “Three barks means you have to go
outside to go potty. Dogs don’t use the
bathroom I’m afraid, so from now on, you’re going to have to let me know when
you need to go out to do your business.
Is that clear?”
Ron’s cock suddenly felt
like it was going to explode. From now
on, go potty…to the bathroom outside – like a real dog. He barked twice indicating that he
understood.
“Oh, you’re such a smart
doggie,” Mercy praised him with a smile.
“Now we have just one more to learn.
“Bark five times for me.”
Five? What happened to four? He barked five times.
“The answer to that is
no,” Mercy told him.
Huh? No to what?
Fido was confused.
“Five barks is your way
of telling me you want permission to talk like a human. And right now the answer is a big fat
no! For the rest of the weekend, you’re
going to stay in dog mode. No more
talking. And unless I say otherwise,
you’re going to remain down on all fours like you belong. You wanted to be treated like a dog, well
guess what. Now you’re going to be stuck
with it for a while. No talking. No standing up. Nothing, unless I tell you. One bark means no. Two barks means yes. Three barks means you have to go
outside. And five barks mean that you
want permission to talk like a human – which right now, I can see no reason to
allow. Do you understand…Fido?
Fido’s head was suddenly
reeling. And the reality of it was, that
it was turning him on even more than he had been. He almost answered, yes in human speach. He almost barked only once. But he remembered just in time and barked
twice instead. Two barks for yes, was
suddenly a lot more difficult than just one.
Insidious! Damn the woman could
be good.
“Good doggie,” Mercy
replied with a smirk on her face. “Now
let’s go outside.” She pulled on his
leash and led him out the door. She led
him around the backyard on the leash for a few minutes, then she stopped
him. She knelt down over him. “You did an amazing job on the hedges today,”
she said softly into his ear. “Even the
way they look now is far better than they’ve ever looked before, and I know
they’re only look better with time…and more care. You were absolutely right with your idea to
trim them, and you did a wonderful job of it.
So for that, you can stand there and bark.”
Stand there and
bark? Now what? Fido barked.
Then he felt her reach her arms around him and grab his already swollen
cock.
“You’re not barking,” she
said. “Keep barking until I tell you to
stop.”
Keep barking? He barked again, and her hands started
messaging his already aching cock and balls.
It felt so good.
“Don’t stop, or I stop,”
she whispered.
Ron barked again, and
again, and again. He kept barking, and
she kept working on him. Working him
toward the release he so desperately needed.
He just knew as he got close to that point that she was going to stop,
but he didn’t care. It simply felt too
good. And then he was there. He was climaxing hugely. He was trying to bark like a dog, while
heaving big breaths in and out as his body orgasmed like it had never done
before. It seemed to go on and on. He couldn’t bark anymore. He was panting too hard from the exertion of
it, and she was still messaging him gently.
Still making him feel so good, even as his cock began shrinking. Damn, it was good. So very, very good!
“Did you like that?”
Mercy asked.
Fido barked.
“No? You didn’t like that?” Mercy replied, putting
a mock sound of hurt in her voice.
Fido realized his mistake
and quickly barked twice, telling her he did like it. Shit!
He was going to have to pay more attention in the future.
Mercy chuckled. “Oh, you did like it. I’m so glad.”
She leaned over and whispered in his ear. I have more of that planned for you
later. Something very special for you,
and only for you. But for much later,”
she told him. She pushed on his shoulders,
making him back up a little, then she pushed on his head, forcing it down
toward the ground. “Lick it up!” she
commanded.
Ron had been through this
once before, licking his own cum from the grass…much like a real dog he
supposed. There was no stopping her, no
denying anything she wanted. She was
controlling him again. Forcing him to
stay on all fours. Forcing him to only
bark like a dog. Forcing him to be a
dog. Controlling him like nobody had
ever forced their control on him before.
And he loved it. As her hand
pushed his head down into the grass, his tongue came out and he licked at his
own cum.
Controlled. The missing piece from his life.
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