Mercy (ManxBoy)

38: fяєαк вιт¢н

 While suffocating your breath, it's torture mixed in with sex,

My sadomasochistic baby dressed in leather and lace.  

(A/n: I know I broke up the lyrics from the song but these fit a lot better with the story as opposed to the original. I merely switched some lyrics about to make it fit better. Fight me, bitch.) 

S Y K E S:

Zaire is gorgeous. He's the sweetest thing I've ever seen, and as I watched him excitedly explain to me his fascination with small town life. I didn't understand it even though he explained it to me, but I didn't mind it.

It just gave me a reason to listen to him talk. 

His voice is so smooth and soft, a delicate balance between feminine and masculine that worked just fine for him. It made shivers race up and down my spine and I ached to hear his voice begging me to let him cum. 

The thought made my blood run hot and my dick harden suddenly. I cursed and clutched my side, looking down at my dick. "Master!" Zaire cried, jumping up and coming to my side immediately. 

"I'm fine, just had a sharp pain." I said softly, and he nodded, looking skeptical. "I got hard randomly and it jerked me, I'm really fine." I said and he softened his features a bit. 

"Are you sure?" He whispered, and I nodded my head. 

"I'm positive." I said and he smiled a bit. 

"Good." He kissed my cheek and settled down on the bench beside me. 

The park in this small town was beautiful, and Zaire was having a ball sitting in the soft short grass. He looked so cute sitting down on his ass, his legs spread out in front of him with a smile on his face as he played with the grass. He'd taken off his shoes so he could feel the blades of the grass against his feet and between his toes. He claimed he couldn't do this at home, and I agreed. There was no way in hell I'd let him walk barefoot around the park. 

That was like asking for trouble. All I needed was for Zaire to step on something bad like a needle or piece of dirty glass and get sick.

Zaire continued talking about how romantic small towns were, and how when he was younger he always envied small town kids who had no worries. I felt like maybe his small town thing had more to do with his father being kind of... absent, and less about the small town itself. 

I could see where Zaire could put small town life from television shows above his own life, because he had a father who was an addict for years, and eventually died from it... he could relate small towns to good parents and happy children.

However, a lot of people from small towns really dislike it. Most of them want to leave as soon as possible, but for some reason Zaire yearned to enter it. 

"I love it here." He said for the fifty fifth time, and giggled, looking down at the grass. 

I didn't respond because I found it utterly adorable how cute he looked and found it unnecessary to interrupt him.  He looked so adorable as he sat there looking up at me with his toes digging into the grass. He shifted closer, resting his head on my shoulder with a shy smile. I couldn't help but smile to myself. 

This boy is dangerous. He's dangerous to me, to the deep slippery ice walls I built around my heart. He threatened to bring out a different, better side of myself and I wasn't entirely sure if I was ready for that. 

But it's a bit too late to be second guessing now isn't it? I can't just change my mind and dump him. He's my slave. He's completely dependent upon me now, and he doesn't even have a home anymore.