Mercy (ManxBoy)

60: υи∂єя му ¢σитяσℓ

C'mon now let me satisfy your need,

To be down on your knees.

S Y K E S:

Some people say that sharing your feelings is healing. Well, I say that's a load of bollocks. I haven't even began speaking yet, and I feel physically sick. Whoever said that this is healthy is full of bullshit. Not just shit. Bullshit.

I've never felt so vulnerable in my life. "Master..." Zaire whispered, and looked up at me, putting his hand on my hand softly. "You don't have to do this."

"Zaire." I said softly, pushing him back onto the bed, holding myself above him. He bit his lip, his cheeks heating up. "I do have to."

A couple more moments passed, and Zaire struggled against me. He stood up in front of me, slowly undressing. Once he was naked, he turned around, lifting his hair. I took the hint, reaching for his collar that sat down neatly on the bedside table, awaiting his beautiful neck. I locked it into place and then he turned back around, dropping to his knees.

"Wh—" I began, but he bared his neck easily, putting his hands on his thighs and his eyes lowered.

"Master, you need this." He told me, and I nodded mutely, shocked for a moment. I didn't even know that I needed him to do that, but he knew. Zaire tends to have a much more in-depth thought process than I have.

"My father... he wasn't a nice man." I said, gulping a bit. "He spent most of his time degrading me. It wasn't really physical abuse with him. He was really mentally abusing though." I admitted. "I remember when I was younger he'd sit in front of me while I studied and he'd comment on everything—how I sat, what I wrote, how I took notes—it was all really intense." I bit my lip. "Typically I never spoke back to him. But if I did, he'd leave me in the bedroom for hours, no food, no drinks." I admitted.

"That's horrible!" Zaire gasped, and I shrugged.

"He isn't just critical with you, little one. He has always been that way. He thinks that there's only one kind of person a Bennett belongs to—and that's a person of equal wealth and social status." I said, and be bit his lip, his cheeks heated up beautifully. "I don't care what he wants, Zaire. I want you." I said and he chanced a glance up at me.

"You have me as long as you want me." He said softly. "C-can I rest my head on you?" He asked sweetly and I nodded. He shuffled forward, resting his cheek against my knee and he wrapped one of his slim hands around my lower leg. I smiled down at him, running my fingers through his hair.

"I remember one time, I had cut school and he found out." I shivered a bit, fighting back the rising anxiety. "He had held my head under the water in the bathtub. I blacked out for god only knows how long. My mother had found me and was panicking, but my father wouldn't let her call an ambulance."

"Master!" He gasped, nuzzling his face into my leg softly. I got the feeling that he was fighting back tears, but I couldn't really see his face given that I was staring straight in front of me, blinking, unseeing. I was trying to open up, but it was difficult, and I felt like I was going to smother.

"Sometimes he'd lock me in the closet in my room." I admitted. "He'd just leave me there for days. He forgot me for an entire week. It took Stan coming to find me before I got out." I shook my head, biting my lip. I felt so exposed as I was speaking. "For years, even after I had left home I couldn't do certain things. I couldn't go into my closet, I had to have someone get my clothes for me. I couldn't be late for anything. If I was going to be late I'd reschedule, or cancel entirely." I felt Zaire shake against my leg and sighed.

"I'm so sorry master." He whispered, and I shrugged.

"That's one reason I became fascinated with BDSM. It gave me the one thing I couldn't have when I was younger: control." I said, and he nodded, looking up at me with those pretty blue eyes.