Mercy [Completed]

Chapter 9: A Noticeable Change

"I am, Father."

"Very good. Go to my room, bend over the bed and pull down your pants and underwear."

She did as he said and proudly displayed her marked bum. The bruises were starting to fade but still boasted the punishment she had endured.

"Beautiful," he sighed. "Stand up and turn around." He waited for her to do so. "Have you abstained from touching yourself?" he asked once she faced him. Father Mathias watched her eyes for signs of deceit.

"Yes, Father." She returned his gaze, proud that she had listened and proud that she wasn't lying because she had considered it.

"Get undressed and lay on your back on the bed."

She did, in a manner that showed her defeat. Brooklyn didn't hope for release and accepted the fact that she probably had much more suffering to endure.

"You have found the strength to pray, yet you still haven't told me why you had such difficulties in the first place. Tell me, but only if you're ready to speak of it."

Brooklyn closed her eyes. Her ears roared with the quiet panic that thoughts of her past provoked. Instead of giving into the panic she took a deep breath and waited for it to subside. "My mother is a fanatic," she started slowly. "Growing up, she would always make me pray. I had to pray all the time and especially when she believed I was being sinful. Nothing was ever right. Sometimes, even the way I would walk would be considered wrong and she'd force me to pray for hours on end, kneeling on the floor. She believed the discomfort would help rid me of my demons because demons don't like discomfort."

Father Mathias grabbed her hand. "I am so sorry, my child."

Now that she had started, Brooklyn couldn't stop. She wanted to tell him her story. "We went to church almost everyday. The priest would put me through all these cleansing rituals. My mother convinced him that I was infested with evil and that he had to do everything he could to purify me. Sometimes, the entire parish would be involved. We lived in a very small town and everyone there is just like my mother." Brooklyn opened her eyes and they glistened with unshed tears. "I truly started to believe that they were right."

"Oh, my child." Father Mathias sat on the bed next to her and pulled her into his arms, cradling her as if she was an infant. He rocked her back and forth until her breath stopped hitching.

Brooklyn pulled away enough to look up at him. "And I had believed it even after I ran away." She looked back down, running her finger across the material of his shirt. "I guess I was determined to prove them right. But you," she smiled through her tears, "a priest, one of them, told me otherwise. And I don't think anyone else could have made me believe that I am good. Well, or at least have the potential to be good."

The priest looked into her eyes. "You are more than good. I have already told you that you are perfection."

Brooklyn buried her face in his chest and pressed herself against him as much as she could. Everything was going to be all right. Her Priest was her salvation.

Father Mathias laid her down and got off the bed, then stepped back to admire her naked form. He gently touched her left cheek, moved down to trace her shoulder and collar bone, then over a breast, down her tummy... he lingered at her pelvis then continued down to her thigh, shin, and to her foot.

She sighed so deeply from his attentions, her body already singing from his touch. He continued on with his tantalizing torture until her hands were clammy. Her cheeks glowed, imitating the increasing heat between her legs.

"Close your eyes, my child. And whatever you do, do not, open them. If you do, the consequence will not be favorable for either of us. Is that understood?"