Under His Mercy

There is something about having her like this. Quivering flesh uncovered but for the silk around her wrists, over her eyes. She, whose natural state is one of defiant cheerfulness, energetic callousness, a being of movement and words. 

Now, she lies quiet and still, only the hitch to her nervous breath revealing a glimpse of the personality restrained. Literally. Michael did meticulous, slow work on the bindings tying her wrists behind her back, connected to the knot pulling her ankles together. She’s a present he wrapped for himself, a lone gift left under a plastic tree on the 24th of December, by a man who spends all his holidays alone. 

“Are you comfortable?” He checks in with her, one large hand sliding over the pebbled skin of her upper arm.

“Yes.” Lisa answers, doing a good mimicry of confidence if it weren’t for the quivering of her lips.

Hers is not a pleasant position to be in, Michael knows. Not with how little give he allowed between the knots on her wrists and on her ankles. 

If he were to remove the pillows from under her back, the pressure on her thighs would be painful, and even as is, he can see the way Lisa tenses against the bindings, how her taut abdomen flexes in an attempt to hold herself up and alleviate the weight on her arms and legs. 

But she’s a scrappy woman who led a dangerous life, who must have been single digits the last time anyone sincerely worried for her well-being. She withstands it with stubborn dignity. 

When she agreed to this, she knew Michael would be as through with it as he is with everything else. Knew she was in for many hours of hopefully pleasurable, but intense exposure. An exercise of trust neither of them could have pictured themselves indulging in, not until they met the other. 

It’s said that the submissive is the one with true power in any BDSM scene. Michael understands the logic of it but disagrees. A dark, pervasive part of him relishes in the knowledge that Lisa is utterly at his mercy. 

He's a big man, so he has always had a physical advantage over most people, including and especially her, tiny and slender as she is. In this moment, however, she holds truly no power over his actions. He could leave her here, on the bed, and not come back. 

He could touch her, in any way he liked, and she wouldn’t be able to do anything more than gasp and scream. The possibilities are endless, the choice up to him, and the power Lisa has over whatever comes next is exactly the one he chooses to give her. 

“If it gets to be too much, you know what to say,” Michael reassures because he knows how difficult it is for her to be here, to allow this, to admit to herself and to him that she desires it as much as he does. Relinquishing power can be so very difficult when one has never truly had it. 

“Okay.” The tiniest bit of fragility can be heard in her tone, and for that, Michael pushes away the blonde strands by her temple, his touch light and caring.

He spares a moment to take her in. For all that she’s a confrontational street-urchin, there’s undeniable grace to the lines of her collarbone and the expanse of flawless skin on her throat. Going up and down in a quasi-hypnotic rhythm, her breasts move as she breathes, her rosy, small nipples turgid despite not having been touched. 

The plane of her stomach leads down towards the tiny swell over her womb, then the mound of her pubis, and finally the vulnerable lips of her cunt. She’s cleanly shaved, a preference of hers, actually, though Michael sees the appeal now. It’s another way in which she’s fully exposed.

She’s absolutely beautiful.

His fingers follow the perusal of his eyes, touching softly enough that Lisa shivers and squirms, ticklish. Impatience is a key element to her personality, and Michael is impressed with her restraint so far. She has relaxed into her role as much as she can, though he’s aware if he doesn’t distract her soon, she will snap. 

But he knows her every curve and dip, her every hitch and tell. As much as he wants to map her at his own, leisure pace, he also craves unsettlement. If he starts predictably, follows the path they usually do, the cloth over her eyes will lose its meaning. She will know what to expect that way.

His hand stills on her hip then fall away. Her body is a feast for the eyes in its entirety, but he wouldn’t deny that there’s a part of her he has something close to an obsession with. 

Lisa startles in the most delicious way when he touches slightly cold fingers to the naked lips of her pussy. Pulling them apart, he reveals pink insides, the small nub of her clitoris, and the slit that leads into her body. There’s slick pooling there, warm and smooth, he gathers it with his index finger and rubs it on her clit. She shivers, her legs part further. 

His other hand goes to her throat, and he can feel the tendons move as Lisa pushes against her bindings. Some men would close their grip and press, take pleasure from controlling something so vital. 

Michael is satisfied with the promise of it, the mere thought that he could, and she would be unable to stop him. That’s enough to get his cock throbbing in its confines. He runs a thumb over her jaw, and predictably, Lisa’s mouth opens. 

She knows him well, all his quirks and flaws, his preferences and tendencies. Sliding his hand up, he allows her this victory, watching as she blindly follows his touch until she finds his long index and middle fingers waiting. 

Closing her lips around them, she runs an impossibly smooth tongue over the sensitive skin of the pads, sucking them into the cavern of her mouth.

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There’s a satisfying symmetry reached then, as Michael pushes two digits inside her velvety pussy and delights in the way she’s so very soft and warm in both extremities. Something she’s aware of is that he adores the clutch of her core every time he plunders it. 

She’s small and he’s big, so it makes for a combination that’s heady, if not for everyone. Putting himself inside of her is always a little difficult, her body snug around his large fingers, positively tight around his cock. He’s rock hard and aching now, anticipating the pleasure of substituting the hands on either end.

“Mi-Michael…” 

Lisa groans around his digits when he adds a third finger to her pussy. She squirms, hips moving back as if to get away, but not deterring him in the slightest as he pushes against the resistance of her internal muscles to sheath the fingers inside. 

A few more thrusts and she begins relaxing into it, resigning herself to the stretch as slick drips out of her to ease the passage. He pumps slowly inside her mouth as well, deep enough that he knows she has to concentrate to keep her gag reflex dormant. 

Michael loves being inside of her. In any way, shape or form, it’s his favorite thing in life. For all the abrasiveness she presents to the world, Lisa is nothing but warm, snug softness on the inside. Metaphorically and literally. 

When he recognizes the trembling on her thighs, a tell-tale signal she can neither fake nor avoid that she’s close to an orgasm, Michael stills his ministrations, regretfully pulling his fingers out of her. The air feels cold after the warmth of her body, and Lisa protests with a put-upon groan.

“I was almost there.” She pouts, pressing her legs together to bring herself relief. “And you knew it, of course.” She sighs. 

“Of course.” He can’t help but smile.

Michael does quick work of his clothing, no ceremony needed as he has no audience. When he’s finally naked, he can’t help but take a moment to just look at her, trussed up, exposed, vulnerable, and ready for him. 

He squeezes his cock to the sight, masturbating slowly enough that he makes no sound, knowing the waiting is driving her a little crazy by the way she begins to squirm and pull against her bindings again. As lightly as he can, Michael walks around the bed until he’s facing the V of her folded legs. He smirks.

“Wha-what?!” Lisa exclaims when he pulls her by the knees until his pelvis can slot against hers by the edge of the bed.

Michael gives her no time to adjust. Knowing he worked her open enough that the stretch will be discomfort, but not harmful, it takes him only a second to press his member against her entrance and push in, fast and hard. She cries out, mostly from surprise, a little from pain, as he’s merciless in the way he invades her body. 

He loves the noises she makes, not a shy girl in any way, as if everything going on within her skin must be let out in some form. Still, right now, Michael doesn’t fight the urge to put a big hand over her mouth, to smother her words and force her to breathe through her nose. 

If she really wants to, she can turn her head to the side and speak. But Lisa relaxed under his grip instead, allowing herself to be controlled, contained.

With a hand on her back, he pulls her body up and almost off the bed, moving her on his cock nearly as much as the contrary. One of the perks of having a small, light partner. 

She takes it well, spreading her thighs as much as she can, arching her back, clenching down hard against his invading member. Her body is Michael’s small, self-contained paradise, and the sight of her tied down and under his mercy only adds to the fire burning in him. He can’t last long, and he won’t. 

So, now is the time to give Lisa the orgasm he denied earlier. There are usually two ways to do it. Like most women, rhythmic stimulation of her clitoris is one. But for her, hard, deep fucking, is the other.

Michael leans over, caging her in against his chest, and plunders her cunt like a man possessed. She screams, long and raw, but she can’t get away, and if he can judge by the clenching of her core, wouldn’t want to. 

He can feel the quivering on her thighs as they frame his hips, and it only drives him to push deeper, harder, faster. A primal part of him wants her to feel this tomorrow, knows she will love him for it. He takes the hand off her face, then holds the nape of her neck and brings her in for a wet, messy kiss.

She bites his lower lip when she comes, hard. Her orgasm is taut stillness, as every muscle in her body contracts tightly before releasing. It’s too much for Michael, who has been holding off ever since the start, whose balls are hurting from the weight of the load they want to shoot. 

Gracelessly, he pushes Lisa on the bed, then kneels on it, all without allowing his cock to slip out. Holding onto her hips, he imposes his favored pace. Hard, slow and so deep he can feel himself hit her cervix. It doesn’t take long, then. 

With a loud, guttural groan, he cums hard enough that he knows if he were still standing, his knees would buckle. 

He does it deep inside as well, painting her womb white with his seed. He pushes in once, twice, feeling a little like his soul is being emptied out of his body through his balls. Lisa whimpers weakly with every last thrust.