Mercy

The bathwater was much too warm for my suddenly sensitive skin, but I didn’t dare verbalize my discomfort. Neither a desperate whimper nor a nearly inaudible mewl of malcontent was permitted to escape my throat despite how effectively the liquid scalded my flesh. My only consolation was that Elliot had carefully positioned my fragile form to keep my head from lolling weakly about, simultaneously saving the marred skin of my neck from further, unnecessary blistering. I could already feel the collar’s handiwork radiating in thick, searing waves, boldly daring one pathetic little sound to flee the confines of my tightly clenched teeth. I was in outright agony, but not once did I mindlessly babble for some sort of relief.

Through eyes slit against the dizzying fluorescent glow of the heavily illuminated bathroom, I could make out only one thing with absolute certainty: Elliot’s smirk. It was a hideous, triumphant grin, and it ruthlessly reiterated his twisted sense of accomplishment in an area he’d previously failed. The first time I had fallen under his seemingly charming spell, his knowledge of the human psyche and how to abuse it was primitive and poorly conceived. He couldn’t successfully turn me into his mindless, drooling slave due to a certain freedom he’d unintentionally given me in allowing my prostitution to persist. In fact, that very act had been his premier undoing, and he sure as hell wasn’t about to let it happen again. The second time around, Elliot had to weasel every single bit of control directly into my mind with no hesitation or remorse.

I’m ashamed to admit it worked fantastically. All it took was simply locking me inside that closet, forcing me to live in constant fear of the training collar’s electric shock, and stripping me of everything necessary to feel human to brainwash me so completely that not even a tub of damn near boiling water could compel my vocal chords to wail out in anguish. I’d passed his final test, so of course Elliot couldn’t help but beam at his own sadistic coup d’état of my mind and soul.

“Aw, Mikey…that neck of yours is fucking raw. Would you like some ointment for that once we’ve finished your bath?” Elliot murmured, proceeding to scrub at my body with a brush primarily used to clean rough surfaces and certainly not human tissue. I could do nothing more than grit my teeth in distress as I cautiously nodded my head in response to my captor’s inquiry.

“Ok, baby, I can do that for you. How about food? You hungry?” he continued, scrub-brush clawing hungrily away at the grime that managed to accumulate all over my body during the mysterious amount of time I was held captive.

A nod, a pained grimace.

Where was Billie Joe to tell me not to trust him, to tell me I must have lost my mind to be accepting any of his innocent suggestions?

“I can take care of that for you, too. You’ve been such a good boy; you deserve something better than a stale sandwich. …I just have one concern,” Elliot sighed, abandoning the brush to, thankfully, use a softer cloth to wipe the vomit from my face.

I cracked open an eye, hoping to make it clear that he had my full attention for whatever seemed to be bothering him.

“That closet is a mess. You’ll need to clean it, and so help me if I find any fucking stains left after you’ve finished…” he growled, voice dangerously lacking the sugary façade it previously adopted.

Wide eyes, gaping mouth. I couldn’t go anywhere near that closet again…which was why I was absolutely appalled when I felt my head nodding vigorously in response to the command. I suppose my subconscious was just as terrified of punishment as my conscious mind.

“Good, good. The last thing we need is people asking questions about those stains, right?”

Weaker nod, eyes squinting once more in the light.

“Tilt your head back, Mikey.”

In spite of my utter lack of strength, I found my neck craning back ever so carefully at Elliot’s insistence. The second I did so, I felt water being poured into my hair and left to maliciously trickle down my blistered neck. As if the sudden disturbance wasn’t horrifying enough, shampoo was rubbed violently into my hair, and it felt as if he was attempting to viciously rip every strand from my scalp. The soapy liquid oozed lazily onto my neck much as the water had, leaving me to bite my lip in an effort to keep the scream dwelling in my throat from piercing through the foreboding silence. I endured the maddening sting, once again, in noiseless obedience.

“You’re doing great, baby. Just gotta rinse out the shampoo and dry you off, then we’ll be good to go,” Elliot explained, spilling more of the boiling liquid into my hair until the last of the suds dribbled down my neck.

I just wanted it to be over. I wanted to crawl into that bed and burrow so far beneath the sheets that not even Elliot could drag me out. My body ached in more ways than I was comfortable with, my mind was exhausted beyond repair, and my stomach growled with the hunger pangs I’d suffered through for the better half of the time spent locked away. Unfortunately, the latter threatened to keep me awake until its need for sustenance was satisfied.

“Stand up. C’mon, stop being a weak little shit and stand up,” Elliot sneered, grabbing me by the arms and thrusting me into a standing position before I was even prepared to move. My legs wobbled uncertainly as if they’d forgotten how to function, and my eyes bulged the moment it became apparent that, if he wasn’t going to catch me, I would be sent crashing back down into the murky depths below. Maybe, if I was lucky, I’d crack my skull on the edge of the tub as I fell, bringing a swift end to all my suffering.

Obviously, I had no such fortune. Elliot steadied my body at once and pushed so that all my weight rested upon the bathroom wall. Handing me a towel, his hands guided me out of the tub and onto the floor. Immediately, I began to shiver as my body was blanketed with the cool air around us, and the towel I had wrapped around me did little to shelter from the chill. When I made no efforts in drying myself, my captor swiftly ghosted the thin fabric about my body until my skin no longer glistened with fluids.

I was appalled by how dependent I had become on such a horrid excuse of a human being, but there was nothing I could do to save myself. I was much too weak.

He carried me, naked and handcuffed, into the bedroom where he gingerly set my body down to rest. For a while, he did nothing but kneel before me and casually run his fingers through my damp hair, sporadically showering my face in tender kisses. I found his compassion to be quite unnerving, yet it wasn’t long before my lips were eager to meet his in a sickening display of my gratitude for his uncharacteristic hospitality. My innocent kiss grotesquely morphed into an all-out oral exploration, and I couldn’t grasp why I was unable to pull away, to resist. I hated this man with every fiber of my being, but somehow I had been the one to initiate such blatantly sexual advances…what the fuck was wrong with me?

Elliot pulled away and wiped his mouth, that smirk plastered yet again on his smug visage, before announcing, “I’m gonna go make you something to eat, Mikey. I shouldn’t be long.” A kiss was planted on my forehead before he disappeared from the room.

With the door shut and locked behind him, the abandonment that rippled through me as a result was instantaneous and unforgiving. I’d finally acquired human contact, though unorthodox and cruel, after being left alone for so long, and I longed for Elliot’s prompt return. I needed him so badly that the desire nearly suffocated me.

Well fuck me runnin’, Fairy. You smell nice.

And just where the hell have you been, asshole? You like abandoning me too?

The old bastard didn’t speak for several moments, and I began to worry I’d scared him off. For an instant, I forgot he was nothing more than a bodiless voice residing in the depths of my mind.

No, I just can’t stand being aroundhim.

Neither can I!

You got a funny way o’ showin’ it. I’m startin’ to think youlike it when he rapes you.

No! I swear to God, every time he’s with me I…I feel like I want to die.

You coulda fooled me…Slut.

The tears were still streaming down my face when Elliot returned, fully equipped with the nourishment he’d promised me. Something told me to be wary of his every move, but at that moment, I was far too famished and distressed to dwell on what sinister deeds he possibly had in store for me.