Chapter 62: 62. Another Mercy That I Know Is Going To Be Futile For Her To Come**

Madison collapsed back against the pillows, her chest heaving, her body trembling from the sheer exhaustion of her failed attempt. The silence of the room felt heavy, pregnant with the impending doom of the punishment she had feared since the moment he demanded she strip.

"Hah... hah... hah... damn it..."

"Mike... please," she started, her voice trembling, her eyes searching his for a shred of the mercy she so desperately craved.

She tried to muster a sliver of her old, commanding persona, the one that managed directors and producers. "Let’s be rational about the situation!"

"The stress... the pressure of the camera... it wasn’t natural." Madison tried her best to make a sad expression. "Surely you can see that? If you just give me a few more minutes, or if we—"

"Rational!?" Mike interrupted, his laugh cutting her off like a whip.

He leaned over her, his massive frame blotting out the light, making her feel tiny and insignificant. "You want to talk about FUCKING logic now?!"

"After you spent the last five minutes acting like a desperate animal?"

"Logic says you failed, Madison."

"And... logic says you couldn’t even satisfy yourself without a deadline hanging over your head like a guillotine."

"But it wasn’t my fault!" she protested, her voice rising in pitch. "My body... it felt different, like—"

"Ohh bo-hoo! Your body is a liar," Mike growled, his patience evaporating. "Or maybe it’s just telling the truth that you’re a fucking fraud!"

"You pretend to be this goddess of Erosyne, but here you are, crying because you can’t even finish a simple job that all women can do." He shook his head, a sneer curling his lip. "All that talent, all that beauty, and you’re just a girl who can’t keep her wits when the lights are on."

"The longer you resist... it’s going to be a huge fucking time bomb that’ll explode all over you," Mike whispered. "Just give in to me and I’ll fucking make you my bitch..."

’Grrgghhh! Disgusting...!’ Madison thought. ’He and his fucking loud mouth that objectify women...!’

Before she could launch into another desperate defense, Mike’s hand flew forward. He didn’t slap her this time, but instead, he clamped his large, warm palm firmly over her mouth, muffling her protests into soft, incoherent whines.

His fingers pressed against her lips, silencing her indignance and forcing her to stare up at him with wide, panicked eyes.

"Shut the fuck up now," he commanded, his voice low and gravelly. "Less talking, more feeling."

With his other hand, he reached down between her thighs. Madison felt the sudden, shocking intrusion of his large, tanned hand.

"I can already bet thousands of Dollah that I can make you cum in under one minute, heck, ten seconds can count too as long as I’m being rough with you!"

Unlike her own smaller, hesitant fingers, Mike’s hand was massive, a weapon of pure sensation. He didn’t start gently, but he drove all five of his fingers deep into her soaking, overheated pussy in one singular, authoritative thrust.

"Mmph!" Madison’s muffled cry died in his palm as her eyes practically bulged. "NRRGGHHHH!"

The sensation was unlike anything she had ever experienced. Her own fingers had been a mere trickle of pleasure, but Mike was a flood.

The sheer girth of his hand stretched her walls to their absolute limit, filling her so completely that she felt her entire abdomen swell with the pressure. The friction of his knuckles against her clitoris combined with the overwhelming fullness inside her created a sensory overload that shattered her brain.

The feeling from the hotel came back again, and she remembers it well, especially how her body responds to it fast. ’I hate this! I hate this! I hate thisssss!!!’

It was violent, it was excessive, and it was intoxicating. For the first time since arriving at his apartment, the numbness in her core vanished, replaced by a searing, white-hot electrical storm.

Her hips bucked uncontrollably against his hand, her toes curling into the sheets as she struggled to breathe through the gag of his palm. The sensation was so intense, so beautifully primitive, that her mind finally surrendered, and the wall of her pride crumbled under the relentless assault of his fingers.

Mike didn’t loosen his grip on her mouth, nor did he soften the ruthless pace of his fingers. Even as she squirmed beneath him, he continued to pour poison into her ears, his voice a constant stream of derision.

"Still nothing, huh?!"

"Still just a pretty shell with no engine inside?" he mocked, his thumb grinding brutally against her clitoris while his fingers worked deep within her. "You’re FUCKING pathetic, Madison!"

"A top-tier actress who can’t even play the simplest role, which was a woman in heat..." Mike bites her ear. "You’re just a collection of expensive clothes and fake smiles, aren’t you?"

"You are full of pretense, but your body can no longer respond to the touch of you other than its true master!"

Madison’s eyes were rolling back in her head. The combination of his verbal insults and the staggering physical invasion was creating a chaotic delirium.

’He’s so close to making me cum, but I’m trying to prevent that from happening or he’s going to make it worse again...!’ She felt insulted, degraded, and intellectually diminished, yet her nervous system was screaming in a language of pure ecstasy.

Suddenly, Mike pulled his hand back just enough to let her breathe, though he kept his palm resting heavily against her chin to remind her who was in charge. He leaned in, his eyes glittering with a predatory opportunism.

’W-what...? He... stopped...?’

"Alright, princess. Since you’re so convinced your body is ’broken,’ let’s give it one final trial."

"A mercy rule," he purred, though his grin suggested there was nothing merciful about it. "I’ll give you three chances."

"Three rounds of solo play."

"If you can drive yourself to a climax three separate times using only your own hands... then you’re free."

"You can put your clothes on, walk out of here with your dignity intact, and we can forget this little performance happened."

Madison’s heart raced with freedom and dignity. She had the opportunity to return to her polished, controlled life, thanks to yet another act of mercy from him.

’He’s still giving me mercy...? W-what’s going on here...?’

"Really?" she wheezed, her voice cracked and desperate. "Three times? You promise?"

"On my honor," Mike lied smoothly, his eyes narrowing. "But there’s a catch..."

"If you fail even once... if you can’t hit that mark three times in a row... the punishment becomes permanent."

"You belong to me, body and soul, until I decide otherwise."

"No timer this time."

He didn’t wait for her to process the stakes. He sat back, crossing his arms, and gestured to her crotch with a curt nod.

"Start. And don’t hold back. If you’re too timid to finish, don’t bother blaming me."

Madison scrambled to obey, her mind racing with the possibility of salvation. She plunged her fingers back into her drenched slit, determined to prove him wrong.

But Mike had intended for the encounter to be a gauntlet, not a gift.

As soon as she began, she realized he wasn’t just watching, but he was judging the quality of her effort. Whenever she slowed down or hesitated due to the lingering soreness from his massive hand, he would bark a command or a critique, forcing her to pick up the pace.

She was working herself into a frenzy, her fingers moving with a manic, almost violent speed. The pleasure was hitting her in every conceivable direction, a multidimensional assault of heat, friction, and throbbing tension.

She felt the first wave approaching, a tidal wave of sensation that threatened to drown her. Her back arched so high only her heels and shoulders touched the bed, her breath coming in short, high-pitched staccato bursts.

’Almost... almost there... please, God, let this count!’ she screamed internally, her muscles knotting with the strain.

She was pushing herself past the point of comfort, driving her body into a state of hypersensitivity that made every movement feel like a lightning strike. The pleasure was becoming overwhelming, bordering on painful, a delicious torture that made her feel like she was shattering into a million shimmering pieces.

’I WANT TO CUM! PLEASE!’