Read No Safeword: Matte - the Honeymoon Online

Authors: Candace Blevins

Tags: #Literature & Fiction, #Romance, #Contemporary, #Sports

No Safeword: Matte - the Honeymoon (10 page)

Damn. She was really hoping he’d at least fuck
her
this time. It was so much easier to just accept the pain, rather than be forced
to inflict it upon herself. But, he was making a point, and she deserved this
and worse. She’d wanted someone who could
make
her submit, and she’d
found him.

“I love you,” she said, borrowing a page from his
book and reminding herself, more than telling him.

He smiled and caressed her hip with his non-greasy
hand. “I love you, too. So much it scares me sometimes. But you’re still going
to ride me.” He pinched her nipple, and then soothed it when she gasped in
pain. “I love you enough to correct you, to enforce our agreement, and to make
sure you
know
I own your ass.”

He used his left hand to help her move in place, and
reached up with his slick right hand and inserted one finger, quickly followed
by two.

“Oh
fuck
,” she complained. “Your fingers are
so much rougher than your cock. Sir,
please
!”

Her knee lifted an inch or two in reflex, but she
realized her body was trying to run away, so she planted both knees firmly into
the mattress on either side of his body, closed her eyes, shut her mouth, and
concentrated on breathing. He was right — he owned her ass, and this was
his way of reminding her, showing her.

He worked his fingers another thirty seconds or so
before gently pulling them out. A slick finger ran between her breasts and she
opened her eyes to watch the finger move down to her stomach, and then wipe the
coconut oil onto her abs, and up, onto her breasts.

He smiled. “You look good shiny.”

His look made her heart swell, and it didn’t matter
she’d just said it, because she was saying it for a different reason this time.

“I love you, Master.”

“And I love you. Here,” he said, reaching for his
cock with one hand and around her with the other to pull an ass cheek to the
side. “Let me help.”

Sam knew what he wanted. She maneuvered until her
asshole was over his cock, and let him help line her up as she settled onto it.

She tried to sit down on it, but her ass wasn’t
opening up to let him in. Normally, he’d just grab her hips and pull her down
onto him, but after she’d waited longer than she thought it should take him,
she opened her eyes and wordlessly implored him to help.

“I’ll help you get lined up, but you’ll have to make
it happen. I want you to fuck yourself on my cock. You should be open enough,
and goodness knows we’re both slick enough.” His voice went deeper, and there
was no mistaking the command. “Relax your ass and impale yourself on my cock,
Samantha.”

Her shoulders and chest were quickly transitioning
from uncomfortable to painful, and she had to be careful of how she balanced
her torso. He didn’t rush her as she experimented with leg position and body
angle, and she finally settled on a position that let her sit, push, and relax
all at once, and the head went in.

She gasped in pain and he groaned in pleasure.

“That’s it. Now sit the rest of the way down. I’ll
let you stay down a few minutes until you get used to me again, but I’d like
you to sit your sore little bottom all the way down on my cock, just as quickly
as you can manage.”

Nodding, she took a deep breath and then slowly
released it as she sat. His cock slid deeper, and deeper. Invading her. Opening
her.

The extra coconut oil helped, but she was so sore,
and so tired of having her ass filled.

When the backs of her bruised thighs at last rested
on his body, she relaxed her torso as much as possible in the restrictive
armbinder.

Ethan’s hand fell sideways on the bed, ran under the
pillows, and came out with two sets of clover clamps.

Sam closed her eyes as Ethan reached for her pussy
lips and clamped the right side. She’d known what would happen when she
realized one set had elastic between it, and she tried to keep from protesting
as he ran it behind her lower back before pulling her left pussy lip away from
her clit. The second clamp tightened down over the sensitive skin and pulled
her other lip back until her clit was exposed to the cool air.

“Your body is mine. Nothing is hidden unless I say it
can be.”

Sam nodded agreement, but kept her eyes closed as she
waited for the sharp pain on her nipples.

He didn’t make her wait long, and quickly put them on
and pulled the chain between them.

“Open your eyes. You don’t get to hide from me right
now.”

Sam opened her eyes and saw her caring, concerned,
Master. He released the chain and she breathed a little easier as the pull on
her nipples relaxed.

“You knew it would be rough today. Are you holding up
okay?”

Sam tilted her head, considering. She wasn’t sure if
he was giving her a way to end it, or merely asking if she needed help. Either
way, while she hurt in more places than she could count, and wasn’t looking
forward to being forced to start moving up and down on his cock…she didn’t want
the ability to end it, either.

“I’m tired, Sir, but not so tired I can’t go on. I
know you’re pushing me, and apparently physical endurance is part of it, today.
I want to please you, and if this is what you want, I’d be disappointed if I
weren’t able to give it to you.”

“Okay.” He smiled. “I love that you’re taking this
for me, even though I know how much I’ve already put you through. You have
permission to orgasm when I do.” He moved his hips a little and she squirmed as
his cock shifted inside her.

“Now,
move
, my beautiful wife. Fuck your ass
on my cock. I won’t hold back, and you don’t have permission to come until I do.”

Sam pushed up, adjusted her legs a little, and sank
back down on his cock. Her shoulders and chest hurt, her nipples were
screaming, and her exposed clit craved attention. The additional friction on
her asshole, combined with the burn in her legs and abs, was almost too much.
However, the anticipation of being allowed an orgasm had her moving faster and
faster as she watched his face for signs of pleasure. The chain beneath her
breasts bounced as she moved, tugging her nipples with each rise and fall, but
the pain only fueled her on.

When Ethan finally came, Sam collapsed forward on his
chest and let go as her body writhed and shuddered through her release. Ethan
grabbed her hips and held her on him as he emptied into her.

When at last they both stilled, Ethan gently lifted
her from his cock and stroked her arms over the armbinder.

“Please, Master, my chest and shoulders are killing
me. Can we
please
take the armbinder off?”

He sat her up, took both sets of clamps off, helped
her turn around and straddle him, and began to work at the laces.

“Your hands touch okay, but you have a long way to go
before your upper arms are close enough for the armbinder to properly fasten at
the top. I’ll wait until we get home to get an exact measurement and come up
with a schedule, but you know it’ll be a lot of work getting you used to this,
right?”

“Yes, Sir. I know.”

When the armbinder at last came off, he had her bend
over and spread her ass cheeks so he could examine her sore bottom. “It’s red
from all the activity, but I don’t see any signs of tearing,” he said as he
stuck two fingers in and moved them around so he could get a good look.

Sam gritted her teeth and held her breath. She knew
he needed to check, but the clinical ignominy of it made her want to dig a hole
and crawl into it.

He flicked the flashlight off and set it on the side
table.

“I’d like to rub some arnica on your backside.
Stretch out on the bed while I get it, please.”

He made quick work of rubbing it in, and Sam was
glad. He was gentle, and seemed to be trying to cause the least amount of pain
possible, but it was impossible to keep from hurting her.

When he finished he said, “Okay, you can stand up and
have a little free time. If you’re hungry, get something light, just check with
me before you eat it, to be sure it won’t interfere with what comes next.”

Sam asked permission to eat some ice cream, received
it, and devoured two bowls. Ethan came out of the bedroom and joined her as she
was halfway through the second bowl.

“You look like you’re recovering. How do you feel?”

“Tired and sore, Sir.”

He smiled. “Perfect. Exactly what I was going for.”

“When do you tell me what comes next, Sir?”

He shook his head. “I’m not. You’ll figure it out as
it happens.” His gaze shifted to the clock and returned to her. “I think I’ve
changed my mind about going straight into it, though. Wanna watch a little TV
and cuddle?”

“I’d love to, Sir.”

Chapter Nine

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Sam put whatever came next out of her mind as she
nestled into Ethan’s warmth and watched the next installment of a comedy
series. It was good to laugh together, to compare notes on the TV couple’s
lives versus real life, and to just sit and snuggle. He insisted she drink two
glasses of water, but other than that, there was minimal power exchange. When
the show was over, Ethan switched the TV off with the remote, kissed the top of
Sam’s head, and said, “Okay Samantha, that’s almost two hours of rest, and now
it’s time to get back to it. I have things already set up in the jailhouse
room. C’mon.”

He had her lie on her stomach in the bathroom corner,
and it didn’t take long for Sam to realize he was putting her into a hogtie.
He’d said he wanted her to figure it out as he did it, so she said, “This is
because I bowed my back up, Sir.”

“Close. Try again.”

“This is because I bowed my back up four times today.
Master.”

“And.”

“And made you come out of me once. Sir.”

He ran rope from her right ankle up and around her
right shoulder, and pulled until her back arched. The left side received the
same treatment, and then he bound right wrist to right ankle, and left wrist to
left ankle.

He squatted in front of her, his face solemn as he
showed her the blindfold and earplugs. “I’ll sleep in the adjoining room and
will be able to see you from the bed. Wake me if you get into true trouble,
otherwise you’ll need to be quiet enough to keep from disturbing my sleep.”

“Please don’t make me hold my head up all night, Sir.
Please include it in the bondage. I’m begging, Sir. Master. I can’t…I just
can’t, not if I have to hold my head up.”

He inserted the small earplugs in both ears, and then
put the large noise-cancelling ear-muffs on over them. Sam thought this meant
he wasn’t going to honor her request, but instead of positioning the blindfold,
he stood and retrieved more rope.

She felt him knotting it at her right and then left
ankle, and as he walked to her front he touched her chin. She couldn’t hear
him, but read his lips as he said, “Open.” She obeyed, and he inserted a bit
gag into her mouth, and ran both ropes through either side, so her head was
held up by her ankles.

When he finished she was nearly looking at the
ceiling, and she hoped he used another tie off point, because her mouth would
be hurting by morning — not as bad as her neck and shoulders would’ve if
she’d had to hold her head up all night, but still.

The blindfold went on next, and he positioned it around
her head and over the top of the earmuffs, plunging her into total darkness
and
silence.

He’d put her in much stricter hogties, but had never
left her all night. The longest she’d had to endure was three hours, and it’d
been hell. Of course, her back had been at a sharp arch, with her feet touching
the back of her head, and now her feet were a long way from her head. Still…all
fucking night?

Just when she gave up on him supporting her head
better, she felt him at her feet again, and breathed a sigh of relief as she
felt a wide strap at her forehead. When he finished, she could completely relax
her neck and shoulders, and let the rope support her.

Warm hands moved her knees apart, and she realized
once again he hadn’t bound her right limbs to her left. It wasn’t until she
felt him spreading her ass checks that she had an idea of why.

The instant the plug touched her asshole, she felt
the burn. There was no way to know if it was pepper oil, cinnamon oil, or
ginger oil, but she assumed ginger oil.
Hoped
for ginger oil.

A double-pat to her bottom let her know he was
finished, though she couldn’t tell if he stood and watched her a while, or went
straight to bed. He’d told her he could see her from the bed he’d be sleeping
in, and she assumed he didn’t fall right asleep, but she didn’t know if he was
watching her, watching TV, or using his tablet.

As the minutes passed, she stopped worrying about
Ethan’s attention and focused on her predicament. She knew the uncomfortable
position would be excruciating by morning, but she tried to stay relaxed. She
didn’t have control over much of anything right now, but she could control her
breathing and her anxiety, so she did. For a while.

The night lasted forever, and the pain evolved from
discomfort, to hurt, and finally to an aching agony.

The reality of being bound while he slept, with no
way to convince him to let her go, no way to escape, kept her running the gamut
from marginally aroused to frustratingly horny. She squirmed and wiggled in her
bondage, and tried to ignore the way the rough stone tile below her body rubbed
and scraped her skin. With her right side bound separate from her left, she had
more wiggle room than normal in a hogtie, but after what seemed like hours,
wiggling was too much work and she only moved to try to relieve tension and
pressure to a specific set of muscles.

When her body finally stilled, she reflected on what
had made her repeatedly bow up when she knew how much it bothered him. She
spent a good deal of time considering the matter, as she knew he’d ask her
about it tomorrow. It had been a long time since he’d hogtied her as a reminder
of how her back should be when he was using her from behind, but she’d learned
her lesson and trained her back muscles to stay arched. Had her subconscious
mind been testing him, to see if he would add these consequences onto an
already long day? Possibly. She didn’t really think so, but it was the only
thing she could come up with. There was truly no excuse for doing it so many
times. He likely would’ve let it go at one slip-up, or just put her in a thirty
minute hogtie. But
four
times? He pretty much had to do something,
especially when she bowed up so much he came out of her.

 She caught herself dozing a few times, but it
didn’t feel as if she slept more than a few minutes at a stretch. The burn in
her ass eventually quieted, which meant it had been ginger oil, but her jaw,
shoulders, neck, back, hips, thighs, and knees screamed at the stretch and
strain of the enforced position. Aware he was sleeping nearby, she tried to be
as quiet as possible, but couldn’t help the involuntary moans that occasionally
escaped.

He’d made a point of situating her over the floor
drain, and so when she needed to pee, she assumed he’d meant for her to go
without waking him. He didn’t intend to untie her before morning, and he’d
insisted she drink a lot to rehydrate.

The drain was slightly behind her and between her
legs, and the floor must’ve been shaped for drainage, because the pee flowed
away from her and down the pipes without soiling her. Still, she felt almost
like an animal, having to go while roped and trussed on the floor.

As the night progressed it felt as if the prickly
ropes tightened. She tried tensing and releasing her muscles one at a time,
working her way from toes to scalp to make sure she was relaxed as possible.
She tried tensing everything at once, and then relaxing. Nothing helped, and a
few things made it worse. Deep breaths pulled her shoulders and chest more, but
shallow breaths made everything hurt.

And so she passed the night in slow agony. Slow
punishment. And resolved to never bow her back up again.

When he finally came to her, he touched her hair
first and lightly ran his hand to her face, to keep from startling her too
much. He freed her head and mouth, then her hands from her ankles. He removed
the butt plug, and finally released her feet from the rope around her
shoulders. Strong but gentle hands held her ankles and lowered them slowly to
the floor.

The hard floor felt much better under her now that
she was lying flat, but she knew he’d want her up, so she rolled to her side.
Thankfully, strong arms helped her sit, as her muscles didn’t want to obey just
yet.

She was still without sight or hearing, but she
didn’t raise her hands to remove anything. He’d return the use of her senses
when he was ready.

After a few seconds, he lifted her again, until she
was standing.

He’d made her walk blindfolded before, but never
without the ability to hear his voice. Usually, she could hear him assuring her
she was safe, that he wouldn’t walk her into anything. Usually, she had vocal
instructions to go, stop, or turn.

However, she knew he was big on trust right now. So
when the hand at the small of her back urged her forward, she forced her stiff
muscles to walk.

Her bare feet felt the temperature difference when
she stepped from the stone tile of the bare-bones room to the wood floor of the
hallway. She tried to catalogue the turns and straightaways, and when a hand
touched her stomach to stop her, she thought they’d made it to the kitchen.
However, after a brief pause he urged her forward once again, and when she felt
cool air on her skin, realized he was taking her outside.

She smelled the ocean and felt the sea breeze, but
couldn’t hear it as she walked across cool concrete a dozen steps. His hand
touched her stomach again, she stopped, and he turned her around before gently
pushing her backwards into a chair.

Finally, the blindfold came off, then the earmuffs,
and the earplugs.

It was still dark outside, and he hadn’t turned on
any outside lights. The moon was headed towards the horizon, but still
relatively high in the sky, which told her it was probably very early morning.
The lights inside the pool were on, and the light from inside the house spilled
out, but she was turned away from it when he took the blindfold off.

He stood before her, arms crossed like a drill
sergeant, though his voice was kind.

“Tell me what you’ve learned.”

“I’ve been reminded I won’t like the consequences if
I bow my back up when you’re using me, Sir.”

“Were you purposefully pushing me to see what would
happen?”

She shook her head. “No, Sir. I know I’ve been
trained to keep it arched, but there was just so much going on.” She shrugged
her shoulders and winced. “I’m not making excuses, Master. It’s been a while
since I’ve received consequences for it, and I guess in the back of my mind I
hoped you’d be lenient about it, since you were putting me through so much.”

He raised his eyebrows. “Has this ever been the case?
That I let you ignore your previous training just because I’m teaching you
something new?”

“No Sir. I’m sorry, Master. Thank you for reminding
me how important it is to you. For helping me be pleasing to you in the future,
Sir.”

She looked down a second, and looked back up to add,
“Thanks for giving me a little rest last night, too, Sir. I really needed it.
It would’ve been so much harder to have to go straight into the hogtie.”

He stepped to her, leaned down, and kissed her
forehead. “You’re very welcome.” He dropped to a squat before her, so she was
looking down at him a little. “Now, tell me what happens this morning.”

“Consequences for fighting you, Sir.”

He reached to her ankle and unbuckled the cuff. “And
tell me how this is different from your punishment yesterday.”

“Punishment is about absolution, Sir. Consequences
are used as a training tool. You’ve forgiven me, and I’m supposed to have
forgiven myself. Now it’s time for you to…” She searched her head for a way to
word it, and turned her wrist so he could unbuckle the cuff as he reached for
it. “Your consequences are almost always a lesson, Master. You’re trying to
help me understand, help me not do it again. It’s likely going to hurt, but the
pain will be some sort of meaningful lesson. Sir.”

“You said you’re supposed to have forgiven yourself.
Does this mean you’re still feeling guilty?”

She nodded. “I feel terrible, Master. I’m so sorry I
hurt you. So sorry you’ll be on your guard for a while, and won’t trust me to
not strike out. I lost control, and there’s no excuse, Sir.”

“Feeling bad because you lost control is okay, but
you need to forgive yourself. You have to know you did wrong before you can
strive to not do it again, but I don’t want you to keep beating yourself up.”

“I’m working on it, Sir.” She looked down, unable to
meet his gaze as he removed her final cuff. She was totally nude now, without
even her bondage paraphernalia.

“Okay. We’ll talk about it again when your
consequences are complete. I want to be sure you’re awake and fully alert
before we begin, though, so I’d like you to swim. I want to see at least six
laps, but you can do as many as twelve if you feel you need more. The first six
need to be full speed, any additional laps can be at half speed or faster. I’ll
let you stand and stretch before you dive in. You’ll find a sports drink on the
table behind you. Drink it first, please.”

The cool water combined with the aerobics of swimming
fast did what he’d intended, and she felt fully awake and aware when she
climbed the steps of the pool.

“Use the restroom, towel dry your hair, and blow dry
it enough to keep it from dripping. I’ll be waiting for you in the workout
room. You can have as much water, juice, or sports drink as you want, but don’t
dawdle.”

 

* * * *

 

Sam came to an abrupt halt before she stepped into
the workout room. The enema bag hung from the chin-up bar, and rope and an
armbinder were draped across a nearby bench. Two large pitchers of water sat on
a small folding table.

He’d given her enemas before, and she wasn’t sure how
he was going to turn it into a consequence. The idea both titillated and
terrified her, and she took a deep breath and stepped into the room.

“Ah, there you are. Can you get the ginger oil lube
from the jailhouse room, please? I left it on the sink, I think.”

“I…Yes. Yes, Sir.”

Other books

Artifacts by Mary Anna Evans
Ghost Sword by Jonathan Moeller
A Venetian Affair by Andrea Di Robilant
In Bed with Beauty by Katherine Garbera
Blue Blooded by Shelly Bell
Undercover by Meredith Badger
Words That Start With B by Vikki VanSickle
Pick 'n' Mix by Jean Ure