No Safeword: Matte - Happily Ever After (Safewords) (25 page)

BOOK: No Safeword: Matte - Happily Ever After (Safewords)
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He walked her to the sling and positioned her face down with her arms bound comfortably so she couldn’t move them. She tested the position and discovered it supported her shoulder well, with no pain despite her fatigue.

Her legs, however, he bent and spread out to the side, so she wouldn’t be able to protect her groin even a little.

He let her watch him put the condom on and rub cinnamon coconut oil onto it.

In a condom, he’d last forever.

She wasn’t surprised when he pressed into her swollen, bruised, tender ass.

His groan as he entered broadcast pure bliss, which Sam countered with her squeals and yelps of pain.

He took his time sinking into her, and when he’d finally buried himself to the hilt he said, “I thought your ass was hot when I flogged it, but this is…” He sighed and groaned in pleasure again. “This is incredible.”

Thankfully, he didn’t pound her, but slid in and out with long, smooth, strokes. After what seemed forever, when Sam thought she might pass out from exhaustion in spite of the pain, he stepped in front of her, removed the condom, and ordered her to open her mouth.

“I don’t want to lose control in your ass right now, so you get to finish me off in your mouth.”

She wanted to thank him, but only opened her mouth to accept him.

He wasn’t gentle, but she hadn’t expected him to be. When he finally came he staggered back as he told her to swallow.

She gagged as it went down, and looked up to see him watching. Tears flowed from her eyes and there was a pool of spit on the floor. She knew he enjoyed seeing her like this, but she felt
so
self-conscious.

He took a few minutes to clean himself and put his shorts back on, and warned her once again the scene wasn’t over as he removed her from the sling.

He stood her under the winch and tied it off to her upper body harness. He connected a separate hemp rope to the winch, looped it under her crotch, and then back up to the winch. He tightened it until she had to go on tiptoes to keep her crotch from pressing into the scratchy rope.

He stood and watched her a few seconds, and Sam learned she could pull herself away from the rope when she was high on her toes. She just didn’t know how long she could stay on them.

She held her head up to give him room to fasten her bondage collar, and wasn’t surprised when he threaded a rope through the front and connected it to her wrist cuffs so she couldn’t reach her groin.

He stepped away, and just as she was about to panic, she saw him walking towards the cabinet with her ballet bondage shoes.

He bent before her, slid her feet into both shoes, and then fastened the locks at her ankles.

“I’m going to bed. You won’t be in this position all night, but you
will
be in bondage until sometime tomorrow.”

The shoes hurt her feet and toes, but she was grateful for them as they held her up and away from the horrid rope under her crotch. She tried to bend her legs and gain relief for her feet once, but quickly stood again when she realized her body’s weight went to the crotch rope long before the connections to her harness supported her.

 

* * * *

 

Ethan set his alarm for forty minutes, slid under the covers, and fell asleep.

Master James had given excellent advice. Ethan had needed to connect with her while hurting her, and it’d all fallen into place.

She’d known from experience how bad consequences would be for deliberately going against his orders. He had to follow through, and luckily he was having no problems doing so, once they’d connected again.

Sam needed this from him, and he needed to give it to her.

And his last orgasm had exhausted him.

When his alarm woke him, he sat up and focused on Sam. The shoes had kept her weight away from the rope, and the crotch rope had given her incentive to keep her body harness from supporting her weight.

Her feet and calves would be hurting by now though, not to mention the residual pain left over from riding the pony.

He untied the crotch rope before kneeling to unlock and remove the torturous shoes.

The upper body harness stayed on, as did the rope running from wrist cuffs to bondage collar, but he untied the rope leading to the winch, walked her to the bathroom, and helped her sit on the toilet.

“Don’t get up. I’ll be back in about five minutes to get you. I don’t want you walking without help. Understood?”

Sam nodded and leaned forward until her forearms were on her legs.

 

* * * *

 

Ethan fed her while she was bound, kneeling on the floor. He sat at a chair in the playroom and used the metal cart as a table.

When he finally decided it was time for them to sleep, he put her on her back with her arms still threaded through her bondage collar, bound her left leg out at an angle, and connected her left ankle cuff to a loose loop around her thigh, so she’d have to keep her leg bent. It wasn’t terribly uncomfortable, and she was tired enough she could probably sleep in just about any position, but…he hadn’t been kidding about keeping her bound.

When they awakened the next morning she was given another five minutes on the toilet, a glass of juiced greens and citrus, and was put over the spanking bench.

He pulled a huge ginger root from the playroom refrigerator and sat in front of her as he fashioned it into a variety of pieces — one for her ass, another for her pussy, a sliver to go between clit and clit hood, and a few pieces to go between clit hood and labia

“Tell me the levels of punishments and consequences. How do I divide them up? Not the things I can do, but the things you do to earn them.”

Sam closed her eyes. She didn’t want to watch him prepare the next instruments of her torture. She’d pushed him to punish her, and she’d known there was a possibility it would be horrible and painful and long, with no relief for possibly days. She’d have been pissed and disappointed if he’d backed down, so part of her was secretly happy he was cementing his place in her life as her Master once again, but,
damn
.

“When you’re training me for something and I haven’t learned yet, I get a consequence. Not because I’m bad, not because you’re upset with my actions, but because you use a combination of positive and negative feedback for training. It isn’t a punishment, just a consequence.”

He nodded and she continued. “When I’ve been trained to something and fail to do it, the consequences are more intense. You’re usually disappointed in my actions. Sometimes, there’s a quick consequence at the time, and a more intense punishment later.” He let her take a few seconds to organize her thoughts before going on. “When I fail to follow an order but it isn’t intentional…so if I genuinely forget, or somehow perform it wrong when I should have known better, the consequences are usually the same or just slightly worse. Sometimes, there may be a longer punishment later, if you feel the lesson needs to be reinforced.”

She took a breath and gave the part he wanted to hear. “However, when I deliberately disobey an order, everything changes. When I make the conscious choice to not submit, to go against your wishes or desires, you have to make an impression on me to assure it doesn’t become a pattern. If it were ever to become a pattern our relationship would fall apart, and neither of us wants that, Master.”

“It’s been a long time since you felt the stainless cane.”

“Yes, Sir. It has.” Sam’s insides went to jello, and even though she’d just peed, she felt as if she needed to again.

“I’m not convinced you can handle more than three or four strikes of the stainless, but your actions demand I make a serious impression.”

Sam kept her mouth shut and looked at the floor.

He sighed. “You’re going to receive seven strikes, but not all at once.”

His face came into her vision as he stooped to her level and put his finger under her chin. “Three strikes of the stainless at the top of the hour, and six strikes of the tawse thirty minutes later. Another bathroom break if you need it, and then back on the bench until the top of the hour, when you’ll receive thirty strokes of the three-eighth’s inch rattan cane.”

He stroked her cheek. “You’ll stay on the bench another thirty minutes, and at the end you’ll receive four strokes of the stainless.” He sighed. “I’ll make excuses for you, so you can take a nap while Jerrod and I train today.”

Sam whimpered as he inserted the ginger pieces, and five minutes later when they were making their presence known and she felt as if the skin were being burned away, she screamed and begged for relief. He didn’t take her voice, but she eventually stopped and tried her best to accept the pain.

When he stepped into her vision with the stainless cane, she began crying again before he was even in position.

 

* * * *

 

When Ethan finally let her up and helped her into cropped off sweatpants and a loose tee, Sam was beyond exhausted. Ethan fed her a nice breakfast in the playroom bed, made sure she could make the walk from the playroom to the bedroom okay, and then stayed by her side until she was in bed upstairs.

He motioned to the call button he’d installed on her nightstand while she’d been recuperating and said, “It’s still hooked up. Use it if you need anything.”

He leaned down to kiss her forehead, and handed her a cold gel-pack. “Punishment’s over, we’re good again, but you have to know I’m going to be stricter with the rules for a while to be sure you understand who’s in charge, right?”

“Yes, Master. I love you.”

“I love you, too.”

 

 

Chapter Twenty

 

 

 

“Is she okay?

Ethan smiled. “Yeah, I just wore her out. What do you have planned for me today?”

“I thought we’d have Sam for you to spar with. If we won’t, I need to make adjustments.” He sighed. “Why do I get the feeling you take her to that room and torture her? Or lock her in, so she can’t come out?”

Ethan crossed his arms over his chest. “Do you
really
think Sam would let me do anything to her against her will?”

Jerrod laughed and shook his head. “You might pull it off, but she’d skin you alive — both literally
and
legally — when you finished.”

Ethan just looked at him, and after a few moments of stony silence Jerrod threw his arms out. “Okay, whatever ya’ll do in that room is none of my business. I get it. Go hang from the bar and do some upside down crunches while I re-plan our day.”

 

* * * *

 

When Sam awakened, she took a cool Epsom salt bath before going to the kitchen in loose bike shorts and sweatpants to retrieve their thinnest gel-pack from the freezer. She carried it to the bathroom, tucked it into the bike shorts, pulled the sweats back up, and sighed in relief.

She was pleased she had her Master back, but wished she hadn’t needed to see the proof. Or
experience
the proof.

When Ethan and Jerrod came upstairs she was curled in her favorite chair with her e-reader.

“She lives!” Jerrod said in a joking tone, and Sam looked to Ethan in question.

“I told him I wore you out.”

She frowned and said, “That’s private.”

He shrugged. “We’re married, so it’s no secret we have sex. While Jerrod’s living with us he doesn’t need to know the details, but it’s inevitable he’ll know when we decide to go at it all night.”

Sam rolled her eyes as she realized Ethan hadn’t spilled the beans about their relationship, but had only made Jerrod think he’d fucked her all night so she needed to nap the next day.

She looked at Jerrod and gave him her sternest look. “Private. Understand? This is not something we talk to others about. Not even our friends.”

He smiled. “Cross my heart, I won’t tell, but I have to admit…the idea of you so tired you need to sleep for half the day has me intrigued.”

Ethan clapped him on the back. “Probably not a good idea to tell me you’re thinking of what my wife might be like in bed. We’re friends, but don’t go there, okay?”

Jerrod laughed. “Of course. The thought never crossed my mind.”

Sam’s phone rang and a quick glance told her it was Cassie. She’d been wanting to talk to her, but her friend seemed to be avoiding her.

She told Ethan who it was before she answered, and gingerly walked out of the room as she was saying, “Hello.”

“So,” Cassie said, “I went to one of the munches and kind of met someone. Do you know Isaac?”

“No, but what happened with Frisco?”

“He’s being an ass but I don’t want to talk about it. It seems easiest to just pretend nothing happened.” She took a breath, and Sam could tell Cassie was hurt. She wanted to wring Frisco’s neck, but for now, focused on her friend.

“Frisco showed me the ropes,” Cassie continued, “helped me understand some things, but it’s time for me to branch out. I like this Isaac, and Peggy said he’s okay and will respect a safeword, but I’m going out with him Friday night and thought I’d see if you know him.”

Sam smiled, relieved her friend was being safe. “I don’t know Isaac, but I know Peggy, and if she says he’s safe then he is.” She paused, and added, “Just to be sure we’re talking about the same Peggy…pearls and a fifty’s style dress and extremely motherly?”

Cassie laughed. “Yep. You nailed her.”

“Good, and you should still be careful, but Peggy wouldn’t intentionally steer you wrong. Do you want to talk about whatever happened with Frisco? I kind of feel responsible, and if he hurt you…”

“No, I’m okay, and I got a great friend out of the deal. Cam’s awesome; I only hope Frisco lets him keep having lunch with me a few times a week.”

“If he doesn’t, their contract only has another three or four months, if that, I think. I’m hoping Frisco won’t be petty, though. I mean, if you and Cam are talking shit about him then I could see him not wanting Cam around your influence, but as long as everyone’s a grown-up there shouldn’t be a problem.”

“Yeah,” Cassie sighed. “I’m hoping. Thanks for reassuring me about Peggy. I’m really looking forward to my date with Isaac Friday night.”

“Anytime you want a safe call, just let Ethan and I know, okay? If you want one for Friday night, it’s no problem.”

“I think I’m fine, actually, but I’ll text you before noon Saturday letting you know I’m okay. How’s that?”

“Perfect. Be safe and have fun.”

 

* * * *

 

Sam had to take it easy for days, and was mortified Jerrod thought she was walking funny because Ethan had fucked her too many times in a single night. She felt her face go hot every time she caught him watching her walk, or taking note when she sat gingerly, but there was nothing she could do about it. The truth was worse.

She declined offers for a bike ride for a week, and managed cardio with crunches, push-ups, pull-ups, and kettle bell training.

By the following weekend she was back to herself, and went for her first run since she’d been shot, while Ethan and Jerrod were busy in the basement. She made it almost a full two miles, so at dinner she announced, “I want to run in the morning. My goal is two miles in under eighteen minutes.” She looked at Ethan. “Any chance you can get most of your run in and time it so you swing by the house around seven o’clock? I’ll be outside waiting so I won’t break your stride.”

Ethan looked to Jerrod who said, “We’ll try to time it for seven, but it could be ten minutes earlier or later. I’ll call you when we’re about five minutes away, does that work?”

“Perfect. I’m gonna get a glass of wine and hit the hot tub. I welcome company but I’ll be fine alone with the crickets.”

“I don’t want Ethan in the hot tub tonight. He’s pretty beat up and heat will just intensify the bruising.”

Sam’s head snapped to Ethan. “Why are you beat up?” She’d been downstairs with them a couple of hours, but had spent a good part of the day preparing for court Monday.

“Conditioning training,” Ethan replied. “Making sure my abs and ribs can take a beating, and teaching me how to defend against it.”

“Take your shirt off.”

Ethan raised his eyebrows a few seconds, and stood and walked into the kitchen. Sam followed and crossed her arms as he pulled the already opened bottle of wine from the refrigerator, removed the silicone stopper, poured a glass, and offered it to Sam.

“Take your shirt off,” she repeated in her most no-nonsense tone.

“Drink your wine. I’m fine.”

She uncrossed her arms and put her hands on her hips. “If someone told you I was pretty beat up, would you let me get away with not showing you?”

Ethan sighed, placed her wine on the counter, reached his right arm to the back of his neck, and pulled his shirt over his head. Sam maneuvered him under the track lighting and looked over every bruise and red spot.

“Take a deep breath and let it out slowly.”

“Samantha—”

“Oh no,” she interrupted, “don’t you
Samantha
me. Take a deep breath and let it out slowly.”

His ribs moved like they were supposed to, and the bruising was bad, but nothing serious. The deep breath was uncomfortable but not painful. He’d live.

She tossed his shirt back at him. “Okay, nothing serious, but Jerrod’s right about not getting in the hot tub.”

“Of course I’m right.” Sam spun and saw Jerrod leaning against the doorframe. “I checked him over, and I know how hard to push when I train.”

Jerrod was approaching forty, and while not as big as Ethan, was still big, and an ex-champion. He was in awesome shape and looked like he could step into the cage and kick ass.

He’d been around as coach for so long she’d stopped seeing him as a fighter, but he looked every bit the bad-ass, leaning against her door frame with his muscled arms crossed over his huge chest.

Sam rolled her eyes and said, “Okay, maybe Ethan isn’t the only one who tends to go psycho-protective at the drop of a hat. Sorry if I overreacted,” she glanced at Ethan and looked back to Jerrod, “but you can’t just drop a line like that on me and expect me to
not
need to see.”

Ethan stepped to her and kissed her forehead. “Come on, I’ll sit outside with you while you relax in the hot tub.”

Jerrod shook his head and laughed. “Just when I’m convinced Ethan’s the one who wears the pants, you do something to make me think you’re the one really in charge.” He shrugged. “I’m about to decide you aren’t kidding when you say you’re partners. Living with the two of you makes me hope I can find someone who’ll put up with me, someday.”

Ethan put his arm around Sam. “I wanted someone strong and capable. Someone who wouldn’t let me walk all over them.” He kissed the top of her head and added, “Be careful what you ask for. I love her more than I can possibly say, but there are times I can’t remember why I wanted someone so strong and opinionated in my life.”

Sam leaned into him. “I guess I’m kind of the same, but it’s just as much about brains and intelligence as it is the muscles, for me. I needed someone who could stand up to me intellectually, but there are times I wish I could convince him to do what I want and make him think it’s his idea.”

Jerrod shook his head. “I don’t think I ever realized how much give-and-take there had to be to make a relationship work. Watching the two of you, I think I understand better why my last two girlfriends left me.”

Sam smiled. “And the one before that?”

“Oh, she was just a bitch and I sent her on her way. But my last two, I thought we were…I’d thought about popping the question. I mean, not soon, but eventually, you know?”

Sam grabbed her wine and headed towards the back of the house. “Follow us out, if you want. I don’t think there’s gonna be any hanky-panky tonight. Why do you think they left you?”

“Because I was an ass? One of them tried to talk to me about something that bothered her, but I didn’t see how it affected me. It seemed more like her problem than mine. But, when Ethan doesn’t understand why something is bothering you, he asks you to explain. It’s occurred to me I never bothered asking — just decided it was something she’d have to live with because it didn’t seem like a big deal to me.”

Sam pulled her t-shirt off; Jerrod had seen her in bike shorts and sports bra before. She sank into the warm water, Ethan stretched out on a lounge chair, and Jerrod settled his beer on a side table before sitting in the rocker beside it.

Ethan finally spoke. “If something’s upsetting Sam enough to bring it to my attention, it doesn’t matter if I understand why it’s bothering her. It’s our problem, not hers, because we’re a team.”

“It works both ways, though,” Sam said. “When he’s upset, I have to address it, too.” She thought about it a few seconds and said, “Also, he has to tell me when something is bothering him. I’m not a mind reader.”

Apparently ready to change the conversation, Jerrod nodded, leaned back, and looked towards Ethan. “I know what I want to focus on next week, but what do you feel needs work? A big part of winning is feeling confident, so what do you think you lack confidence in? What do you worry about another fighter pulling on you?”

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