No Safeword: Matte - Happily Ever After (Safewords) (33 page)

“Call me when you’re done and I’ll free your hands long enough for you to wipe and clean up.”

He’d never restrained her while she eliminated before, and her bound wrists with the extra pain of the nipple clamps made it an entirely different experience. She cramped and hurt as everything came out, and tears stained her face when he returned to
hopefully
remove the clamps.

He stroked her cheek, looked into her eyes, and removed both clamps at once. Sam screamed and gasped in pain as the blood flowed back into the tortured nerve endings, but he left without looking back.

She figured it’d been ten minutes, and hoped he wouldn’t be back in five minutes to put them back on.

Fortunately, he didn’t come back, and when she was ready to get up and move around she called to him. “I think I’m done, Sir.”

He released her hands and said, “Clean up a little and then run around to make sure.”

When she next reported to tell him she was through, he lifted her most comfortable armbinder from a barstool and motioned for her to turn around.

She smiled and turned, happy she could accommodate this particular kink for him. He’d been prepared to let it go, but Masterson hadn’t taken it from them, just delayed it a little.

Gentle hands wrapped the familiar soft leather around her arms and settled the straps around her shoulders. He tightened the laces until she whined, and then ran through them again to pull her arms a few millimeters closer.

She breathed a sigh of relief when he stopped and moved to the stove, but he only stirred the pot before returning to tighten the laces again, and again. Each time he ran through the laces the muscles and bones were compelled farther and farther into the contorted position.

Sam welcomed the stretch and burn in her chest and shoulders as the skin, muscles, and tendons strained to elongate and distend, while her back was forced to compress, compact, and fold.

He stroked down her arms over the supple leather before retrieving a ruler from the kitchen drawer. She felt him measuring the space between her wrists before he said, “You still have a ways to go, but I’m proud of you for the progress you’ve made.”

“How much farther until my hands touch?” she asked.

“More than an inch, and I’ve already told you I won’t talk about specifics with you until we have less than an inch to go. I’m in no hurry to see everything touch. You’re beautiful in it already and I don’t care if it takes another month, or another six months, to get you the rest of the way.”

He turned her around and his lips were on hers, controlling and demanding as the stubble of his jaw rasped her skin and his tongue invaded.

She gasped for air when he pulled away, but he didn’t give her time to recover.

“Bend over, keep your legs straight and spread them until you can comfortably rest your forehead on the padded chair seat.”

He waited for her to find a good balance before he bent to her with the alligator clips again. He at least put them on gingerly instead of snapping them, but Sam had to stifle a scream when he immediately added weights to both.

And then more weights, until her breasts looked like cones.

“No need to ask for permission to go back to the restroom, just stand and go if you feel the need.”

He took the clamps off for a few minutes here and there, gave the blood an opportunity to bring the nerve endings screaming back to life before replacing the horrid things at a different angle.

She made a quick trip to the bathroom once, and was mortified when he had to wipe her when she was finished. He didn’t comment, though he also had her bend over near the sink and used a wet washcloth to be sure she was clean.

“Okay, back to your chair in the kitchen, Darlin’.”

He washed his hands when he returned to the kitchen, and went back to working with his pot on the stove. It smelled wonderful but she didn’t tell him so — she wasn’t very conversational while dealing with the piercing pain to her nipples.

He set the table while she was leaned over, and when he finally removed the alligator clamps and helped her stand, he kissed her until her heart fluttered in her chest again.

“I love you.” He kissed her forehead and motioned her towards a stool at the table. “We have soup for dinner — butternut squash with some celery, onion, chipotles, cloves… it’s all blended together so you can drink it with a straw. You have lemon water with a straw as well.” He nodded towards her wine glass. “You’ll have to ask for the wine.”

Drinking from a straw with her arms behind her, was…different. Not at all the same as kneeling at his feet and depending upon him to feed her. Instead of being able to just kneel and wait for the food to come to her, she had to actively take part in the meal. She decided what she wanted next, and then either wrangled one of the bent straws into her mouth, or asked for some wine.

When they finished eating he sent her back to the bathroom while he cleaned up. “I doubt you need to go anymore, but try for me, please.”

He finally walked her downstairs to the playroom again, his hand around her waist to be sure she kept her footing, and helped her climb onto the bondage table. The face hole was open, and he had her lie on her stomach and rest her forehead in the cradle.

Surprisingly, he started with a foot massage and worked up her body. When he made it past her ass he removed her armbinder, had her stretch her arms over her head, and proceeded to massage her back.

“I’m not complaining, Sir, but…I guess I’m confused?”

“This is our last sexual evening together for a while, and I want to give you as much pleasure as I give you pain. I want to touch you all over. Love you all over.”

“When do I get to give you a massage?” She liked the idea of loving him all over, too. All those firm muscles under cappuccino skin — her mouth watered just thinking about it.

“You can give me a non-sexual massage any evening you want between tomorrow and the fight, but tonight I get to decide what happens.”

When he finished her back he turned her over and worked on her front. Ethan had always had skilled fingers and hands, but tonight they were pure magic as they traversed from her shoulders to hips. Just as she thought his hands would go where she most wanted them, he moved to her feet and began working his way back up.

She couldn’t hold back any longer, and began to beg as his strong fingers skillfully worked her thighs and then inner thighs, taking his own sweet time.

“Oh god, Ethan,
Master
, it’s the most wonderful torture, but it’s still torture. I need to come sooooo bad. Please?”

“I
do
love to hear you beg, but it’ll be a while before you have any more orgasms. Just relax and enjoy, Darlin’.”

He spread her legs, fingered her a while, and even used his mouth. He kept her on the edge without trying to take her over, so she didn’t have to hold back, but she was
so
frustrated, and so needy. God, his tongue, and his fingers, and…

“Please, Master! You’re driving me crazy!”

“Good to know.” He scissored his fingers on either side of her clit and she moaned deeper than she’d known her voice was capable.

When he finally sat her up he said, “I’m going to give you what you want for a warm-up. My gift to you. It’ll get rough later, but my plan is to work you up to it and keep you needy so you can handle it.”

He caressed her cheek. “I want it to be good for both of us, but we both know it’s going to have to hurt at the end.”

“I know, Sir.” She wrapped her arms around his neck and hugged him tight. “I love you so much.”

His arms folded around her and they were as one, breathing in sync, and they held each other for several long moments. Just
being
.

Sam took a deeper breath and let it out in a pleasurable sigh. He gave a small chuckle as he caressed her back, and then lifted her from the table, walked to the chain and rope spiderweb, and gently settled her on her feet.

“Step onto the stool, lean into the web, and find a comfortable position. I’ll be back in a sec with rope.”

She did as he said and ended up with her hands holding rope not too far from her shoulders and just a little below.

Ethan wound the rope around her limbs and the spiderweb until she was a part of it — a permanent fixture. He pulled her right leg a little farther away from her left before binding it, but she was still quite comfortable. She knew he’d probably want to fuck her here, so it made sense.

Slick fingers probed her ass and she pushed towards him as something invaded her bottom. It wasn’t too big and she moaned in pleasure as it settled inside her, and then jerked as something pressed into her pussy.

More rope, this time around her waist and the webbing, and then through her crotch to be sure everything stayed inside her.

Both toys came alive at the same time, and she jerked and gasped, and then writhed on the rope.

Ethan slid the stool out from under her and she panicked for only a brief moment before realizing the rope held her.

She calmed and became one with the web. Trusting it. Trusting Ethan.

Her master wanted her here — bound, restricted. Trusting the ropes was the same as trusting him, believing in his knots, his ropework. She was as safe in the rope’s embrace as she was when wrapped in his arms.

The first swipe of the flogger was more of a brush. A caress.

She moaned and squirmed as the soft leather slowly heated her skin. He moved from flogger to flogger, and added intensity until the slow burn was a raging inferno, and still, she wanted more.

The rope web rippled and flowed around her, shifting in waves as she moved, and practically pulsing as the flogger fell again, and again, and again.

Her Master occasionally turned one or the other vibrator off, and partway through he gave her permission to come as often as she wanted.

And she did.

Sam knew something was about to change when he walked to her front and untied the crotch strap, but she hung limp on the rope and caught her breath while she had the chance.

He removed the vibrator in her pussy but left the plug in her bottom.

Sam thought she might orgasm again at the mere touch of his cock pressing into her, but she breathed through it, wanting to feel him inside of her before she flew into the stratosphere again.

However, when his arms slid through the rope and cradled her to him, it was too much and she only hoped she still had permission to come at will because she hit the summit and sailed into ecstasy with no warning — all she could do was scream and beg as it engulfed her in pleasure.

“Fuck yes,” he growled, “come on my cock. Let me make love to you a little while before I hurt you again.”

Her eyes opened and she took a stuttering breath when hit with the feral power of his brilliant green gaze.

At times he watched as a lover, and at times as a predator on the savannah, eyeing prey. Today, it was a combination of the two, and she had to close her eyes because the intensity was just too much.

Ethan took his time fucking her, sliding in and out in long, slow, smooth strokes. Sam moaned in ecstasy with each entrance, and whined in complaint when he pulled out and stepped away.

He caressed her cheek and gazed into her eyes. “As much as I’ve loved making you fly and giving you the kind of pain I know you like, it’s time for me to get rough.”

“I know, Master. I love you.”

Fear and adrenaline flooded her veins, but it wasn’t fear of being hurt. This was the apprehension you feel while watching a horror movie, when you’re choosing to be there because you
want
the thrill of being terrified.

Sam wasn’t sure if he meant for her to see the tawse, but she did, and her heart beat against her rib cage as heat flooded her clit.

Her body braced for the first strike, but as soon as she realized she’d tensed, she forced herself to relax. He wanted her to accept this, submit to it.

She hadn’t even noticed the music until he turned it off, and then the silence was so
loud
. Her ragged breath, her heartbeat, Ethan’s footsteps as he walked back to her. The sounds distorted as if they’d gone through a funhouse mirror, and — suspended in mid-air — Sam couldn’t get grounded, couldn’t find her center.

The first strike of the tawse seemed to echo in the room, but a half second later her scream drowned out all other sounds.

Pain can be something you float on top of, or it can be a physical force that smothers you. She’d had plenty of the smothering kind when she was shot, and then later while recovering. However, this pain, given lovingly from her Master? She never wanted it to end.

Ethan gave her enough time between strikes to climb on top of the pain and then fear the next while she floated.

A particularly hard strike had her fighting to pull air into her lungs, and if there’d been anything in her bladder she’d have lost it.

The pain centered her as her body convulsed in a delirious frenzy on the dancing spiderweb of rope and chain. She
craved
the feel of the tawse and wanted it harder, and faster.