Safeword: Matte - In Training (13 page)

“You’re okay with me getting rough?”

“I am, Sir.”

“You aren’t going to freak and nail me in
the nuts again?”

“Do you want to punish me for it, Sir? I’ll
accept it if you do. I’m truly sorry. How can I make it right
between us?”

His hand stroked her lower back, and gently
patted her bottom. “I won’t punish you for it. Let’s agree to talk
more about it tomorrow. Just…” He caressed her lower back some more
during a long pause, and finally finished with, “Just safeword if
you need me to stop, please.”

“Yes, Sir.”

He pushed back inside of her, a steady push
until he was buried, and curled his fingers around her hips.
“You’re sure?”

“Dammit, Ethan, stop asking permission to
fuck me!” She took a breath and added, “Please. Sir.”

He chuckled. “There’s my girl.”

He gave her a half dozen semi-relaxed
plunges before he tightened his grip and began fucking her in
earnest, taking her, owning her. Sam grabbed the bedding in her
hands and held on. Her back threatened to lose its arch, but she
pushed it down and held, determined to be what he needed so he
could get off. She hadn’t counted on having an orgasm herself
though, and it snuck up on her, so she barely managed to alert him
beforehand, and in fact probably told him a split second after it
began, but he didn’t seem to notice.

Sam’s insides quaked and spasmed, but Ethan
didn’t let up, didn’t relent. Her orgasm seemed to go on and on,
with no end in sight, and Ethan continued to pound her relentlessly
as low growls and snarls erupted from deep in his chest. He roared
when he finally came, his entire body going rigid behind her before
he collapsed in a heap beside her.

When Sam could breathe again she asked, “Can
you stay the night? You have clean jeans and a shirt here, if it’s
a normal day at work tomorrow.”

He opened his eyes and stroked her cheek.
“I’ll need to be up by about 6:15, so I can leave by 6:40, and I’ll
need to snag a protein shake before I go. Is that okay?”

“As long as I can cuddle with you tonight,
pretty much anything would be okay.”

“Okay, do you want help with the anal ring?
You have one more time to meet your daily requirements, right?”

* * * *

Sam knew they had a lot to talk about when
Ethan came over the next evening, and she wasn’t sure where to
start. Luckily, Ethan seemed to have figured it out.

“I want to make a change to one of our
oldest agreed upon items.”

Sam raised her eyebrows for him to continue,
and he leaned forward from his spot across the coffee table as he
said, “This isn’t entirely because of yesterday. It’s something
I’ve wanted to bring up, but wasn’t sure it was time, yet.”

“And now you are?”

“Well, that’s up to you, too, not just
me.”

“Just spit it out, please.”

He took a breath, let it out, looked at his
hands, and finally met her gaze. “I don’t want to have to be
constantly on guard against my girlfriend throwing a punch at me. I
know I agreed you could fight me and make me earn your submission,
but I think I’ve earned it.”

Well, when he put it that way he kind of
hand a point. “What did you have in mind?”

“You not throwing punches at me out of the
blue anymore?”

Sam smiled. “Yeah, I got that. How do you
want to reword the agreement?”

His answer was fast enough she knew he’d
rehearsed the next bit. “If you feel the need to fight me, you tell
me. I’ll allow it at some point in the following seven days. I’ll
try to keep it under three days, but if our schedules won’t allow
it, it could be longer.”

He paused, as if needing feedback, so Sam
gave a small nod and motioned for him to keep going. He took a
breath and added, “If you strike me outside of an agreed upon match
between us, you’ll be punished.”

Sam raised her eyebrows. “How?”

He shook his head. “Until last night, I
thought it would be a series of punishments involving painful
subservience.” He sighed and shook his head again, obviously
conflicted. “But if I’m convinced the strike-out was pure reflex,
or because you freaked, I’m not sure my original plan is
appropriate.”

Sam crisscrossed her legs under her and sat
up a little straighter on the sofa. Time to be honest. “As hard as
it is for me to say, the submissive in me still feels she should be
punished. Your balls were off limits, and I went for them. I know I
wasn’t thinking clearly, but still, it feels as if we could put it
behind us easier if you punished me for it.”

He tilted his head, but remained quiet as
she finished her thought. “I agree the punishment should be
different if it’s a freak-out, and maybe it even needs to be
something we sit down and discuss, perhaps say punishment can only
happen after twenty-four or maybe even forty-eight hours, and only
when both parties are ready for it, but I don’t agree there
shouldn’t be consequences.”

“What consequence do you think would be fair
for your behavior last night?”

Sam sighed. It was an honest question, but
she hated having to answer it. “I’m not sure I can say what would
be fair for my initial striking out. If I’d kept it above the belt,
probably nothing, but…” She shrugged. “I don’t know. It feels as if
there should be something, though.” Taking a quick breath, she
added, “My behavior later though, trying to manipulate you into not
using me, I can see now how wrong I was.”

Ethan closed his eyes as if in pain. When he
met her gaze again, he still looked as if he needed a hug. “I know
we usually negotiate across the table, but do you think we can make
an exception today?”

Sam breathed a sigh of relief and scooted to
the side of her sofa. “Yeah, I think today is a different kind of
negotiation.”

He stepped around the table, sat beside her,
and lifted her onto his lap. Sam wrapped her arms around his neck
and nuzzled her face into the spot where his neck met his chest,
and breathed in his scent. Ethan caressed her back a few seconds
and finally said, “I don’t expect you to want sex every time I do.
In fact, part of the power play comes when you don’t want to, but
have to anyway.”

He stroked her back a few more times before
adding, “But last night was different. Last night, if I’d taken you
anyway, it would’ve been rape, no matter what our agreement might
say. I can’t punish you for not wanting to be raped.”

“Okay, so I can’t even begin to argue with
that.” She stayed put, relaxed against his chest while his hand
soothed her back. “But I said some hurtful things, and I didn’t
trust you, and you didn’t do anything to deserve it.”

“I’ll ask again. What do you think would be
a fair punishment?”

“I still don’t know, it just feels like I
shouldn’t get away scot-free.”

“Okay. Let me think about it. I’m more
inclined to come up with something to help bring us together, than
finding a standard punishment. Something to challenge your trust,
perhaps.”

Sam smiled. “Okay then. I’ll trust you to
come up with something.”

“Thank you. Now, back to the changes I
proposed. Would you like to rewrite that portion of the agreement,
or do you want me to do it?”

“I have to let you know when I feel the need
to fight you for my submission, and you’ll try to arrange for it to
happen within two days, but have up to seven days if our schedules
don’t permit it sooner.”

“I’ll make arrangements for it if I agree to
it. I reserve the right to turn you down.”

When she didn’t say anything he said, “I’ve
proven I can take you. I shouldn’t have to keep proving it.”

“You’re right. I’m sorry. I only ask that if
you turn me down, I have a chance to explain why it’s important. I
know you’ll be fair.”

“If I don’t allow it, you may give an
explanation in writing.”

“I can write that part up, but if you want
to outline the punishments, I’d like you to write that section up,
please.”

Chapter Eight

Mr. Masterson’s attorney pushed hard to put
their case in front of a judge at the earliest possible moment.
They tried to claim the mother had kidnapped the children from the
father, but Sam had covered her bases by filing the court documents
before Jenna moved out of the family home, and by making sure Mr.
Masterson was served with the papers before he arrived home to find
them missing.

The photos and medical records were enough
to satisfy the judge, but he ordered a two hour supervised
visitation for a week and a day later, Friday morning. He didn’t
state it in court, but Sam knew he’d decide based on the social
worker’s report whether to continue supervised visitation or allow
it unsupervised. Mr. Masterson held his temper while in court,
though Sam tried her best to trigger it — the man was smart enough
to not show his true colors in front of the judge. She’d have to
see what she could do about that in two weeks, when she’d likely
have him on the stand again.

Sam’s week was beyond busy, and she had to
resort to using the stretching ring only three times a day for
longer periods on several occasions. Ethan approved each request,
but made a point of reminding her she’d face consequences if she
didn’t make the required progress Friday. He’d left her two sizes
to use, and she found herself using the smaller size when she was
in a hurry, instead of taking the time to insert the larger. She
knew she was asking for trouble, but last week had gone so well,
she hoped this would be enough.

Ethan questioned her a great deal about her
day in court with the Mastersons, but Tom’s research project and
their ensuing discussion settled her emotions. She always found it
fascinating when merely labeling your emotions helped make them
fade into the background. When she understood her feelings of
righteous indignation towards Mr. Masterson, and anger at his wife
for taking the abuse instead of standing up for herself and her
children, it was easier to compartmentalize her emotions and
distance herself from them. Mr. Masterson might not see true
justice for his actions, but she’d see to it he wouldn’t be alone
with his children unless he proved his ability to hold his temper,
and she’d do her best to keep their location hidden as long as
possible.

It helped that Mr. Masterson’s attorney was
open to her ideas of anger management classes and counseling, and
urged his client to begin before the judge made them a condition of
future visitation rights.

When Friday evening finally arrived, Sam was
nervous about her ‘test’. She knew she’d fulfilled the bare minimum
during the week, and worried she’d have to pay the piper. Or, the
steel cane, to be more specific.

The enemas were more difficult than normal,
probably because of her nerves, and she couldn’t manage the arousal
to help herself through them. She felt a little off afterwards, so
she drank some extra sports drink in case her electrolytes were out
of whack.

Once Ethan arrived and started the scene,
she had a hard time getting into it as he worked to get her horny.
He finally said, “What’s the problem, Sam?”

“I don’t think I’m going to meet my goal
tonight, Sir.”

“And you’re so busy worrying, you can’t get
into it?”

She nodded and he closed his eyes a few
seconds. The green was more brilliant when they reopened, and Sam’s
heart fluttered at their intensity.

“If you don’t meet your target we’ll deal
with it, and you’ll do better next week. This will go much easier
if you’re horny, but if you can’t focus enough to get there we can
do it without arousal.” His voice softened and he caressed her
cheek with his fingertips. “Tell me what you need, Samantha.”

She needed subspace, and the fastest way
there tonight was probably with the flogger to her back. She licked
her lips and said, “Maybe the flogger? On my back? Something
different to help me relax and get into it?”

He nodded and climbed off the bed. “Put your
hair on top of your head and lean against the wall. Present your
back at a forty-five degree angle.”

The first strike was from one of the
lightweight floggers, but packed quite a sting. Sam breathed
through the pain, reminding herself this one was just sensation and
wasn’t substantial enough to leave marks or bruises.

When she relaxed and began to enjoy the
rhythm and the sting, he switched to a heavier flogger, and the
first strike knocked the breath from her. She inhaled quickly, and
then groaned a deep rumble. The second strike hit during her
exhale, and she planted her feet better, to be sure he didn’t knock
her forward.

A dozen strokes later he switched to a
braided flogger, and she imagined her hands were cemented to the
wall in front of her, to try to keep from turning to avoid the
strokes. Just as she managed to relax and accept the next stroke,
he stopped and his hand went to her pussy. She could tell how wet
she was without him commenting, but he said, “Mission accomplished.
Hands and knees on the bed so I can get you stretched.”

He donned the glove and spread lube while
she climbed onto the bed, and his fingers invaded her ass without
ceremony as soon as he approached her. She gasped and leaned
forward, but at his warning grumble she pushed back, impaling
herself on his hand in order to resume her original position.

She lost track of time as his strong fingers
massaged and stretched her ass, and he caught her by surprise when
he abruptly withdrew and pulled the glove off.

Her heart dropped as she heard, “Okay
Samantha, time to check your progress.”

He playfully patted her ass as she walked to
the stool with the monster plug. She accepted the lube from his
outstretched hand and methodically lubed it until Ethan finally
said, “Enough, Sam. It’s slick.”

She propped over it and lined herself up,
grunting as the rounded tip pressed into her. She moved her hands
from her knees to the stool, but the angle was wrong and she
propped her elbows on her knees and allowed gravity to pull her
farther down. The mirror was too far away for her to see any
detail, or get an idea of how far she’d gone in relation to the
previous week. She tried to push a little farther than she should,
telling herself she could take the burn, but gasped and stopped
when she felt the beginnings of sharp pain.