No Safeword: Matte - the Honeymoon

by Candace Blevins

  He offered more sports drink, and then it only took a few seconds for him to attach the cruel clamps. When he ordered her to begin again, she felt tears forming at the added pain. The clamps bit into her more with each bounce, and he said, “Graceful, Samantha. If you do it right you can keep your torso practically still. I’ll be adding weights to your nipples soon, so I suggest you figure it out quickly.”

  He was quiet a while, and mercifully didn’t use the whip as Sam found a rhythm and managed to keep the heavy metal clamps from bouncing. She timed her breaths with her steps, and discovered the act of pointing her toes as her feet pushed off the floor helped keep the continuous flow going.

  She’d almost forgotten about Ethan when he stepped into her vision and said, “Excellent. I’m pleased. Don’t stop; I can add the weights as you run.”

  She lost her rhythm for a half dozen steps as she adjusted to the pain of the weights, and as all of the other hurts reminded her of their presence, but as she fell back into the never-ending, fluid motion he’d coached her into, much of the pain became background noise once again — albeit a very loud cacophony.

  The first strike of the flogger to her shoulders made her stumble.

  “You’re doing great, Samantha. Keep going. It may take us a few minutes to find a mutual rhythm, but I’m going to flog the hell out of you while you run. My end game isn’t to draw blood, but if it happens I don’t intend to stop.” He struck again and she felt every knot of every strand, and screamed all of the oxygen from her lungs as she lifted one foot, and then the other.

  He flogged her a few dozen times and stopped. She couldn’t tell what he was doing from behind, but she kept running until he said, “Okay, rest a few seconds.”

  She looked up as he connected something to her right wrist, and her heart sank as she realized it was a spreader bar. When he’d connected both wrists, her arms were far enough apart she was back on her tiptoes, unable to touch her heels to the ground.

  “Beautiful, Sam. You’re beautiful. I’ll begin flogging your back and I want you to run to my tempo now. I’ll give you ten strikes to get going and figure out how to match me, if you aren’t there by then I’ll add more weight to your nipples.”

  Sam let the first four strikes land without moving, and lifted her left leg as the fifth blow landed on her right shoulder, and pushed hard to bring her right leg up as the flogger hit her left shoulder. She wasn’t in perfect rhythm by the tenth strike, but was apparently close enough, as he continued without stopping.

  As Ethan sped up with the whip, she had to lift her legs faster. When she didn’t lift them high enough, he hit harder. It felt as if the knots were ripping her open, though she knew they weren’t. She barely had enough breath to run, let alone scream as she pumped her legs gracefully and worked to keep her torso in place, and the lashes continued to fall.

  Gravity seemed to shift, and suddenly, Sam was floating in a sea of blissful peace. Her legs moved under her but her torso stayed practically motionless. Her arms seemed weightless above her, and the rhythm of the flogger kept her tethered to reality. Her muscles burned, her heart raced, her lungs made use of the oxygen they could get. Her ankle, knee, and hip bones worked in perfect choreography with each other, and the relentless strikes of the flogger brought it all together.

  Sam thought she could have kept running in place forever, as long as he kept flogging her, but when he finally tossed the flogger to the side, she kept running to the same tempo.

  Without warning he lifted her by her hips, pulled the plug from her ass, stretched the rope to the side, and positioned her ass over his cock before pressing her onto it.

  Sam drew in as much air as she could with the rope around her ribcage, and screamed as his cock invaded her without giving her time to adjust. As soon her ass touched the front of his body he reached to her front, released the rope, and pulled it from her crotch. He went slow enough to keep from burning the side of her clit, but fast enough it was too much to handle, and her scream filled the room and echoed back.

  Her Master tossed the rope aside and the dildo slid from her pussy and thumped to the floor near his feet. Before she could catch her breath, he was fucking her ass like a wild man again, and Sam squeezed the spreader bar over her head in an attempt to gain some control with her exhausted arms.

  The weights on her nipples were too much now, as he pounded into her from below, but she had no safeword, and had no words at all at the moment, so she screamed and shrieked as he took her, and when at last he spurted into her depths and stepped away, she hung limp from the rope.

  “The day has barely begun, my lovely wife,” he said as he released her wrists from the rope and spreader bar, and lifted her into his arms. “You were beautiful, running for me. Such grace and elegance.”

  He walked her outside and settled her onto the shiny steel dining table. It was under a canopy, and in the shade, and the half wall between her and the beach would keep anyone from seeing her…but still. She was naked. Outside.

  She tried to hold her screams in when he took the nipple clamps off, but they’d been on a while, and she’d never been good at handling that level of nipple pain. It felt as if both areolae were on fire, with every sensitive nerve ending a blistering torment. She knew the pain would fade, but it seemed to stretch much longer than normal, and she was practically in tears before the agony finally faded.

  When she was finally breathing normal, he allowed her to sit up and drink as much as she wanted, and when she indicated she’d had enough, he had her lie back again, centered on the table.

  Her arms and shoulders hurt, and she was grateful he bound her wrists to the outside of the table near her hips. Her legs, however, he lifted over her shoulders, and used wide bands to attach her knees to the sides of the table near her shoulders. A length of rope secured her ankles well above her head, so she was bent in half with her legs straight.

  The position pulled her ass up into the air, and as she squeezed tight to keep the liquid from escaping her ass, he said, “I want to see my cum leaking out of your ass. Don’t hold it in. There’s nothing disgusting left in your colon, not after all those enemas last night.”

  He was right, her final enema had come out all water, with nothing smelly at all. She relaxed her ass and let the cum out, and he affectionately patted the back of her leg as he said, “You have no idea how much this turns me on. I never imagined I’d enjoy taking control of someone’s colon, and not just their ass, but…” He smiled. “I love you, Samantha Levi.”

  She didn’t correct him with the hyphenated last name. She was whoever he wanted her to be right now, and that was fine with her.

  He reached for her chest. “As a reward, I’ll take this off so you can breathe better.”

  Gentle hands removed the rope from around her breasts and rib cage, and he caressed the indentations the rope had made and noted a few areas they’d rubbed the skin. He massaged her breasts, moved up to her shoulders, and down her arms. She groaned in pleasure and he said, “Remember this — if you try your hardest and please me, I’ll give you these little breaks.”

  He fingered one of the raw spots around her breast again and said, “You’ll have all kinds of memories of today.” He grinned as he glanced at the ocean and back to her naked body. “I’m sure the salt water will help these heal in no time.”

  Sam groaned and Ethan chuckled. “You seem to have recovered. Rest time’s over.”

  He stepped to the door and retrieved a duffel from just inside, without leaving Sam’s sight. She didn’t know what he’d put in the bag, but was sure she wasn’t going to like it. This was one of those days she’d masturbate to with fond memories for years, but she doubted she’d have many orgasms while it happened.

  She was horny, but hadn’t had an orgasm yet, and didn’t foresee one anytime soon.

  Her spine attempted to sink into the table as she saw which flogger he pulled out. It was the one with the most sting, and she instinctively knew he planned to use it on
her inner thighs. This flogger wouldn’t bruise, but would feel as if it tore away a layer of skin with each strike. He could use it forever without risk of damaging her, even though it would feel as if every strike after the first dozen were drawing blood.

  “The house is soundproof, so you could scream all you wanted inside. I’m told the walls out here are designed to muffle the sound, but loud screams can still be heard by anyone who happens by on the beach.” He glanced over. “No one is around right now, but if I tell you to be quiet you’ll need to stifle your screams. If you don’t, I’ll take you inside and punish you. Understood?”

  Sam nodded, and her hips moved involuntarily as the spice of fear his words kindled stirred her arousal until she couldn’t lay still.

  His smile was cocky as he stroked her pussy. “So horny, with fear and trust battling in your eyes.” He kissed her inner thigh. “I’m happy to see the trust, but I have to admit I like seeing the edge of fear. Such an aphrodisiac.”

  Sam suppressed a groan as he ran his hands through her slick folds.

  “I love you like this,” he said, his smile affectionate, but still cocky.

  He flicked his wrist and began without ceremony, a fast continuous loop of inner right thigh, inner left thigh. He moved from just beside her pussy, to mid-thigh, and back, again and again as Sam screamed and jerked and fought her bonds to try to escape the blows.

  She didn’t have her safeword, and the realization she couldn’t stop this pushed her arousal higher, which helped her handle the pain. For a little while.

  When she couldn’t bear another strike she yelled, “Matte. Oh God. I can’t take it Ethan. Sir. Master. Please! I can’t take it.”

  He placed he hands beside her torso and leaned forward so their eyes met. “You asked me to take your safeword, and you signed a piece of paper saying you could only get it back in writing. Not verbally.”

  Sam didn’t say anything. She didn’t have permission to talk. Ethan didn’t look pissed, but he wasn’t happy.

  She looked down and saw her inner thighs were bright red, but not damaged, and closed her eyes as she realized how bad she’d just screwed up.

  * * * *

  Ethan had known she’d test his resolve, but hadn’t expected it so soon. Her inner thighs were red, but there was no damage. Nothing else seemed out of whack, and she knew to tell him of a specific problem, if one arose.

  She’d closed her eyes, and he needed to see into them. See into her.

  “Open your eyes, Samantha.”

  He looked into her eyes a few moments as he considered his options. Barreling through and ignoring it didn’t feel right. They needed to talk.

  “You have permission to answer my questions. Are you asking to renege on our contract?”

  “I…ummm. No.” She looked away and quickly brought her gaze back to him. “No, Master. I’m not. I just couldn’t handle it.”

  So, testing him? He had to be sure.

  “Is there a reason I should stop the scene? Something I’m not aware of?”

  She shook her head. “I’m sorry, Sir. The pain was just overwhelming and I… I’m sorry.”

  Yes, she seemed genuinely sorry. Not apologetic, but as if she regretted it. He considered her a moment and finally asked, “You didn’t have permission to speak, nor were you authorized to give your safeword. What do you think should happen?”

  Sam closed her eyes briefly, and then met his gaze with determination. “I think you’re probably going to have to impress upon me how inappropriate it was for me to try to take control of the scene.” She looked down, took in the state of her inner thighs, and lifted her gaze to his again. “I safeworded over pain alone. You weren’t harming me. I should have more control.”

  Well, she’d pretty clearly put the ball into his court, and was waiting to see what he’d do. He had several options, and while he’d have been tempted to let it go with the conversation, and just go back to what he’d been doing before, her statement pretty much told him she expected a consequence.

  He straightened and took a step back, studying her face as he deliberated the best response.

  His mind made up, he leaned back down to kiss her forehead before stepping into position to flog her once again.

  “I’m glad we’re in agreement.” He flicked his wrist and landed the flogger dead center of her pussy.

  His cock throbbed almost painfully at her surprised shriek, but he kept his face stern and waited for her to focus on him again before asking, “Tell me, do you hate this?”

  She’d asked for permission to pretend to hate it today, but he wasn’t sure it was the right mindset. She needed a reminder she wanted this…no, she needed it, just as much as he needed to give it to her.

  She closed her eyes, and he could almost see her tension unwinding and relaxing as her reality shifted from fighting the pain to accepting it. From being pissed at him to loving him.

  “No, Sir. I mean, I hate the pain, but…” She met his gaze. “We both want me to respect your authority. We both want our power exchange to be real, and not just a game.” Her voice broke and her eyes watered. “I love you, Master.”

  She deserved a reward for her honesty, and he rested his hand on her knee, bent to kiss the back of her calf, inside of her thigh, and then leaned up to kiss her forehead.

  “I love you too, Samantha.”

  Her eyes told him she wanted to say more, to acknowledge and recognize her submission again, but she didn’t trust her voice at the moment. He didn’t force her to talk. He didn’t need to.

  She wanted consequences for trying to control the scene, but he didn’t think formal punishment was called for. He would just add extra pain to what he’d already been doing. She didn’t need to know he was about to add her pussy into the mix, anyway.

  He stood, lifted the flogger, and draped it over his shoulder without letting go of the handle. “The rest of your flogging will include your pussy as well as your inner thighs.”

  He struck her pussy a half dozen times and waited for her screams to fade before saying, “I know where you are by the tone of your voice. I’m taking you just past what you think you can handle. Do you trust me?”

  Sam nodded and Ethan ordered, “Then show me,” as the flogger began again, faster and harder than before, with the pattern including strikes to her pussy as well as her inner-thighs.

  He watched her skin, closely monitoring how well it was holding up. He listened to the tone and rhythm of her screams, and struck with more or less muscle based on where he thought she was with each passing second.

  When he finally stopped, she was frantic, and almost out of her mind with the overwhelming sensations. He’d purposely kept the rhythm too fast for her to get on top of it, handle it. He’d wanted her to know how out of control she was, and he’d reached his goal.

  He touched her calves, and smoothed his way to her inner thighs, blending and softening the sharp sting. He watched her breathing normalize, made sure his touches were soothing, and weren’t causing more pain.

  His aim wasn’t to make her horny, but to comfort her and help her find herself again, outside of the blaze of agony he’d put her through.

  * * * *

  Sam relaxed as Ethan’s hands comforted her, practically erasing the bite of the flogger while leaving the wonderful, blissful heat permeating her skin and muscle and setting her on fire from knees to belly button. Her hips moved and she groaned, wanting more.

  “You please me, Samantha.” His words of praise made her heart soar, and the afterglow of pain catapulted her into nirvana. Or maybe she was still lightheaded from lack of oxygen, from screaming so much. Didn’t matter, she loved this feeling; the biology of it was irrelevant.

  Her heart skipped a few beats and her arousal skyrocketed as Ethan’s head lowered to her pussy and his tongue soothed raw flesh. When she was close to an orgasm he lifted his head and said, “Today is about my showing you just how much your ass belongs to me. I don’t intend to use your pussy, but you
needed a reward.” He gave a few more soothing, teasing licks, and stood.

  “How are your arms? Have they had enough time down?”

  Sam wiggled her fingers and took an inventory. Unsure of whether speech was allowed, she shrugged her shoulders and gave a semi-nod. They were okay, but she’d rather not have them bound over her head again.

  “I didn’t ask if you wanted them over your head; I just asked if they were okay for it.” Sam gave him a blank stare and he laughed as he began releasing her bonds, “I told you, I can pretty much figure out what you want to say. You have a very expressive face.”

  Sam wanted to point out he hadn’t figured out how bad she needed to pee, but bit her tongue.

  He released her from the ropes and straps, helped her stand, and walked her to the outdoor shower. She hadn’t noticed the rings set into the wall on either side of the showerhead yesterday, but certainly knew they existed now, as he leaned her back against the tiled wall and secured her wrist cuffs.

  She wasn’t sure what he was up to when he removed her ankle cuffs, and was even more confused when he used rope to secure her ankles to more rings set into the base of the wall. Her position was almost identical to that of a Saint Andrews Cross, with the wall even tilting her back a little.

  Yet another sports drink was pulled from the outside refrigerator, and he offered it to her with a straw. Her bladder was extremely uncomfortable by this time, and she shook her head and pulled her knees towards each other a few inches, hoping he’d get the message.

  “You’re standing in an outdoor shower. If you need to pee, feel free to go. No need for permission.”

  Sam felt her eyes go wide. He couldn’t be serious. Could he?

  His single raised eyebrow told her he was quite sincere.