Unable to hold eye contact, she closed her eyes and looked down. Thankfully, he didn’t insist on her going right away, or continuing to meet his gaze.
“When you’re ready, then, but I need you to drink at least another six ounces.”
Still looking down, she accepted the straw and drank until she thought she’d reached the required amount. He didn’t insist on more when she stopped, and though she tested her bonds while he returned the bottle to the refrigerator, she knew they’d hold firm and she’d likely have to go before he’d release her.
He’d warned today would be challenging both mentally and physically, and she was beginning to understand what he’d meant. Between his pushing her past the point of wanting to safeword, plus this…today was proving to be difficult in many ways. She knew it would bring them closer, and knew she’d been hoping for something like this all week, and would’ve been disappointed if they’d gone home without his pushing their relationship to the next step. However, now that it was here, she just wanted it to be over.
“There are ways to restrain your head and make sure it stays out of the way. However, I’d like you to use your self-control to keep the back of your head against the tile. Can you do that for me?”
Sam leaned her head back and found the position more comfortable than hanging forward, but could she hold it during whatever tortures he’d planned? She wasn’t sure. How to tell him she’d try? She tilted her head sideways and lifted her shoulders, hoping to show him she wasn’t sure.
“Will you try?”
She nodded and he smiled. “Okay then. If you can’t, we’ll restrain it.” He leaned forward and gave her a passionate kiss. “I really hope you can hold it out of the way, though.”
He retrieved the flogger he’d used on her inner thighs and turned to face her. “You still aren’t allowed any words.” He stepped to the side of the shower wall and added, “I won’t be able to see the beach while I’m flogging you this time, so you’ll need to be a lot quieter than you were earlier.”
Ethan walked back to her and asked, “How are your nipples?” as he leaned his head down and sucked her right nipple into his mouth. Sam squealed and groaned as the suction stretched the bruised, aching, inflamed skin, and then his tongue soothed it. He gave the same treatment to her left nipple and smiled as he stood. “A little sore from earlier, I see.”
His face was stern as he held eye contact and said, “I know they hurt already. I know what I’m about to do will be more than you think you can handle, but I expect you to deal with it. Hold your head back, keep as quiet as you can, and take what I give you. If you can’t hold your head still I’ll handle that for you, but if you can’t be quiet then I’ll take you inside and give you even more pain than you’ll receive out here.”
He kissed the tip of her nose. “Show me you want to submit to whatever I give you. Trust I won’t injure them, even if it feels as if I’m shredding them.”
He backed up and flicked his wrist twice, and Sam gave a quiet yelp as she realized just how bad this was going to hurt. He must have seen the terror in her eyes, because he smiled and said, “Don’t look down. Show me you don’t have to look at them to make sure they’re okay.”
His hand went into motion, and was a blur as he went back and forth, left breast to right breast. Every lash struck the outside of both breasts for a while, and then he switched the pattern so he struck the insides, still alternating right and then left in a never-ending figure eight.
Sam didn’t breathe for a while as she tried to hold her breath to keep from screaming, but when she finally had to draw in oxygen, it was all she could do to keep from opening her mouth and bellowing at the top of her lungs as she pushed the air out. She pulled with her arms and tried to kick her legs, but her restraints held firm.
Her mouth and brain wanted her to scream Matte, so she held her breath again, determined to fully submit. She’d given herself to him sexually, and this was what he demanded of her.
He stopped and stepped to her. “Breathe, Samantha.” His fingers feathered across her cheek. “Come on. You’re doing great, but I need you to breathe. If we were playing with breath control I’d have let you breathe a long time ago.”
Sam drew in a breath and realized how lightheaded she was. He watched her take a few breaths and stepped back to the refrigerator. She wanted to refuse to drink, but knew it wouldn’t do any good, so she accepted the straw and took a few sips. It wasn’t enough, and he insisted she drink more.
He was so kind, so tender, and she drank as much as he asked. She pursed her lips, boldly asking for a kiss, and her heart soared when he leaned in and sealed his lips to hers. He owned her soul with the kiss, and it was the full connection she’d needed, so she could get through whatever came next. Ethan wanted to hurt her, and she wanted him to use her for his enjoyment. She could take this. She could do whatever he asked of her.
As he walked back to the refrigerator she finally gave up and relaxed the muscles holding her bladder closed. She felt the warmth exiting her body, heard it splashing below her, and aimed her face towards the electric blue sky as she finally found blessed relief.
“That’s it. No secrets from me. Nothing held back.”
He stepped into her vision and she closed her eyes. “No shame, Samantha. It’s a natural body function, and I’ve already told you it was expected. You did good.”
Her eyes met his and she relaxed, even though her face felt as if it were on fire. He looked pleased, and at that moment, her world revolved around his pleasure.
Sam had wanted to adjust the showerhead earlier in the week, but was too short to reach it. However, Ethan didn’t even have to stretch to point it away from her. He turned the water on, fiddled with the temperature until he was satisfied, and then aimed it at her ankles. The water worked its way slowly up to the top of her chest and back to her feet before Ethan finally turned it off. It was warm, thank goodness, and she was grateful to have the pee washed down the drain.
“I love watching a rubber flogger strike wet skin,” he said as he retrieved the flogger he’d made from bicycle inner tubes. The falls were long and heavy, and stung something awful on dry skin. It would be a bitch on wet flesh.
The first strike centered on her abs and Sam gasped at the unexpected location.
“Look at how the water flies off, and how fast your skin turns red. It would turn brighter red and hurt worse if I’d used cold water, but I wanted to give you a bit of a reward.”
The flogger struck the front of her right thigh, then left, and Sam stifled a scream. This flogger always stung, but striking wet skin made it feel as if it weighed five pounds, and each impact felt so much more intense.
“Mmmmm. So beautiful.” His eyes rose from her thighs to her face. “Are you ready? I’m about to get started in earnest. You have permission to answer the question with words.”
Part of Sam wanted to ask if it mattered whether she was ready, but mostly it just felt right to say, “I’m ready for whatever you choose to do to me, Sir.”
The affection in his smile melted her heart, but then he focused on her legs and his face changed.
Sam’s feet pressed into the floor as she hopelessly tried to shrink backwards into the wall. The flogger moved nonstop, each strike a deliberate blow with only a second or two until the cruel strands landed on another part of her body as he randomly lashed breasts, stomach, hips, pussy, and thighs. Sam fought the restraints as her body unsuccessfully tried to escape the blows, though she had enough self-control to hold her head out of the way, and to keep from screaming. Barely.
When he at last dropped the flogger to his side, he appraised her body like a painter checking for spots he missed.
“Do you want me to stop? You may answer the question with words.”
“Please don’t make me, Master.”
“If you don’t answer, I’ll untie you and our day will end.”
“No!” The word rushed out before she thought about it. “Please don’t, Ma
ster.”
“Please don’t…what? Don’t flog you anymore? Or don’t stop?”
She shook her head. “I want you to stop flogging me more than almost anything, but if you do, I’ll be disappointed. I may even be upset with you.” Tears formed and she fought to keep them from spilling onto her cheeks. “You promised to be my Master, to own me. You aren’t supposed to ask these kinds of questions!”
“But, if I truly own you, I can ask you anything I damned well please. Can’t I?”
Sam raised her face towards the cobalt sky and closed her eyes. “Yes, Sir. I can’t make demands, but I still maintain it’s just wrong for you to ask me if I want you to stop.”
He chuckled. “Well, wrong or not, I got my answer, and I’m tempted to turn you around and flog the hell out of your back and ass, but I have much planned for the day, and it’s time to move on.”
Ethan released her and carefully walked her to a chair. Sam melted under his expert hands as he massaged her shoulders and arms. She needed the chance to reconnect with him, to be reminded he loved her. She knew he did, but sometimes she just needed the reassurance.
He allowed her to speak at will, and she told him as much. He squatted in front of her and rested his hands on her thighs. “I know I’m pushing you, but…”
He looked away, watched the waves a few moments, and turned back to her.
“I find myself looking for ways to prove to both of us how far my ownership of you goes. Neither of us is going for true slavery, where the slave doesn’t have an exit plan, but I think we both need something concrete, substantial...” he sighed. “In my mind, genuine consensual power exchange demands absolute trust.”
“Ethan. Sir. Master. I begged you to take my safeword. No, I did more.” She smiled. “I nagged the hell out of you about it. I don’t know any other way to show how much I trust you.”
“You show me in hundreds of ways, every time we play.” He stroked her cheek. “And yet, I’m a greedy bastard. I want more.” His fingers trailed down the side of her neck, and he pulled her into his chest in a tight embrace. “But that’s my problem. My issue. I never want you to feel as if you’ve failed me if you can’t give the trust I demand. I know sometimes I ask for an impossible amount, but,” his hand stroked her back, “somehow, you manage to come through.”
Sam leaned farther into him, soaked in his warmth, and enjoyed his embrace.
His chest vibrated when he spoke. “It takes most women weeks to learn to run gracefully, so their torso stays motionless while their legs pump. I’ve watched them train, seen them run for thirty or forty hours over the span of a month, and not look as good as you after less than an hour.”
Sam pulled back, looked at his face. “You have a pony-girl thing?”
He smiled. “I like parts of it, but not the whole thing. The armbinder does it for me, the physical training, where woman are required to learn to run for long distances and look good.” He shrugged. “I spent some time at a farm in North Georgia, and I’d be welcome to go back, if I wanted someone trained, but I don’t want anyone else training you.”
Sam snuggled into his warmth, no matter it was hot outside. The fans above them, combined with the ocean breeze, kept it from being uncomfortable.
“Thank you, Master.”
“You’re welcome, but why are you thanking me?”
“For having the strength to Master me, and to prove to both of us how far we can take it. My life, my career, and my hobbies, are all about control, but when you decide to take it from me, it’s a little comforting, knowing I’m just along for the ride and have no control at all.”
“A little comforting?”
She laughed. “Yeah, and a lot terrifying. How do you always know when I only give you half the sentence?”
He didn’t answer, and she said, “What you said before, about consensual power exchange demanding trust.” She took a breath and plunged ahead. “You’re right, and I do trust you, but sometimes I’m terrified while I’m trusting you, and I’m not sure how to handle both emotions at once.”
He kissed the top of her head and caressed her back. “Explain how you can feel both at once.”
“Well, I trust you won’t harm me. Injure me.” She pulled back enough to look up and meet his gaze. “But our relationship is kind of based on edge play, isn’t it? Seeing how far you can take me? It isn’t that I’m afraid you’ll bring me to harm, it’s just the element of the unknown, or in some cases, the known.” She rolled her eyes. “Sometimes I’m sure you tell me what you’re about to do just so you can see the fear in my eyes.”
He stroked her cheek and shook his head. “No, not the fear. The anticipation.”
Sam let his words soak in, and she snuggled back into his chest. “I know the day isn’t over, and it will probably get worse. It’s true I’m anticipating what comes next, but I’m also a little afraid.”
They sat in silence a while, just resting and relaxing, and Sam finally said. “I wouldn’t change a thing, though. I’ve loved our time here, but I was beginning to chafe a little, wanting you to take us to the next step. Now that you are, it seems silly to bitch about it.”
She looked up, met his gaze again. “I may not like everything you’ve done, or will do, but I don’t want to change a minute of it. I’m here for you. I belong to you, and today has…” She paused as she gathered her thoughts. “Today has proven it a little more.”
He stood, kissed her forehead, and said, “Well, I think you’ve had enough down time.” He nodded towards the outdoor refrigerator. “Go get something to drink, and then bring the coconut oil and lean over my lap.”
Sam would never get used to the act of leaning over Ethan’s thighs, and she only forced her body into the right position by reminding herself he’d earned her submission, and she wanted to give it to him.
He held her down with one large, meaty hand on the small of her back, and used the other to get her asshole slick.
“Tell me. Why am I only using one finger in your asshole, Darlin’?”
“Because you want me slick, but not stretched.”
“And why is that?”
“Because you want to stretch me open with your cock, not your fingers.”
He pulled his finger from her asshole, popped her on the right cheek, and then the left. “Close enough. Stand up and lean over the stainless table.”
Sam did, and fought back a complaint when he told her to hold her ass cheeks apart.
He stuck his finger in her again, his face very close. “It’s amazing this small hole can stretch enough to take my cock. You feel so tight around my finger, and yet I’m about to cram something so much larger in. The human body’s ability to adapt never ceases to surprise me.”
She heard and felt him maneuvering behind her, spreading his legs so he’d be a good height for fucking her.
Sam grunted as the head pressed into her, and took a breath as he paused, thankful for the time to get used to him.
“Keep your hands where they are until I start pulling back out. I’d like to see them on the table above your head once you remove them.”
The right side of Sam’s face rested on the table, and she wasn’t sure she could pull off a nod. “Okay, Sir.”
He leaned forward, settled his hands on the table on either side of her, and pressed in, hard and fast and without apology. Sam bent her right leg at the knee and squealed, but managed to keep her body still and her hands spreading her butt cheeks.
As soon as his body bumped hers and he reversed direction, she placed both palms on the table just above her head and braced herself. He grunted approval and slammed back into her.
No one said anything as he took her ass, but just as Sam opened her mouth to ask permission for an orgasm, he said, “You’ll come when I do, and not a minute before.”
Sam screamed in frustration as Ethan pulled her body backwards a few inches, so her clit no longer pressed into the table.
“My body. You experience what I say.”
He didn’t take long, and within minutes his rhythm went crazy, and Sam worked herself closer to an orgasm in anticipation. When he finally plunged into her and held, she was ready, and she writhed under him on the table as he pressed into her ass and jettisoned deep in her colon.
She so wanted to reach down to play with her clit, but forced her hands to stay on the table over her head. They’d had a nice interlude, and she didn’t want to spoil their day by making him punish her.
Ethan pulled out of her slowly, and she gave a small yelp when he came out. He chuckled and helped her stand.
Before he could ask, she said, “I’m good, Sir.”
He tapped her on the nose with his pointer finger. “Don’t get impertinent.” His smile told her he was amused, and she lifted her face to kiss the tip of his finger.
He wrapped his arm around her shoulders and walked her to the kitchen. “I’ll man the juicer, grab what you want and bring it to me.”
She gathered kale, parsley, apples, and pineapple, settled them onto the counter beside the juicer, and asked, “Will I be allowed any actual food today, Master?”
“Do you feel I haven’t given you enough calories?”
Sam shook her head. “You’ve given me plenty of calories, Sir.”
“Grab two more apples, and a tomato, and…”
He paused and Sam asked, “Maybe some carrots?”
“Yes, perfect. I was wishing we’d bought beets, but carrots will work.”
He methodically worked everything through the juicer, and then kissed the top of her head as he handed her a tall glass of grass-green juice. “Today will go however I say it will go, and right now, I say you get juice.” She nodded and concentrated on drinking as much as she could in one, long, gulp.
“You’ll get a huge breakfast tomorrow morning. Anything you want. I’m taking you to a highly reviewed pancake, waffle, and pastry breakfast place.”
Ethan cleaned the juicer as they drank, and when Sam reached the bottom of her glass he ordered her to stand and bend over the table.
No Safeword: Matte - the Honeymoon Page 6
