No Safeword: Matte - the Honeymoon

by Candace Blevins

  She moved around a little, testing the bondage, and when she was convinced she couldn’t escape, relaxed back into it. She desperately wanted to close her legs and try to get some friction or pressure on her clit, but he’d spread her wide, and it wasn’t going to happen.

  She focused on his power over her, how helpless she was, how good the spanking felt, and how he could easily increase the power behind each blow and have her begging him to stop.

  It didn’t take long to work herself close to an orgasm, and she gave him every sign she could think of to let him know she was close, but he just kept plugging away at the spanking until she thought she’d explode.

  The blows had been consistent for so long, when he began striking harder it caught her off balance and she hopelessly tried to stand.

  He kept the same constant rhythm, but each blow was a little more than she thought she could bear, and she fought her bonds and screamed with every impact.

  Her body must have heard his order before her brain parsed the meaning, because by the time she realized he’d said, “Come, Samantha. Let it go. Now!” she was already beginning to writhe and spasm.

  He didn’t back off, and if anything, struck even harder as she screamed, gasped, jerked and twisted through her climax.

  She soared through the stratosphere, each impact tossing her higher and higher, until colors exploded in her vision and her body collapsed into the supporting bondage, unmoving except for her rib cage expanding and contracting as she gasped for air.

  Gentle fingers caressed her blazing thighs as Ethan said, “That’s one, only seven to go. Do you need some water?”

  Sam met his gaze in the mirror and nodded, as she wasn’t quite able to form words just yet.

  She accepted the straw and drank half the bottle before he took it away. “Let’s not fill your stomach all at once. If you want more before I offer it again, you have permission to ask.” He kissed her forehead and circled around behind her again, absently settling the water bottle on a workout bench as he walked by.

  A finger slid casually into her pussy, and withdrew. He stepped away, retrieved an exercise ball, and sat on it behind her.

  Two fingers slid into her, and she moaned and shamelessly tried to push back.

  “We’ll go at my speed, Samantha, but it’s good to see you’ve recovered so quickly.”

  He slid his fingers in and out another dozen times and mused, “I wonder if you’ll be wanting more, or begging for a rest after another couple of orgasms.”

  Sam didn’t know, and didn’t particularly care at the moment. She wanted more fingers, and faster, but knew better than to make demands.

  “Sir, you’re teasing me! Can I have another finger, please?”

  “Mmmm. You ask so nice, but no. This is about reaching climax from vaginal stimulation alone. No pain, no stretching you wider than you think you can handle, no mind games other than the bondage. Someday we’ll repeat the exercise without bondage, as I’m pretty sure it helped you reach your first orgasm.”

  Well, yes, it had, but she wasn’t of a mind to admit it unless he insisted. Still, she could work with this. His refusal was a mind game, after all.

  She closed her eyes and relaxed into the sling, but realized she couldn’t relax too much and keep her back arched.

  Her mind went back to the night she spent hogtied, and imagined what he might do if she bowed her back now, so soon after her agonizing reminder.

  No way did she want another consequence, but the idea of having to undergo it was enough to get her juices flowing. She arched her back until the muscles protested, and focused on how sadistic it was to give her so little stimulation and expect her to orgasm on command.

  He hadn’t said what would happen if she failed, and she imagined him strapping her into one of those fucking machines she’d seen online, and leaving her in it overnight and into the next day, until she was exhausted, but unable to keep from being aroused and suffering through orgasm after orgasm.

  This was all fantasy of course, because they didn’t have a fucking machine, but it did the job and before long she was so close to coming she had to hold onto it.

  His fingers changed rhythm, sped up a little, and brushed her g-spot just as he ordered her to come.

  She’d been holding on so tight, and when she let go it was as if she’d been held between two bungee cords, and when the bottom one was released, the top one catapulted her into space before letting go.

  Ethan added a third finger and picked up speed as her orgasm grew, and Sam screamed as pure ecstasy swamped her senses. She fought her bonds, and though she felt her muscles and bones surrender to rope and steel, she couldn’t stop the fruitless struggling against them as her body thrashed and flailed out of control.

  Ethan finally pressed an unknown number of fingers into her and held. The pressure stretched her, though her insides continued to contract and jerk around him. She was helpless to stop him, to stop herself, and the orgasm stretched into infinity.

  When she finally collapsed into the sling, she was pretty sure she was done for the night.

  However, he gave her some more water and began rearranging her.

  He untied the rope from the center of the spreader bar and gently helped her stand – sling and all. Her wrists slid up the supports as she stood, and slid some more when he lifted her at the waist and shifted her forward until the shins of her spread legs touched the supports.

  The rope he’d just disconnected was tied to the top of the chin-up bar, but with a good deal of slack.

  He didn’t let go of her as he circled behind, and she felt him tying something to the ropes holding her into the sling.

  He tugged her backwards and she resisted, but he said, “The rope in front will support you. Lean back for me. Trust the ropes. Trust my knots. Trust me.”

  He pulled her back until she could see the wall behind her, and tied the rope at her shoulder blades to the spreader bar so she couldn’t stand.

  She was off balance, with her hands to her side, her legs fixed in their spread open position, and the ropes above and below immobilizing her body between them. Her muscles protested, but she tried to relax, knowing he wanted to see her submit to him by yielding to the position.

  The view in the mirror was upside down, and she closed her eyes to shut it out.

  A loud slapping sound had her eyes flying open, and the mirror reflected a mat on the floor in front of her. She watched his reflection kneel before her, saw his mouth headed for her crotch, and closed her eyes against the disorienting upside-down vision.

  His tongue stroked one side of her clit, then the other. Fingers gently pulled her pussy lips away, and his warm tongue swiped the sides again.

  His face pulled away from her and he said, “If I can’t get my mouth away to order you to come, I’ll lay my hand flat on your stomach.”

  His warm hand covered most of her abdomen, and he held it there as he talked. “When you feel my hand here, it’s an order to come.”

  He withdrew his hand and cool air brushed her heated skin, and then her pussy lips were gently spread once more, and his tongue licked long, slow, strokes on either side of her clit without touching it.

  She pushed her hips toward him, and realized it made the position more bearable. Her breaths went from shallow to deep, and she moaned in frustration.

  It took him a while to get her worked up this time, and she had to help things along by concentrating on the bondage. He’d bound her so she was available to him, without thought to her comfort.

  Clitoral orgasms were the hardest for her — hardest to reach, and hardest to control.

  When she felt herself growing close, she almost panicked as she realized she wouldn’t be able to hold onto it until he gave the order.

  However, she needn’t have worried, because he rested his hand on her stomach seconds later, and her senses imploded.

  She didn’t writhe and twist this time, but froze. The release happened in a completely different place, an
d didn’t involve her pussy at all. There were no spasms, no jerking. Just an unwinding, experienced more as pain than pleasure. Ethan pulled his mouth away and ran both fingers up and down the sides of her clit, over the hood, to continue the stimulation without overpowering her senses.

  Sam couldn’t breathe, couldn’t move, couldn’t make a sound. Her body was rigid in the ropes, every muscle tensed and locked as if a smooth stream of electricity flowed through her body, holding her in perpetual energy so she couldn’t relax so much as her pinky finger.

  When the climax finally released her, she collapsed backwards into the ropes and harness with her knees bent and no weight on her feet. Ethan stood and wrapped his arms around her, flipped the quick release at her back, and pulled her against his chest.

  His strong arms held her, supported her, and he coached her through a dozen breaths before he suggested she might put her feet on the ground and try standing.

  About the time she found her bearings, he leaned her forward and secured her once again. Too tired to fight it, she let the bondage hold her.

  A finger at her ass reminded her of what came next, and she moaned a weak protest.

  Ethan patted her bottom with his free hand. “Just relax and let me do the work. How many orgasms have you had this year with something in your ass?”

  “Too many to count, Sir, but I had other stimulation. Not just something in my ass.”

  He chuckled. “Someday I’ll wear you out so much you won’t have the strength to argue. Hush now. No words. Close your eyes and feel.”

  Sam found she didn’t need to construct a fantasy in her head for this round. Ethan gradually added more fingers, and when he had the stretch and friction just right, when she thought she was maybe a minute away from a huge release, he ordered her to come and her body obeyed.

  When her orgasm faded, she wanted more. Instead of draining her, it spiked her arousal and she thought she’d die if she didn’t feel pain.

  “Sir,” she gasped. “I need pain! Please, Sir!”

  “Lucky for you, that’s next on the list. I’ll even let you decide which implement I should use.”

  “Your belt, please Sir.”

  Her ass ached for the sting, the slice. She wanted the impact, the sweet, sharp burn of leather against flesh.

  Ethan was gone and back in an instant, and he didn’t make her wait long. Sam knew the truly sadistic thing would be to do nothing, and she was grateful he chose to give her what she wanted.

  The first slash came, and she groaned in pleasure and pressed her ass towards him. He struck across her bottom and the backs of her thighs, and just when she was ready to beg him for harder and faster, he tore into her.

  The belt landed again and again, with barely a pause, and she groaned in ecstasy with every contact.

  She felt the orgasm coming, wasn’t sure she could hold it off, and yelled, “Sir, it’s close. Please!”

  “Then come for me. Let it go.”

  He kept the same rhythm and intensity as Sam began to thrash around in her bondage. It was too much, but the orgasm took control and she couldn’t do anything except writhe and gasp, scream and jerk.

  As her climax finally waned, Ethan slowed and stopped. Sam hung limp once again and managed a weak moan of gratitude as Ethan’s hand caressed her bottom and thighs.

  “I think maybe we’ll retire to the bedroom for your final three orgasms. Let me wash my hands and I’ll get you out of there. Will you be okay for a few minutes?”

  Sam nodded, but he said, “I need to hear it, please.”

  “Yes, Sir,” she managed. “I’ll be fine.”

  He washed his hands, released her, and carried her like an infant to the master bedroom.

  Sam passively watched as he connected her wrist cuffs to the headboard, and then wound rope around her bent legs, encasing them from ankle almost all the way to her knee.

  “I’ll give you a choice. You’ll be more comfortable like this, but if you’d rather I tie your legs open, so you can’t get in trouble for pulling them together, I can.”

  Sam sighed. She hated being forced to choose. “How about we try it like this, and if I can’t manage, you can tie them open?”

  * * * *

  By the time she had her final orgasm, Sam felt as if she needed a nap. Ethan washed his hands, released her, and stretched out beside her.

  She snuggled into his side, and he wrapped his arm around her. “The rain doesn’t appear to be letting up. How about we order a pizza before we move onto the next item on the list?”

  “What comes next, Sir?”

  He didn’t answer, and Sam didn’t ask again. “Do you want me to place the order?”

  “No, I can do it. Lie still and rest.” He kissed her forehead. “I’ll be back.”

  They had pizza in bed, and by the time they finished, Sam had revived enough to continue.

  “The beach is deserted,” Ethan said. “I think it’s safe to spar in the rain.”

  Sam turned and looked out over the desolate shore. She could barely see the ocean through the pouring rain.

  “That may be the case, but I’m not sure I want to go out there naked.”

  Ethan raised an eyebrow and she added, “Sir.”

  “That can work in our favor,” Ethan said with a sadistic smile. “You’re allowed a t-shirt or nightgown, but I’d advise not wearing something you’ll be upset to see destroyed.”

  He nodded towards the door. “I’ll get a few things set up in here, and will give you a thirty second head start. When I catch you, I fully intend to take you. I hope you’re lubed at that point, because I won’t be, and I don’t intend to go easy on you.”

  “I’ll need more than thirty seconds to get ready, Sir.”

  “I know,” he nodded. “I’ll need about five minutes to prepare as well. Nothing starts yet.”

  Sam went to her luggage and pulled out a thigh length nightgown, and then went to the kitchen in search of the coconut oil. She lubed her pussy well, and then lubed and stretched her ass. They’d be fighting on the sand, and she worried the sand would stick to the oil, but wasn’t sure how to avoid it.

  A couple of blankets were laid out on the floor of the bedroom when she returned, and Ethan looked up to say, “I’m almost finished. How about you?”

  Sam nodded and Ethan walked to her and gently lifted her chin. “You’re much too calm. I’ve learned from experience it’s best if I give you a reason to fight, a reason to fear me, when we do this.”

  Sam’s stomach flip-flopped, but she nodded her head in agreement. To make it feel real, she had to truly be afraid of what would happen. The bitch of it was, they both knew he’d win. Whatever he said would happen, was going to happen. All she could do was fight to delay the inevitable.

  “If you don’t knock me down at least once, and land at least five solid hits or kicks, then when I’m done fucking you in every hole I’ll put the armbinders on you, clamp your nipples, tie your wrists to the beam in the great room, put the largest plug in your ass, and thrash your legs while I make you run in place for thirty minutes or so.”

  He moved his fingers from beneath her chin to her temple, and his palm cupped her cheek. “No safewords, Sam. You’ll fight me, and I’ll take you, and if you don’t fight me hard enough, you’ll suffer for it later.”

  Sam marveled that he’d found a way to make her fear him without making the end result inevitable, but she also worried she wouldn’t manage to do the six things necessary to keep from having to endure his twisted ending.

  “I understand, Sir.” She nodded to the blanket. “Does this mean you’ll bring me inside to take me?”

  “I’ll fuck you wherever I damned well please. You know how this works.”

  She sighed. “I do, Master.”

  He kissed her forehead. “And yet you keep asking for it.”

  She started to apologize, to tell him they didn’t have to do it, but he touched her lips to silence her and said, “Oh no. I love this. Love the challenge
of taking you down and holding you while I take you. I love having you fight me with such intensity. Every time you hit me, it just urges me on and makes me want to claim you so much more.”

  Sam closed her eyes and nodded. Nothing else needed to be said.

  A finger ran under the shoulder strap of her nightgown. “This is pretty. Are you sure you want to wear it?”

  “I’m not willingly going out there naked. If you order it, I will, but if I have the option of wearing clothes, I’ll take it.”

  “You only have permission for the gown, not for anything under it.”

  “I know, Sir.”

  His smile was wicked. “Okay then. I’ll enjoy tearing it off you.” He ran his finger across his phone’s screen, touched it a few times, and said, “Your thirty seconds start now.”

  Sam hadn’t expected it so soon. She was ready, but thought they were just talking. She wasted at least three seconds looking at him before her legs began to move and she raced for the door.

  The rain wasn’t cold, but it was a deluge, and she was soaked before she was four steps out from under the patio covering. The sand was hard packed and pebbled under her feet, and she made her way towards the ocean, hoping to get around the brush far enough he couldn’t find her.

  She exited the broad pathway onto the wide expanse of beach and looked left and right. There were more places to hide if she went right, so she turned left, assuming he’d expect her to go the other way.

  She ran forty yards and wished she’d chosen the other direction. Desperate for a place to hide, she ran into the scrub and ignored the scratches as she knelt low. Slowly, she peeked out with as little of her head showing as possible. She didn’t see him, and breathed a sigh of relief. She needed to wait until he was visible and had run the other direction, and then she could risk running again.

  Within seconds she saw him running towards her, and her heart sunk as she looked down and saw her footsteps, faint in the sand, yet still visible if you looked close. Which of course, Ethan was. She’d have been better off just running and not stopping.