Safeword: Rainbow (2013 extended edition) (Safeword Series)

by Candace Blevins

  She wouldn’t have to tell him when to stop, because he’d know when she’d had enough.

  Each lash of fire blended into the next, and her body was completely relaxed as she accepted whatever he wanted to give her. The wrist and ankle cuffs pulled her limbs as they held her in place in the absence of her muscles, but it was a background sensation.

  The belt stopped and she moaned in frustration. She didn’t want it to end, and wasn’t sure what to do with the void she found herself floating through.

  Viv opened her eyes at the sound of water, and didn’t see Tyler. The water shut off, and she breathed a sigh of relief when he stepped into the room.

  “There you are, but your eyes tell me you’re still floating. Let me clean you up a little before we continue. Close your eyes and float, Precious.”

  Her eyelids drifted closed and a warm washcloth swiped smooth, comforting strokes on her cheeks and forehead. The gag deflated and Viv almost wept with relief as he gently pulled it from her mouth.

  Tyler held a tissue to her nose several more times and coached her through blowing until nothing more came out. He made a final soothing circuit around her face with the damp washcloth, and Viv readjusted so her muscles and bones were holding her up again, relieving some of the stress to her wrists and ankles. Tyler straightened the pillow again, which settled her head and neck in a more comfortable position, though she hadn’t realized they were at an awkward angle.

  Fingers trailed down her back as he walked to the bottom of the bed. She heard noises, but wasn’t interested in attempting to identify them; he’d decide what happened next, nothing was up to her. How liberating — no decisions, no opinions, no responsibilities.

  A gasp escaped and her body tensed and jerked as a well-lubed, gloved finger slid into her ass. She moaned and tried not to pull away; not only would it be futile with wrists bound to ankles, but she wanted to submit through the difficult as well as the easy. She clenched her teeth as she waited for her body to get past the feeling of being violated, but it didn’t come.

  Another finger pressed in and she worked to relax enough to let it in. She still detested having things in her ass at first. Hated it. He worked her with two fingers for mere seconds before adding a third. It was too soon, she couldn’t relax for it, and she knew he was doing it to make a point.

  No sooner than the thought went through her head, he said, “My ass.”

  All three fingers pushed with an unrelenting pressure until his knuckles finally pushed painfully against her bottom a microsecond before he began savagely fucking her with his fingers — taking her ass without regards to what she thought she could handle.

  She startled herself with a moan, and realized she wanted more, craved more. She needed to come, felt it building. “Please, Sir. Please let me come. I’m begging.”

  He removed his fingers and once again she bit her tongue to keep from saying “Damn you!”

  The room filled with quiet, and she was bereft of any touch.

  As the silence built, Viv’s heartbeat went from pulse to drumbeat, but as time stretched her heartbeat slowed until she no longer heard it, either. She floated in the stillness, with no touch to anchor her to the real world.

  The sound of a zipper tore through the silence, followed by the whisper of pants falling to the ground and the ripping of a condom wrapper.

  Gentle hands released her hands from each ankle and tenderly helped her move her feet to the floor until her hips were aligned at the edge of the bed. He adjusted the spreader bar wider, and her hips dropped lower as her legs spread farther, and farther, apart.

  When the bar was wider than Viv had thought possible, he stood, grabbed her hips, and plunged his cock into her ass in one swift motion. His tenderness from moments ago was gone, replaced with a brutality Viv welcomed with open arms, as it meant he’d finally take her and make her his for real.

  The first thrust lodged him deep inside, but he gave her no time to accommodate his girth before his fingers curled harder around her hips and he pulled back and drove with a ferocious growl, sinking into her depths.

  Viv couldn’t breathe, couldn’t pull her legs together — she felt out of control and vulnerable. Her fingers grasped the bedspread, trying to find an anchor.

  “If you come before I give permission I’ll put clothespins on your pussy lips and make you hold them open while I flog your spread open cunt. Do you understand me?”

  “Yes, Sir.”

  “If you can’t hold back warn me and I’ll stop, but Do. Not. Come.”

  “Yes Sir.”

  His cock jerked back and shoved back in as he fucked her in earnest, relentlessly pounding her ass. She felt her orgasm again, so very close, so tempting, but she wanted to please him more than she wanted to come. “I need to come, Sir!”

  “Ten strokes, you’ll take ten more strokes without coming and then you can ask again later, now count!”

  And she did. “One, Two, Three, Four, Five, Six, Seven, Eight, Nine, Ten.”

  He pulled out and her orgasm fled before it hit.

  She wasn’t sure how she’d kept from coming through the final count, but somehow she had. And now it was gone.

  Strong hands rolled her over, manhandling her torso and limbs until she found herself on her back with her legs in the air, still held obscenely open by the spreader bar.

  Tyler seemed to be in his own zone as he reached for her right arm and connected the wrist cuff to her right ankle, and mechanically did the same with her left. Still appearing to move on autopilot, he removed the condom and replaced it with another.

  His hands weren’t rough, but weren’t tender, either, as he adjusted her ass at the edge of the bed and looked to the spreader bar, pushed the release button, and extended it to its full length before re-engaging the lock.

  His eyes met hers briefly before trailing down to her pussy.

  “One more hole to make mine.”

  He shoved in all at once, with no warning and no warm-up. She was wet enough, but done like that it was more of a claiming. As she thought the words he said, “My cunt. My pussy. Mine.”

  She winced in pain — bad pain, not good pain — as he went too deep, and he must have seen it because he changed angles and then she was in pure bliss.

  “Come when you want. As many times as you want. You don’t have to ask permission, just ride it out.”

  At his words, her body reacted and the freight train bore down on her once more. Her orgasm built and released almost instantaneously, and she was suddenly spasming around him uncontrollably as he drove into her and kept at it. Her orgasm lasted forever, but when it began to fade and she was grateful for the respite, she heard and felt his orgasm begin, and her body began to jerk and contract again, and they came together, their yells and grunts merging into beautiful music, and Viv felt their souls merge, as they had three years ago. She soared and drifted in a sea of bliss with him, no boundaries between them, as if they shared a heart, or as if their souls were sharing both of their bodies simultaneously. The moment lasted an eternity, and this time, as it ended, she felt her soul shrinking back into her body as his did the same, and she knew she hadn’t imagined it. Their souls really had expanded outside their bodies and merged as one.

  She’d tried to capture the feeling with others, but had only found it with this man — no matter which name he went by.

  She must have passed out because the next thing she knew, the spreader bar was gone and she was lying under the covers with Tyler beside her, wiping her face with the washcloth.

  “Sshh, don’t talk. Just float for a bit, and then we’ll order room service.”

  Chapter Eight

  Viv was confused. The scene was long over and she was ready to go back to being themselves, but he was making it clear he was still in charge.

  He’d allowed her to decide what she wanted to eat for dinner the night before, but had attached her wrist cuffs to the chair, making her helpless as he fed her and made sure she had enough to drin
k, much as he’d done three years ago. She’d enjoyed it, but kept wondering when the scene would end.

  The wrist and ankle cuffs were removed long enough for her to shower, but he’d replaced them as soon as she was dry.

  She had no complaints about the way he’d taken her to bed. He’d run a rope under the bed to restrain her arms out to the side, and proceeded to go down on her with his mouth until fireworks flashed before her eyes and an orgasm took her. And he’d made love to her — gently and lovingly this time — until she thought her heart might burst.

  When it was finally time to go to sleep he instructed her to go to the bathroom and empty her bladder, and when she returned he connected her left wrist restraint to the top corner of the bed with several feet of rope, kissed her good night, and held her as she dropped into sleep.

  Her loosely restrained wrist hadn’t interfered with her sleep, but she’d had to wake him in the middle of the night and ask to be released so she could use the restroom. He’d waited for her to return, refastened her wrist cuff to the rope, played with her tender breasts a few minutes, and they’d gone back to sleep.

  And now it was the next morning and he had her head backwards over the edge of the mattress, fucking her mouth while he tweaked and pinched her hypersensitive nipples.

  When he finished he stepped away, ordered her to swallow, and said, “I’m going to get a shower, and then I’ll plug your ass and we’ll go downstairs to eat breakfast. You can shower when we get back; go ahead and brush your hair, put your shirt on, and get out the shorts you intend to wear, but don’t put them on. When I get out of the shower I expect to find you bent over the bed and waiting for me to insert your plug.”

  His voice was more casual than commanding as he nonchalantly added, almost as an afterthought, “Don’t brush your teeth. I want you to taste my cum in your mouth a bit longer. I’ll let you brush them after breakfast.”

  That was the last straw.

  Viv spun around to face him, rose to her knees on the bed so she didn’t have to look up so far to see him, put her fists on her hips, and did her best to ignore the way it pulled her single restrained arm. “RAINBOW, you asshole! What makes you think you can stretch the scene out this long? And what the HELL made you think you could tell me when I can and can’t brush my teeth!”

  * * * *

  Tyler couldn’t believe what he was hearing. Rainbow? She safeworded about brushing her teeth?

  “Viv, I know teeth brushing wasn’t covered on the checklist, but...you let me do everything I’ve done, and pick a denial to brush your teeth for another hour or so as a reason to safeword?” He paused, trying to understand what had triggered this reaction, so he could figure out what to say. He was at a loss, so he said what he was thinking. “I know we haven’t gone over the rules I expect my slaves to abide by yet, but this is tame compared to some of the things I’ll require of you.”

  Her face dropped and Tyler felt as if he’d been punched in the gut. She said just one word. “Slave?”

  He spoke cautiously — unsure what had changed, but certain it was important. “Yes. Do you not like the term? We can use different terminology if the word hits you the wrong way. I don’t mind calling you a submissive instead, or we can come up with something else. Perhaps pet, or property?”

  “You thought…you thought this was...”

  He waited for her to complete her thought. Finally, she finished with, “You expected this to be a twenty-four/seven arrangement?”

  “Yes, didn’t you?”

  “No, Tyler. I’m not a twenty-four/seven kind of submissive. I’m a sexual submissive; I’m only submissive in scenes, only submissive in matters of sex. Not all the time.”

  “Oh”.

  He’d always assumed his Kitten was a full time submissive, and his fantasies of her the last three years had revolved around her being his in every way. He’d never expected to find her, so had allowed his imagination to have free reign. In his mind, it felt as if the two of them had agreed to a full-time arrangement, but when he thought it about it, they hadn’t. He could have kicked himself for being so sloppy, for assuming something so crucial. She must think him a colossal asshole.

  Was this salvageable? He’d looked forward to the day he could finally settle down with someone who wanted a permanent twenty-four/seven power exchange; someone who’d get off on the idea of being owned, of not being her own person, but his property. He would love her and keep her on a pedestal most of the time, but would reserve the right to knock her off the pedestal when it suited him. The fantasy had been his ideal for so long, he didn’t really think he could abandon it.

  Could he treat this as a bedroom game and nothing more? He didn’t think so, but they had to try to find a compromise, or at least a way to stay friends if it wouldn’t work.

  First things first though, she’d safeworded and the scene was over. “Let’s get your cuffs off, and you can shower with me. Once we’re clean we’ll go downstairs and have breakfast. Okay?”

  He saw resistance forming and quickly added, “Let me help you get cleaned up. I got you like this, consider it aftercare. Outside of the power exchange, Viv.” He stepped to her and began unbuckling her wrist cuffs, his voice gentle. “Please don’t pull away, we’ll figure this out, but we should do it cleaned up and on a full stomach. I take full responsibility for not talking about this ahead of time. My only excuse is lame, but I’ve fantasized about you so much, I made assumptions I shouldn’t have.”

  They showered together in silence. Viv allowed him to wash her back, but made it clear she could handle the rest of her body. Tyler hadn’t planned on shaving before breakfast, but when Viv began applying make-up, he shaved to give himself a reason to stay in the bathroom with her. He had the distinct impression she was using her makeup as another defense, a mask of sorts, something else to put between them. He was sure it was his imagination, but it niggled at the edge of his consciousness.

  * * * *

  They hadn’t talked while getting ready, and now they made small talk while they ate, avoiding the subject. Viv hated it, but doubted they could find a way to compromise on this one.

  She’d never lose herself to a twenty-four/seven relationship — not even with a guarantee to stay out of anything work related, and he’d made no promises about even that. The idea of losing herself to the will of an owner wasn’t so bad; the fantasy of it was quite nice, but the reality? No. It wasn’t the way she wanted to live her life. There was no point in trying to compromise because she wasn’t willing to give even a tiny bit. She’d worked hard to get all of her degrees and set herself up for the perfect job. She wouldn’t throw it away right when she was about to finally reap the rewards of all of that hard work — not to mention tuition.

  Halfway through the meal she couldn’t tiptoe around the topic any longer. They were both thinking about it, so they may as well talk about it. When the family seated nearby left, leaving no one close enough to overhear, she broached the subject.

  “Tyler, I’m not sure we’re going to find our way to a compromise on this one.”

  He put his fork down and wiped his hands on his napkin before saying, “Maybe, but I’d like to at least try. What we have is special and I think we owe it to ourselves to make the attempt. As a starting point, why don’t you tell me how you thought this would work.”

  She still thought it a pointless exercise, but in the interests of making future Christmases amicable, she’d play along.

  “There are a bunch of ways it can work. I kind of like it best when scenes can sort-of loosely start. One person maybe hints about it, and if the other responds in the proper language you’d use in a scene, then it starts. So, if I say “Sir?” as a question and you ignore it then you aren’t up to it now, but if you respond with “Yes, Viv?” in that special Dom voice of yours, it puts us in a scene.”

  “The same goes the other way.” She took a drink and continued. “If you say something you’d only say in Dom mode and I respond appropriately
, I’m agreeing to a power exchange for a little while. I’ve had some partners who wanted a more structured arrangement, so we were only in power exchange while I wore a collar. They’d come to me with a collar and I’d either submit to it or not be interested. Or, I’d present my collar and he’d either put it on me or not be interested. We had a variety of collars, most were some sort of bondage collar, but some looked like a heavy necklace and could be worn out without drawing attention.”

  She paused, thinking he’d say something, but he appeared to be genuinely considering her explanation, so she gave a little more detail. “One guy wanted me to be his the entire time he took me out of town, but he never took charge of basic things, like when I could brush my teeth. It was more about sex than...total ownership.” She licked her lips and met his eyes, “The knowledge I’d have to wake you to go to the bathroom last night was bad enough — but then actually having to do it?” She shook her head. “It was hard.”

  “Did it turn you on?”

  “Yeah, at the same time it made me incredibly uncomfortable. I’m sorry, but orders and restrictions outside of sex have never been part of my fantasies.”

  Neither said anything for a moment and she said, “Have you really never had a relationship where you went in and out of scenes? You’ve only accepted women who were willing to commit to you as a slave?”

  “My relationship in high school was vanilla, but the one in college was full-time. I wasn’t as experienced back then, but her rules were in effect all the time.” He shrugged. “I told you I had women in different cities, and they may have only belonged to me while in my presence, but they all submitted to a TPE when we were together.”