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No Safeword: Matte – The Honeymoon © August 2014 by Candace Blevins
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First Edition August 2014
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No Safeword: Matte
The Honeymoon
By Candace Blevins
Chapter One
“I can’t believe how green everything is,” Sam said as they pulled out of the airport in their rental car.
“I know,” Ethan agreed. “It’s almost like it’s a different shade of green than we have at home. More vibrant or something. Makes me want to run.”
“My thoughts exactly. Maybe we can go for a run on the beach when we get to the house? We’ve had to sit far too much today.”
Ethan caressed her thigh. “I intend to pretty thoroughly wear you out tonight, but a short two or three mile run sounds good.” He nodded towards the on-board computer. “Can you put the address in for the UPS Store and grocery store, so we can get those stops out of the way before we find the house?”
Sam looked the addresses up on her phone, keyed them in, and said, “I wasn’t too sure about the last plane ride, from the big island to Maui, but it turned out to be a lot of fun. I’ve never ridden in such a tiny plane before.”
Ethan chuckled. “I’m just glad we splurged for first class tickets for the long trip from Atlanta to Hawaii. The puddle jumper at the end was fun, but I enjoyed tormenting you under the blanket on the sleek jet.”
When they went into The UPS Store for Ethan to pick up the toys he’d shipped, Sam was surprised to see a few smaller packages as well as the large box Ethan had sent, but when she asked about them he only smiled and changed the subject.
Still caught up in how impossibly green the landscape appeared, and a little mesmerized by the odd cloud formations against the brilliant blue sky, Sam was quiet for the last leg of their drive as the GPS directed them to their rental house.
The online pictures had made her think more of a Pizza Hut than a home designed for paradise, but the photos hadn’t done it justice. The lavish house sat in the middle of six acres of beautiful grasses, unusual trees, and unfamiliar but gorgeous tropical plants creating a thick brushy area around the structure. Also, she hadn’t quite grasped the scale. Three thousand square feet in a single level home was huge.
“You don’t see green lawns leading down to the beach in Florida,” Sam said as she released her seatbelt.
“Not in the tourist areas, anyway.”
Sam tilted her head in acquiescence and Ethan changed the subject. “I’m not sure how Kirsten knew about this place, or managed to get us such a great deal, but I think we owe her an extra special souvenir.”
“Definitely. You’re still up for a two or three mile run, right? The beach is practically calling to me.”
Ethan leaned across the four-wheel drive SUV they’d rented to give her a quick peck on the lips. “Have I mentioned lately how perfect you are for me? Let’s get our luggage inside, change clothes, and work off some energy.” He reached into the back floorboard for the groceries they’d just bought, opened his door, and added, “No wonder you’re so ready for a run or an intense workout on the days you’re stuck in court all day.”
They gave themselves a quick tour of the house, and wondered at the guest room that seemed more like a high-class jail than luxurious rental. The room consisted of a utilitarian shelf mounted to the wall in place of a bed, with a nice mattress on the shiny metal. Another stainless shelf, with rounded corners, was across the room at the height of a dresser. A corner of the room served as bathroom, with a toilet and sink against one wall, and a shower head mounted to the ceiling with a large floor drain under it. The floor was a rough stone tile throughout the room, and fancy metal scrollwork on the windows would keep anyone from escaping.
“What on earth?” Sam mused.
“Kirsten told me the house can double as kink central, maybe this is for people who want to be locked up?”
“She told us the rafters can support suspension, and the house is soundproof, and a few other peculiarities. It seems odd she didn’t mention this room.”
He put his hand at her back and nudged her away. “We’ll ask her about it later. We should put the groceries away before the ice cream melts.”
They unpacked, changed into running clothes, and decided to walk for a quarter mile before running, in lieu of stretching first.
The clean salt air, the cool ocean breeze, the sound of the waves, the soft sand under her feet, and the rhythm of she and Ethan running in step soon made everything disappear in her head, and Sam became the run. No worries, no hassles, no upcoming anal torment — just her, Ethan, the beach, the deep ocean, and the endless sky.
Ethan’s watch beeped to signal they’d reached a mile and a half, and the two slowed and looked at each other. “I know it isn’t in the plans,” said Sam, “but I’m a little disappointed it’s time to turn back already.”
“I know the feeling, but we’re heading back anyway.” He pulled her to him and kissed her thoroughly before adding, “Your ass is mine tonight, Samantha. No one around to hear you scream, no safewords.” He popped her on the ass, hard, and took off without her.
Sam’s stomach did a backwards handspring into her heart, and she paused a second to reorient before pushing off from the sand to catch up. No safeword for the first time he took her ass? She was equal parts excited and terrified. He’d been entirely too happy to remind her she didn’t have a safeword, and she thought she might have liked it better when he seemed conflicted about taking it from her.
The couple didn’t speak again until they reached the house.
“Showers?” asked Sam.
Ethan shook his head. “The scene starts now, Samantha. I don’t intend to keep you on speech restriction all evening, but for now, no talking unless you’re asked a direct question.”
Sam nodded her understanding and Ethan continued. “Strip and go into the blue bedroom down the hall from the master suite. You can use the restroom if you need to, and then kneel on the floor to wait for me.”
Ethan took nearly five minutes to meet her, and when he arrived Sam’s heart sped at the site of the enema equipment casually draped over his arm.
He tossed a folded piece of plastic on the bed. “Spread that across the bed while I get everything else set up. There’s a whole-house filtr
ation system, which makes preparation a good deal easier.”
Sam heard him filling the enema bag as she smoothed the plastic shower curtain over the bed, and then stood beside it with her arms folded at the small of her back and her eyes on the floor.
He carried a small bucket with a bulb in it, as well as the bloated enema bag, and she watched from the corner of her eye as he hung the bag on the metal canopy over the bed and settled the bucket on the glass-topped bedside table.
The largest enema nozzle she’d ever seen hung from the enema bag, and Sam had to work to keep from reacting.
“This has never been one of my kinks, either,” Ethan said, “but I found myself intrigued as you talked about being turned on by my having this level of control over your body.” He stroked her cheek and kissed her forehead. “I’ve discovered I like the idea as well, especially knowing it turns you on for me to command something so personal, so fundamental. I had to order some things kind of last minute, and have them shipped here instead of to the house.”
He stepped away and motioned towards the bed. “Hands and knees on the bed, with your ass facing me. I’ll get some towels and be right back.”
She grasped the large, black nozzle and was relieved to discover it was flexible and not rigid plastic. She could handle both the length and width no problem after the training Ethan had put her through, but she still had to wonder how it would feel to have her ass spread wide while the water went in. And the hole in the center was pretty big around — how would so much water feel going in all at once? The bag had to hold at least a gallon; there was no way she could take so much.
Ethan wouldn’t take long to get the towels, so she quickly climbed onto the bed. The plastic crinkled under her knees as she situated herself, and she managed to be in place with her back arched just as he returned. “Mmmm, I do love this view. Have I ever told you just how much I love your ass? I can’t wait to ram my cock into it.”
His words were beginning to have an effect, and Sam had to keep from reaching for her clit as it grew and throbbed in the open air between her spread legs.
“Soapsuds with the bulb first for an initial cleanout, and then we’ll see how much water you can hold. No words yet, Samantha darling; I’ll tell you when you can go.”
Did that mean she couldn’t ask? Couldn’t let him know when she really needed to go to the bathroom? She could always whine and moan, but she hated having to communicate without words. However, she knew how much he enjoyed taking her power from her in as many ways as possible, and in a twisted sort of way, she’d miss it if he stopped.
Didn’t mean she always had to like it, though.
He lubed her ass quickly before turning his attention to the side table. She heard the water rushing into the bulb as he squeezed and released in the bucket, and turned to see him moving the bulb from the bucket to her ass.
He filled her with the bulb twice, and the cramps started almost immediately. Damn, why did she have to tell him this turned her on? Shit, she needed to go, and the toilet was at least twenty steps away.
Sam whined as she turned to look at him, trying to beg with her eyes.
Instead of telling her to go, he asked, “How did you tell me you took your mind off things so you could hold it longer? Show me.”
Sam fell to her side, reached for her clit, and humped her hand with exaggerated motions. As before, the movement confused her muscles and the cramps subsided to something a lot more bearable.
She kept at it a few minutes, changing positions and altering her pumping action until a sharp cramp hit and she barely kept from screaming “Fuck!” by switching at the last minute to a wordless scream.
When the cramp subsided he said, “Okay, Samantha. Head to the bathroom when you’re ready.”
Sam slid from the bed and rushed to the bathroom, thankful Ethan didn’t follow.
When she returned to the bedroom Ethan was sitting in a chair looking at his phone, but he set it to the side and gave her his undivided attention. “You have your speech privileges back, but don’t forget your manners.”
He nodded towards the hanging enema bag. “The water was almost hot when I put it in; I just checked it and the temperature should be good. You’ll let me know if it isn’t.” He motioned towards two stacks of towels. “The towels on the right are bath sheets, put one of them on the plastic, so you’ll be more comfortable.”
He waited until she began smoothing it over the bed to continue. “I’ll give you a small enema first to rinse the soap out — about a quarter of the bag. When you come back we’ll see how much you can take. I’ve discovered I like the idea of forcing you to take more than you think you can handle. I decide what goes in you, and how much.”
He leaned across the bed to smooth a wrinkle she wouldn’t be able to reach until she climbed onto the bed. “I expect you to communicate, to tell me when you think you’ve had enough, to let me know when the cramps hit, and most certainly to let me know if the pain becomes more than you can handle. However, the final call on how much you get and how long you’re expected to hold it will be mine, not yours.”
Sam climbed onto the bed and rested on her left side. Ethan didn’t tell her how he wanted her, so she decided she’d take the initiative until told otherwise. He didn’t correct her, but walked to her and began to lube the big-assed evil looking nozzle.
He fingered her briefly to distribute the lube, and began pushing the nozzle in without ceremony.
“I love the way your ass looks as it stretches around the black silicone. I can’t wait until I’m watching my cock make the same trip.”
He pushed until he met resistance, and flipped the clamp to release the water.
Sam groaned as the warm water flowed into her, and Ethan asked, “How’s the temperature?”
“It’s good, Sir. Much more and it’d be too hot, and I’ve never used it this warm, but I think it might help with the cramps. Maybe.”
“That’s the idea. Ice water enemas are used as punishment because the cold creates cramps. Warm water helps keep them at bay.”
He stopped the flow long before Sam would’ve asked, and said, “Okay, up on your hands and knees a second.”
His large hand covered her stomach, his fingers massaging and prodding. He finally pulled it away and gently removed the nozzle. “Okay, slowly roll onto your left side, and keep going until you’re on your back.”
Sam did as he asked and he spread her legs and massaged the area around her clit without actually touching it. Sam moaned and pushed her hips up, silently begging for more, but he only smiled and continued to torture her.
When a cramp hit and she pulled her knees up and rolled onto her side, he massaged her stomach until it subsided, and then gave her permission to go to the restroom.
When she returned, he had her get comfortable, lubed her again, pressed the nozzle into her ass, and started once more without ceremony. He allowed her to change positions as often as she wanted, and suggested she masturbate when she begged him to let her go to the bathroom. Her stomach swelled as the bag emptied, and Sam squeezed her bottom as tight as she could, terrified some liquid would come out during a spasm.
He let the water go in slow, and stopped when cramps hit, but didn’t relent until the bag gurgled as it emptied into her. He was sympathetic, and he soothed her during cramps, and played with her between them to keep her horny. Once again, the dichotomy of him being both tormentor and nurturer threw Sam off balance. She loved him for the comfort he gave, while part of her brain kept trying to remind her he was responsible for her needing comfort in the first place.
Ethan flicked the clamp closed. “I’ll leave the nozzle in to help you hold it. You don’t have permission to come.”
Again, caring and considerate, followed by stern and strict. In the same, damned, breath.
However, she’d never felt so full, and wasn’t sure she could hold it in for more than a minute.
Another cramp hit, and she gasped, “How long, Sir?”
> “It’s probably best you don’t know.” He pulled a bullet vibe from a bedside drawer, turned it on high, and nestled it beside her clit.
“You don’t have permission to come,” he repeated, “but you have permission to play with yourself in any way you want.”
Still on her left side, with her left leg almost straight and her right bent to try to relieve pressure on her stomach, Sam reached around her distended belly with her right hand, inserted the tips of three fingers into her pussy, settled the heel of her hand over the bullet vibe, and pressed it into her clit. A cramp hit and she thrust her hips, in another attempt to confuse the muscles, and screamed at the barrage of sensations as she broke into a sweat once again.
It seemed forever before he finally gave her permission to go to the restroom. He removed the nozzle, helped her stand, and walked her to the toilet, but mercifully allowed her privacy to release.
When she thought she’d finished, she took her time wiping to be sure she was clean, and walked to the great room, only to realize she wasn’t finished. She raced to the closest bathroom and called out to him, asking if he’d please bring her tablet.
He brought a sports drink along with her tablet and left her alone to finish. When she finally came out, he motioned to a rope hanging over a rafter and said, “Grab the knot.”
She had to stretch to reach it, and her heart quailed as she noted the leather strap in his hand.
“Run in place, with your knees as high as you can get them. If you need to go back to the bathroom you can, otherwise you’ll run until I decide you’re finished.”
When she slowed, or didn’t pull her legs high enough, he’d lash her legs with the strap as she ran. Sam screamed with every strike, and worked to maintain her speed and height, in spite of the burn. Her bowels suddenly twisted and she yelled, “I have to go again, Sir.”
Ethan took a step back and motioned for her to go, and her fingers protested as she finally let go of the knot and ran for the bathroom.
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