He made quick work of rubbing it in, and Sam was glad. He was gentle, and seemed to be trying to cause the least amount of pain possible, but it was impossible to keep from hurting her.
When he finished he said, “Okay, you can stand up and have a little free time. If you’re hungry, get something light, just check with me before you eat it, to be sure it won’t interfere with what comes next.”
Sam asked permission to eat some ice cream, received it, and devoured two bowls. Ethan came out of the bedroom and joined her as she was halfway through the second bowl.
“You look like you’re recovering. How do you feel?”
“Tired and sore, Sir.”
He smiled. “Perfect. Exactly what I was going for.”
“When do you tell me what comes next, Sir?”
He shook his head. “I’m not. You’ll figure it out as it happens.” His gaze shifted to the clock and returned to her. “I think I’ve changed my mind about going straight into it, though. Wanna watch a little TV and cuddle?”
“I’d love to, Sir.”
Chapter Nine
Sam put whatever came next out of her mind as she nestled into Ethan’s warmth and watched the next installment of a comedy series. It was good to laugh together, to compare notes on the TV couple’s lives versus real life, and to just sit and snuggle. He insisted she drink two glasses of water, but other than that, there was minimal power exchange. When the show was over, Ethan switched the TV off with the remote, kissed the top of Sam’s head, and said, “Okay Samantha, that’s almost two hours of rest, and now it’s time to get back to it. I have things already set up in the jailhouse room. C’mon.”
He had her lie on her stomach in the bathroom corner, and it didn’t take long for Sam to realize he was putting her into a hogtie. He’d said he wanted her to figure it out as he did it, so she said, “This is because I bowed my back up, Sir.”
“Close. Try again.”
“This is because I bowed my back up four times today. Master.”
“And.”
“And made you come out of me once. Sir.”
He ran rope from her right ankle up and around her right shoulder, and pulled until her back arched. The left side received the same treatment, and then he bound right wrist to right ankle, and left wrist to left ankle.
He squatted in front of her, his face solemn as he showed her the blindfold and earplugs. “I’ll sleep in the adjoining room and will be able to see you from the bed. Wake me if you get into true trouble, otherwise you’ll need to be quiet enough to keep from disturbing my sleep.”
“Please don’t make me hold my head up all night, Sir. Please include it in the bondage. I’m begging, Sir. Master. I can’t…I just can’t, not if I have to hold my head up.”
He inserted the small earplugs in both ears, and then put the large noise-cancelling ear-muffs on over them. Sam thought this meant he wasn’t going to honor her request, but instead of positioning the blindfold, he stood and retrieved more rope.
She felt him knotting it at her right and then left ankle, and as he walked to her front he touched her chin. She couldn’t hear him, but read his lips as he said, “Open.” She obeyed, and he inserted a bit gag into her mouth, and ran both ropes through either side, so her head was held up by her ankles.
When he finished she was nearly looking at the ceiling, and she hoped he used another tie off point, because her mouth would be hurting by morning — not as bad as her neck and shoulders would’ve if she’d had to hold her head up all night, but still.
The blindfold went on next, and he positioned it around her head and over the top of the earmuffs, plunging her into total darkness and silence.
He’d put her in much stricter hogties, but had never left her all night. The longest she’d had to endure was three hours, and it’d been hell. Of course, her back had been at a sharp arch, with her feet touching the back of her head, and now her feet were a long way from her head. Still…all fucking night?
Just when she gave up on him supporting her head better, she felt him at her feet again, and breathed a sigh of relief as she felt a wide strap at her forehead. When he finished, she could completely relax her neck and shoulders, and let the rope support her.
Warm hands moved her knees apart, and she realized once again he hadn’t bound her right limbs to her left. It wasn’t until she felt him spreading her ass checks that she had an idea of why.
The instant the plug touched her asshole, she felt the burn. There was no way to know if it was pepper oil, cinnamon oil, or ginger oil, but she assumed ginger oil. Hoped for ginger oil.
A double-pat to her bottom let her know he was finished, though she couldn’t tell if he stood and watched her a while, or went straight to bed. He’d told her he could see her from the bed he’d be sleeping in, and she assumed he didn’t fall right asleep, but she didn’t know if he was watching her, watching TV, or using his tablet.
As the minutes passed, she stopped worrying about Ethan’s attention and focused on her predicament. She knew the uncomfortable position would be excruciating by morning, but she tried to stay relaxed. She didn’t have control over much of anything right now, but she could control her breathing and her anxiety, so she did. For a while.
The night lasted forever, and the pain evolved from discomfort, to hurt, and finally to an aching agony.
The reality of being bound while he slept, with no way to convince him to let her go, no way to escape, kept her running the gamut from marginally aroused to frustratingly horny. She squirmed and wiggled in her bondage, and tried to ignore the way the rough stone tile below her body rubbed and scraped her skin. With her right side bound separate from her left, she had more wiggle room than normal in a hogtie, but after what seemed like hours, wiggling was too much work and she only moved to try to relieve tension and pressure to a specific set of muscles.
When her body finally stilled, she reflected on what had made her repeatedly bow up when she knew how much it bothered him. She spent a good deal of time considering the matter, as she knew he’d ask her about it tomorrow. It had been a long time since he’d hogtied her as a reminder of how her back should be when he was using her from behind, but she’d learned her lesson and trained her back muscles to stay arched. Had her subconscious mind been testing him, to see if he would add these consequences onto an already long day? Possibly. She didn’t really think so, but it was the only thing she could come up with. There was truly no excuse for doing it so many times. He likely would’ve let it go at one slip-up, or just put her in a thirty minute hogtie. But four times? He pretty much had to do something, especially when she bowed up so much he came out of her.
She caught herself dozing a few times, but it didn’t feel as if she slept more than a few minutes at a stretch. The burn in her ass eventually quieted, which meant it had been ginger oil, but her jaw, shoulders, neck, back, hips, thighs, and knees screamed at the stretch and strain of the enforced position. Aware he was sleeping nearby, she tried to be as quiet as possible, but couldn’t help the involuntary moans that occasionally escaped.
He’d made a point of situating her over the floor drain, and so when she needed to pee, she assumed he’d meant for her to go without waking him. He didn’t intend to untie her before morning, and he’d insisted she drink a lot to rehydrate.
The drain was slightly behind her and between her legs, and the floor must’ve been shaped for drainage, because the pee flowed away from her and down the pipes without soiling her. Still, she felt almost like an animal, having to go while roped and trussed on the floor.
As the night progressed it felt as if the prickly ropes tightened. She tried tensing and releasing her muscles one at a time, working her way from toes to scalp to make sure she was relaxed as possible. She tried tensing everything at once, and then relaxing. Nothing helped, and a few things made it worse. Deep breaths pulled her shoulders and chest more, but shallow breaths made everything hurt.
And so she passed the night in slow agon
y. Slow punishment. And resolved to never bow her back up again.
When he finally came to her, he touched her hair first and lightly ran his hand to her face, to keep from startling her too much. He freed her head and mouth, then her hands from her ankles. He removed the butt plug, and finally released her feet from the rope around her shoulders. Strong but gentle hands held her ankles and lowered them slowly to the floor.
The hard floor felt much better under her now that she was lying flat, but she knew he’d want her up, so she rolled to her side. Thankfully, strong arms helped her sit, as her muscles didn’t want to obey just yet.
She was still without sight or hearing, but she didn’t raise her hands to remove anything. He’d return the use of her senses when he was ready.
After a few seconds, he lifted her again, until she was standing.
He’d made her walk blindfolded before, but never without the ability to hear his voice. Usually, she could hear him assuring her she was safe, that he wouldn’t walk her into anything. Usually, she had vocal instructions to go, stop, or turn.
However, she knew he was big on trust right now. So when the hand at the small of her back urged her forward, she forced her stiff muscles to walk.
Her bare feet felt the temperature difference when she stepped from the stone tile of the bare-bones room to the wood floor of the hallway. She tried to catalogue the turns and straightaways, and when a hand touched her stomach to stop her, she thought they’d made it to the kitchen. However, after a brief pause he urged her forward once again, and when she felt cool air on her skin, realized he was taking her outside.
She smelled the ocean and felt the sea breeze, but couldn’t hear it as she walked across cool concrete a dozen steps. His hand touched her stomach again, she stopped, and he turned her around before gently pushing her backwards into a chair.
Finally, the blindfold came off, then the earmuffs, and the earplugs.
It was still dark outside, and he hadn’t turned on any outside lights. The moon was headed towards the horizon, but still relatively high in the sky, which told her it was probably very early morning. The lights inside the pool were on, and the light from inside the house spilled out, but she was turned away from it when he took the blindfold off.
He stood before her, arms crossed like a drill sergeant, though his voice was kind.
“Tell me what you’ve learned.”
“I’ve been reminded I won’t like the consequences if I bow my back up when you’re using me, Sir.”
“Were you purposefully pushing me to see what would happen?”
She shook her head. “No, Sir. I know I’ve been trained to keep it arched, but there was just so much going on.” She shrugged her shoulders and winced. “I’m not making excuses, Master. It’s been a while since I’ve received consequences for it, and I guess in the back of my mind I hoped you’d be lenient about it, since you were putting me through so much.”
He raised his eyebrows. “Has this ever been the case? That I let you ignore your previous training just because I’m teaching you something new?”
“No Sir. I’m sorry, Master. Thank you for reminding me how important it is to you. For helping me be pleasing to you in the future, Sir.”
She looked down a second, and looked back up to add, “Thanks for giving me a little rest last night, too, Sir. I really needed it. It would’ve been so much harder to have to go straight into the hogtie.”
He stepped to her, leaned down, and kissed her forehead. “You’re very welcome.” He dropped to a squat before her, so she was looking down at him a little. “Now, tell me what happens this morning.”
“Consequences for fighting you, Sir.”
He reached to her ankle and unbuckled the cuff. “And tell me how this is different from your punishment yesterday.”
“Punishment is about absolution, Sir. Consequences are used as a training tool. You’ve forgiven me, and I’m supposed to have forgiven myself. Now it’s time for you to…” She searched her head for a way to word it, and turned her wrist so he could unbuckle the cuff as he reached for it. “Your consequences are almost always a lesson, Master. You’re trying to help me understand, help me not do it again. It’s likely going to hurt, but the pain will be some sort of meaningful lesson. Sir.”
“You said you’re supposed to have forgiven yourself. Does this mean you’re still feeling guilty?”
She nodded. “I feel terrible, Master. I’m so sorry I hurt you. So sorry you’ll be on your guard for a while, and won’t trust me to not strike out. I lost control, and there’s no excuse, Sir.”
“Feeling bad because you lost control is okay, but you need to forgive yourself. You have to know you did wrong before you can strive to not do it again, but I don’t want you to keep beating yourself up.”
“I’m working on it, Sir.” She looked down, unable to meet his gaze as he removed her final cuff. She was totally nude now, without even her bondage paraphernalia.
“Okay. We’ll talk about it again when your consequences are complete. I want to be sure you’re awake and fully alert before we begin, though, so I’d like you to swim. I want to see at least six laps, but you can do as many as twelve if you feel you need more. The first six need to be full speed, any additional laps can be at half speed or faster. I’ll let you stand and stretch before you dive in. You’ll find a sports drink on the table behind you. Drink it first, please.”
The cool water combined with the aerobics of swimming fast did what he’d intended, and she felt fully awake and aware when she climbed the steps of the pool.
“Use the restroom, towel dry your hair, and blow dry it enough to keep it from dripping. I’ll be waiting for you in the workout room. You can have as much water, juice, or sports drink as you want, but don’t dawdle.”
* * * *
Sam came to an abrupt halt before she stepped into the workout room. The enema bag hung from the chin-up bar, and rope and an armbinder were draped across a nearby bench. Two large pitchers of water sat on a small folding table.
He’d given her enemas before, and she wasn’t sure how he was going to turn it into a consequence. The idea both titillated and terrified her, and she took a deep breath and stepped into the room.
“Ah, there you are. Can you get the ginger oil lube from the jailhouse room, please? I left it on the sink, I think.”
“I…Yes. Yes, Sir.”
Oh, god, she thought. Ginger oil to lube that huge nozzle?
But, thinking back, she didn’t recall seeing the black monstrosity on the end of the tubing.
When she stepped into the jailhouse room, her eyes went to the shelf-bed. It looked as if he’d slept in it. She looked into the other room, and the bed looked untouched. Had he lied to her? She was both touched that he’d slept on the hard excuse for a mattress in here, to keep a closer eye on her, and bothered that he’d misled her.
She retrieved the lube and returned to him, eyeing the tube as she walked in. The nozzle looked odd, and it took her several long moments to realize it must be one of those double-balloon nozzles she’d read about. Well, that would certainly help turn this into some sort of consequence.
“Have a seat on the bench, facing the wall, please.”
“Can I ask a question first, please Sir?”
He stopped what he was doing and turned to her, apparently hearing the uncertainty in her voice. “What is it?”
“Last night, you told me you were going to sleep across the hall, but…”
“Ah, and you saw that I’d slept in the room with you.” He stepped to her and pulled her into his embrace. “When I told you I’d be sleeping in the other room, that was my intention. However, once I had you all trussed up, I wanted to be closer to you.” He shrugged. “The extra fifteen feet probably weren’t important, I just didn’t want to be in the other room.”
“Thank you, Sir. For taking care of me, even though I was being punished, and for answering my question.”
“You’re more than welcome.
Now, have a seat on the bench, facing the wall, please.”
He smoothed the leather armbinder over her arms, settled the straps around the front of her shoulders, and fastened the buckles. She tried to keep from whining as he worked the laces closer and closer together, but a gasp of pain escaped without her intention.
“We aren’t as far as we managed yesterday. If this is all you can handle we’ll stop, but I’d hoped to go a little more.”
“I’m sorry, Sir. I want to please you. I know the look you want, and I’m sorry I can’t give it to you yet.”
He tied the laces at the top and turned her around to face him. “Don’t be sorry. You were in a hogtie all night, and I knew we probably wouldn’t make it as far as we did yesterday. While I’d hoped for more than this, I’m not disappointed. We’ll get there.” He kissed the tip of her nose. “I love training you for new things, love pushing you to your limits and watching you thrive and adapt. There’s no room for guilt over this. I’ll teach you to take it.” He smiled and added, “If you could already do everything, I wouldn’t get the fun of training you.”
Sam returned his smile and said, “Thank you, Sir.” Her eyes strayed behind him, and she took in the enema bag, tubing, and odd looking nozzle once again.
Ethan straddled the bench beside her and she shifted to face him, with one leg bent in front of her. She figured she’d eventually get used to her chest poking out so obscenely, but for now, she still felt disconcerted with the forced exhibition.
“I know in your research on enemas, you’ve likely come across the idea of the punishment enema, yes?”
Sam nodded slowly and Ethan continued. “This isn’t punishment, it’s a consequence, but the idea is the same; It won’t be the kind of enema you’re used to. After you told me of your new kink I ordered some extra supplies based on Master James’ suggestions, and had them delivered here. I also emailed him last night to double-check my recipe and intentions for today. I’ve put the juice of three lemons into the water, which will increase the level of cramping. Additionally, the water is a few degrees below your body temperature, which will also make you cramp worse.”
No Safeword: Matte - the Honeymoon Page 9