Well, damn. He was right about her wanting feedback, of course. Sometimes it was awesome how he knew her so well, but at times like this it was downright annoying.
She swallowed, took a breath, let it out, and finally said, “I honestly hadn’t realized I was subverting your authority by convincing myself I wanted to do what you were requesting. The constantly changing eye contact thing today has really made me confront how it feels to be forced to follow rules.”
She ate in silence several minutes, considering, and finally added, “I asked you to add a psychological element, and I had a feeling I wouldn’t like whatever you chose, but…”
He didn’t insist she finish her sentence, didn’t sigh impatiently. He gave her time to put her thoughts together, and she loved him for it. “Thank you, Sir, for forcing me to accept you as my Master. Part of me feels I should also apologize, for not being able to give it willingly, and for asking you to fight me for it, except I think you understand me, and I think my strength is one of the things you love about me.”
“I accept and appreciate your apology,” he said. Sam wanted to look up and see his face in the worst way, but she kept her eyes on the floor as he continued. “Your strength is certainly one of the things I love about you, but I haven’t made it a secret that I’d like to see you choose to submit, even when it’s hard. However, you’re supposed to be telling me how you feel right now.”
“I’m choosing to submit now, Sir. I know there are times you tell me there won’t be a punishment if I don’t submit, and I know it’s because you need my willing surrender, sometimes.” She sighed. “There are times I feel unworthy and selfish for needing to know you’ll enforce the rules and make me submit, even when I don’t want to. I’m not sure how to reconcile your need to see me willingly submit with my need to know you’ll make me, if I don’t.”
She heard the chair push back and looked up enough to watch his feet walk towards her. He stood a foot away from her bowls for several long moments, and on a whim she kissed the bondage tape covering her left hand, and reached out to touch his foot.
He squatted before her, touched her chin with one finger, and said, “Eye contact for a few minutes, Darlin’.”
The instant their gazes met, her eyes began to water and she wanted to cry because his love and affection for her were so obvious.
“Never feel unworthy, Samantha. I knew from the beginning I’d have to earn your submission. It’s true there are times I need to see you give it willingly, but if I didn’t want to enforce the rules then I wouldn’t create them in the first place. Your submission to me is a gift, and we both know you can take it back any time you have access to a pen and paper. No matter how much you defy me or challenge me, you’re still choosing to give me the power to punish you for it.”
Great, now that she had permission to look at him, she wanted nothing more than to look away. “Master, you know I don’t like the idea of having so much control.”
He nodded. “I do, and we’ve taken some of it away by removing the option to withdraw consent during a scene. At some point in the future we might change it so you can only withdraw your consent in writing on the first day of every month, but I’m not ready to go there just yet.”
Sam’s heart skipped several beats at the prospect of only having an exit plan available twelve days a year. Yes, she very much wanted to make it to the next step.
He smiled. “Not yet, and probably not anytime soon. Perhaps it can be part of your second wedding anniversary gift?”
She returned his smile and nodded. “Thank you, Sir, for understanding so well what I need.” She sighed. “I still have to explain to you how eating this way makes me feel, don’t I?”
“Yes.” He nodded and kissed her forehead. “No restrictions on eye contact for a little while. Look where you want.”
He walked back to his chair and Sam said, “I don’t feel humiliated or degraded. I guess I feel as if I’ve been shown my place, a little? But, it needed to be done. What we do is as much mental as physical, and it could be argued the physical parts are only there to enforce the mental bits. Pain, bondage, being fucked in any hole whenever it pleases you without regards to my feelings — these are all used to impress upon me…to prove to both of us how much I belong to you.”
She looked at him, awkwardly moved one shoulder in an attempt to shrug, and added, “Part of me loves it when you force me to submit. I love the caveman in you, though I’m grateful he stays away when I’m truly sick, as I’m not sure how I’d react to him on those days.”
He smiled, put his fork on his plate, and leaned back in his chair. “So, you like my forcing you to eat this way?”
She shook her head. “It isn’t so much that I like the activity, as it is I’m reassured of our relationship when you go all caveman.”
He turned sideways in the chair so he faced her without needing to turn his head. “You said you don’t feel humiliated or degraded. Would you say you feel reassured? Give me three single verbs that describe how you feel.”
Sam swallowed her last bite of veggies and realized she’d eaten all the steak she wanted. She took a drink and sat up with her ass on her heels, knees spread, and arms behind her back.
“Subjugated, or maybe subdued? Conquered? I’m not sure which describes it best.”
He chuckled. “I’ll count those three as one, since they mean basically the same thing.”
She didn’t argue, as she knew he was right. Other Doms had let her get away with that sort of thing, but Ethan saw through her verbal wrangling and held her to the spirit of his requests.
“Reassured is probably as close as I can come to describing the comfort I derive from knowing you can handle me, from being shown I can’t outmuscle or outsmart you to get my way.”
She was trying to decide how to combine her feelings into one word when he said, “I asked for three. Can you only come up with two?”
“No, Sir, I have four, and I’m trying to decide how to combine the next two into one.”
He smiled. “No problem. You have permission to give me four.”
“I feel understood. You realized I was subverting your authority when I didn’t even know I was doing it.”
His eyebrow lifted and he grinned affectionately. “And the last?”
“I feel loved, Master.”
He stood and walked to her. “Give me your right hand, Samantha.”
She kept her left hand behind her back, and raised her right towards him. He pulled the bondage tape off as he spoke. “Remember those feelings, because there will be times in the future you’ll be angry with me for insisting you eat from a bowl on the floor. Submitting isn’t always easy, and I expected at least one word telling me you were angry or upset with me.”
“Not today, Sir. It wasn’t easy, and I was frustrated and annoyed a few times, but never angry.”
He finished with her right hand, retrieved her bowls from the floor and his plate from the island, and stepped to the sink. “Take the tape off your left hand while I get the cane.”
She took her three strikes in the kitchen, bent over with her arms straight, back arched, and fingertips on the counter, with nothing to support her body. When it was over, he made her stay in position while he washed and dried the dishes.
He allowed her to move her feet and straighten her back a few times as she dealt with the pain, but then said, “I know it hurts, but I’d like you to spread your legs, arch your back, stick your ass out, and hold the pose without all of the fidgeting, please.”
When the last dish was put away, he finally stepped to her and pulled her into his arms. It hadn’t taken him more than four or five minutes to do the dishes, but it’d seemed like forever.
“Punishment’s over, Darlin’.”
“Thank you, Sir.”
He chuckled as he rubbed her back. “Are you thanking me for punishing you, or because it’s over and I’m holding you?”
She snuggled into his warmth a little more and said, “Both,
Sir, but probably more the second part than the first.”
His hand caressed from her shoulder to her ass, and rubbed over the welts he’d just left. “We’re about to start something a little more intense, and because I had to punish you, there’ll be no orgasms for you until we’re just about finished later tonight, so don’t bother asking permission. I’ll let you know when you can.”
Sam had worried he might not let her find release at all, so to be told she’d get one at the end, at least, was a relief. “Thank you, Master.”
“You’re welcome. I think the last night of the out-of-town portion of our honeymoon qualifies as a special occasion.” He released her and stepped away. “Drink some more water if you’d like, and then use the restroom. Your hair is holding up pretty good, so leave it. I’ll meet you in the great room.”
When she made it to the great room, Ethan wrapped her softest leather cuffs around her wrists and ankles, and directed her to the center of the room under a metal bar he’d hung from the support beam. He ran a rope from her right cuff, through the right end of the bar, to the other end of the bar, and then to her left cuff. She liked the control of being able to hold onto the bar, though she didn’t have to, if she chose not to.
Ethan adjusted the rope until she was forced onto her tiptoes, and she gripped the cool metal to keep her balance.
“I’m giving you what you asked for, Samantha, but not in the way you probably expected. When I finish you’ll be red from shoulders to mid-thigh; front, back, and sides; and both of us will have very tired arms.”
Sam’s body jolted forward and her hips twisted sideways as the rubber strands of the flogger impacted. Hard.
“Mmmmm.” His deep voice was so damned sexy. “That’s what I’m talking about. I’m going to use the way your body moves to make you turn and twist. I don’t intend to walk around you too much tonight, but to turn you with the flogger now, and the whip later.”
Her left ass cheek ignited in pain, and when her hips twisted away from the cruel flogger, he struck the front of her right thigh. A scream escaped and Sam suddenly realized this would be a very long night.
“I see you understand this part, so let’s go over a few more items. Give me a chin-up with a two second hold, followed by a pull-up with a five second hold.”
Suddenly, the bar made sense. When she’d followed instructions and finally let herself down for the second time, he said, “Okay, five pull-ups. Each should last a slow count of five up, and a slow count of five down. Make them smooth.”
These were super-slow pull-ups, but he knew she was capable or he wouldn’t have ordered them.
The flogger caught her by surprise as she started the second, and she dropped to her toes. “Oh, too bad. You’ll need to start over with the first.”
Sam took a breath, gathered her control, and began the slow climb as she counted to five slowly in her head. Ethan gave her ten strikes on the way up and ten on the way down, and she realized he was helping with her rhythm. She changed her counting to a silent: and one, and two, and three…
“Very nice,” he complimented when she’d finished all five. “You can stay on your toes for a bit, but there’s one last thing to go over. Your version of yellow tonight is a pull-up when I haven’t told you to. As long as you’re more than halfway up, I’ll either reduce the strength behind the each strike, or move to a less sensitive spot. My choice.”
He landed a half-dozen hard strikes on her upper back and paused to say, “When I’ve ordered you to do a pull-up, you can express a desire to say yellow by spreading your legs into the splits.”
Another round of hard hits, this time to the backs of her thighs. “I may choose to give you a great deal of relief, or a tiny reprieve. If you want more of a respite than I’m giving, I’d advise coming up with something pleasing to do with your body instead of complaining verbally.”
The flogger rained down on her right shoulder until she tried to spin away. He caught her right breast twice before she turned away again, and he repeated the same thing on her left side.
The flogger stopped. “It may feel as if you’re in control, but don’t doubt for a second that you’re dancing exactly where I want you. Sometimes I insist you stand still, but I won’t ask it of you today.”
Ethan worked her from shoulders to mid-thigh, and managed to land around a quarter of the strikes on her front as she stepped and jerked in circles on her tiptoes. She hadn’t understood the significance of a single line running to the center of the bar over her head, but it allowed her to twist and gyrate without hindrance.
He occasionally focused on her breasts, and kept her facing him with hard, punishing strikes to the sensitive skin under her arms when she tried to twist away. Sam strained to pull herself up to the bar, and he kept the flogger on her stomach, the front of thighs, and all the parts in between — though thankfully he didn’t insist she spread her legs. Eventually, she had to let herself back down, and he once again had her screaming with each strike to her sensitive breasts.
He maneuvered her around until she faced the wall of windows as the clouds broke just enough to give a brilliant sunset, but he didn’t relent with the flogger.
When the colors finally faded and the sky went dark, Ethan used the three-tailed whip to persuade her to turn towards him. They’d been at this for well over an hour at this point, and she felt every strand of the leather on already inflamed skin.
Sam had strained to pull herself up while she had the strength, but had given up trying to gain relief, and now only pulled herself up when ordered. She floated through the pain and bliss, until she couldn’t tell which was which.
When Ethan said, “I’m going to give you a series of commands, and I want you to follow them carefully,” she had to swim up from her deep headspace to parse his words.
He waited for her to nod her understanding before he gave the first order.
“Pull your knees to your chest and keep them there.”
She tightened her grip on the bar over her head, and bent her knees. So far, Ethan had given more or less pain based on her grace and fluidity, so she pointed her toes and tried to emulate a dancer.
“Very nice. Now, keep your knees up, and straighten your legs until your toes touch the bar, please.”
She brought her toes to the bar with her legs together, but quickly realized she could hold the position longer with her legs spread, so she let her toes trail along the bar until her feet were at the edges and her legs made a V.
“Beautiful. Okay, push your legs up and loop your knees over the bar.”
He released her wrist cuffs from the bar and had her reach towards the floor, and then grab the bar from the other direction, so her back arched sharply backwards. Sam groaned when he reattached her wrist cuffs in this new, awkward position, but he only patted her exposed pussy, which she was certain was now on full display.
He stepped to her front, so she could no longer see him, and said, “Hands and knees stay put, Samantha. I have easy access to flog and whip your pussy, stomach, and breasts, and I intend to do so.”
There was no way she could fall on her head with her cuffs secured to the bar, but still, she hung on for dear life as she hung upside down and swung out of control with each impact. The whip was relentless, and Sam jerked and screamed and begged him to please have mercy.
Again and again, the strands found the sensitive flesh between her pussy lips, and often wrapped around to her ass. He switched to a shorter flogger with more falls and whaled on her inner thighs for a while, and then moved to one of the rubber floggers and alternated striking her pussy and breasts at random.
Sam closed her eyes and let the sensations pull her under. She was no longer suspended, but afloat on a cloud of sensations. The flogger stung and caressed, thrashed and embraced, bruised and nurtured, striped and kissed. Pain and pleasure. Pleasure and pain. Samantha had long ago lost track of which was which, and she lost herself in bliss.
When at last he tired of flogging her i
n this position, he helped move her feet back to the floor so she was once again standing on her tiptoes with her arms stretched over her head. She was both relieved and saddened to be upright again.
He pulled out the double-tailed, knotted whip, and stood in front of her a few seconds before saying, “We’re almost through here, Darlin’. I know your arms and legs are tired, just endure this last bit for me and I’ll get you down.”
Still deep into subspace, Sam welcomed this whip and the pain it would bring. She felt the kick of adrenaline, recognized an edge of fear, but wanted to take whatever he bestowed on her.
“I’ll endure whatever you give me, Master.”
“Of course you will, you have no choice.” He leaned in, his mouth near her ear, and spoke in his super-deep, low, gravelly voice, “You know this is gonna be rough. I’m quite enjoying the sound of your screams.”
His fingers caressed the side of her throat, and he kissed the back of her neck. Sam’s skin turned to gooseflesh, and she let her head fall forward as a blissful groan escaped her lips.
The soundtrack so far had been floaty, ethereal music, but now he switched it to discordant heavy metal, and thrashed her to a drumbeat Samantha could never find. The whipping seemed to last forever, but Sam was pretty sure it was only two songs. Her screams just added to the keening, grating screeches and shrieks in the music, and when he finally stopped and shut the sound off, Sam could only hang limp from the bar and try to catch her breath.
It hadn’t been the harmonious, floating ecstasy of earlier, it’d been gritty and cruel and rough, but was the perfect ending to a perfect day. A perfect honeymoon.
Though Sam hoped it wasn’t really the end. She’d die if she couldn’t come soon.
Ethan cut through the rope holding her wrists to the bar, lifted her into his arms, and deftly carried her to the master bedroom. He stopped inside the doorway, leaned to kiss her forehead, and asked if she needed to use the restroom. He’d given her sips of their homemade sports drink throughout the evening, but she didn’t think she needed to go. She couldn’t manage her voice, so she only shook her head.
No Safeword: Matte - the Honeymoon Page 16