She gasped at the size, wanting to accept it, but the stretch and burn were an intense reminder of how fat the biggest plug on the side of the pool had been.
She breathed deeply through the snorkel and imagined the tension in her anal muscles dissolving, her inner dialogue repeating I accept as a mantra. She felt his left hand on her leg, holding her in place while his right held the plug, kept pressure without pushing. Suddenly, there was blinding pain as her ass muscles were strained beyond their limit and it plunged all the way in, the same muscles clamping around it, squeezing and trapping. She screamed into the snorkel, biting down on the mouthpiece to keep the seal.
She was stretched wide, the burn intense; but Dana reminded herself she was wearing a large plug because he wanted her filled, and the pain was hers to bear. She squeezed the grips in her hands, concentrated on the sensation of the handles against her palms, reminding herself she was more than her asshole, trying to orient herself—but not doing a great job as she floated in the darkness.
A warm hand grasped her right leg as another moved up her left until it was caressing her outer lips. He pinched them closed and stretched them away from her body. She'd needed anchoring, and this did it, as she held onto the handles in front of her while he pulled her backwards by her pussy.
Before she realized he'd let go, fingers were inside of her, stretching her, pushing, invading. Then nothing. Floating in a dark universe.
Her mind tried to make sense of things for a short time, but starved of input, she eventually became one with the emptiness, a waking dream. She recognized herself, the being she was when not inhabiting a body, but the thought flittered to nothing as she drifted in the void.
Hands on both calves, legs pulled apart. The contact brought her soul slamming back into this dimension, and her body flared to life with a rush of adrenaline.
The shock of sensation between her legs. Pushing. Entering. His cock? Yes.
He fucked her slowly, all the way in and almost all the way out. She knew she wouldn't be allowed to come, so she relaxed and enjoyed while trying not to get any hornier. He maintained the steady rhythm long enough she dropped into a trance—a slow burn inside from both friction and arousal, while the rest of her body was lost in the cool water.
Her consciousness was her pussy and ass, and her mouth around the snorkel—nothing else existed. She couldn't hear, see, or smell. There was only the relentless tempo of his cock sliding inexorably in and out.
Pain. In her ass. He was pulling on the plug—not enough to dislodge it, but to spread her open and get her attention. He relaxed his grip and it slid back in, and she breathed a sigh of relief until she felt his fingers gripping again, pulling. Hard. It came out all at once and she screamed into the snorkel.
Before the scream ended, he pushed again, opening her—holding it motionless at the widest point. She dragged more air into her lungs and bellowed into the snorkel, her volume increasing mid-scream as he shoved it home.
He began moving again—fast and hard this time, his thrusts driving her forward and backward, the rest of her body coming alive as the water caressed her skin. Her hands clasped the handles, and the walls of her pussy gripped his cock.
She needed to come, she was riding the crest of the wave and it wouldn't be long before she slipped over the other side. His hands were on her hips now, and she tried to focus on them instead of her internal muscles. She felt the beginnings of the spasm that would initiate an unstoppable chain reaction as he pushed in and held, shuddering as he filled the condom. She managed to back away from the climax, but wasn't out of the woods yet. He was still buried in her, and her unfulfilled orgasm begged for release.
* * * *
No one was touching her. She assumed Zach was nearby, but couldn't be sure. She pulled her legs together and felt sensation to her sensitive clit, and the orgasm stopped fizzling. She spread them, relieved when the cool water reached between her folds again.
She floated in darkness—her hands resting lightly on the handles, the back of her head touching the Plexiglas, the sound of her breathing echoing through the snorkel, the water caressing her skin. Seconds turned to minutes and she lost track of time. No thoughts, no decisions. A soul floating in the great expanse, the echo of her inhales and exhales the only real feedback she registered, and after a while those became background, too. Background to the nothingness.
A gentle touch to her shoulder dragged her into her body, awareness returning to her brain. He gave her time to reorient, remember where she was, who she was. Another hand settled on her other shoulder, and both hands slid to her upper arms, setting off a trigger in her mind. She released her fingers and he pulled her back, the snorkel staying put, so she had to release it from her mouth.
He left the mask on as he carried her up the steps, out of the pool, carefully placing her on a cushioned lounger in the shade.
"Close your eyes and keep them closed, pet."
It took a moment for the auditory section of her brain to process his words, and she didn't make sense of them until he released the mask and a breeze whispered past her eyelids as bright light pierced through.
A soft fabric blindfold plunged her back into darkness. She could smell and hear once more, but her sight was still denied.
Hands at her pussy. Stroking, caressing, teasing. Fingers on her clit, her lips—everywhere except inside, where she wanted him. She moved her hips, hoping to show him with her movements how desperate she was to come, but he didn't relent.
She was arched up, wantonly moving her ass, begging for release with her motions, when he grasped the plug and pulled it out in one quick motion.
"Fuck!"
Without warning, he struck her five times, the flat of his hand making contact from the base of her pussy to her clit with each strike. When he stopped he quietly said, “No words, pet."
Soft music, with no discernible beat threatened to lull her to sleep as oiled hands touched her feet and a gentle breeze blew over her body, the scent of vanilla tickling her senses.
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Chapter Eight
* * * *
Dana awoke to light filtering through pale chiffon, and thought she'd awakened into a dream. As her memories came flooding back she recognized the huge bed in Zach's playroom, with the curtains pulled around it, blocking the view of the equipment.
She wasn't blindfolded, and was completely dry—even her hair. She didn't move for a while, luxuriating in the dreamy feel of her surroundings, totally relaxed, though a little sore from the lengthy fucking in the pool.
A note, written in large letters, was pinned to the inside of the draped fabric. Ring the bell and get onto the piece of equipment you want to be fucked on next. Wait for me there.
Familiar with his playroom, she made a quick walkthrough in her head. He hadn't given a hint of whether she'd be permitted to orgasm this time, nor of how long she might have to wait for him. The gyno table, flat on her back, would be the best if she'd be there awhile, and if she wouldn't be allowed to come. But if she didn't have to wait, and he'd let her orgasm, she'd much prefer to be bent over one of the spanking benches and fucked from behind.
She decided on the gyno table, though she used the restroom before climbing on and placing her heels in the stirrups. She wasn't there long, open and exposed, before he entered the room.
He spoke crisply, without raising his voice. “Was there anything on the note about using the restroom before following instructions?"
Not sure if she was allowed speech, she shook her head no, but felt the need to call a time out —she hadn't agreed to bathroom restrictions.
"Ottoman. Can I talk, please?"
"Of course. Sit up, if you'd like."
Realizing he had a point, she pulled her legs out of the stirrups and sat, looking at him from closer to eye level.
"I needed to go, you weren't around. We haven't discussed bathroom restrictions, and when I first wake up I almost always have to go right away."
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He relaxed his shoulders and exhaled with a sigh. “You're right; we haven't—and that's an oversight we'll need to fix—but for now I'd prefer you wait for permission. Until we can negotiate, I won't say no, but you understand why you can't just get up and walk away during a scene, right?"
She nodded, as she had no problems making the request, as long as he was there to ask. She wanted clarification, though.
"I can ask permission even when there are speech restrictions?"
"Do you know the sign language for toilet?” He bent his arm and made a fist near his shoulder, rotating it from left to right as he asked the question. She repeated it and he showed his hand, with his thumb between his first two fingers. She did it again and he nodded.
"If you're restrained then politely ask to use the restroom. If your hands are free then make sure I'm looking and sign your request. We'll work on please later. Does that work?"
"Yes, and if you aren't around and I need to go, I will."
He was quiet a lengthy couple of seconds before saying, “If you believe I'll return in the next few minutes and can wait, I'd prefer you hold it until permission can be obtained. You had no way of knowing how long you'd be there until I came, so I'll agree it was okay under the circumstances. I'll try to remember to give authorization when you awaken in the future."
He ran his hands through his hair. “You've been caged for extended periods, how did you handle this while put away?"
Dana's face flamed red and she dropped her eyes to her feet. “I... I don't want to talk about it, now. Please."
His finger touched her chin, a gentle request to look at him. Instead of tilting her head, she leaned forward and buried her face in his chest. He'd put jeans and a tee shirt on, and she clung to him, the cotton against her cheek.
His voice rumbled through his chest. “If we make it to the cage, and I believe you're hoping we do, I'll find a way to keep you there on my schedule, not yours. Bodily functions are perfectly normal, and you'll have to learn not to be embarrassed about any part of your body around me. I've given you privacy so far, but you have to know that won't last forever, right?"
She nodded, glad he wasn't insisting she tell him her husband had made her pee in a diaper, and for extended periods had sometimes catheterized her. He'd give her a series of enemas and insert a catheter, and she wouldn't need a bathroom for days.
Zach held her a few more moments before saying, “If there isn't anything else, it's time to lay back. Speech restrictions aren't as tight this afternoon. You may speak if asked a question, and you'll answer openly, honestly, and respectfully."
He tilted her chin and moved his face closer to hers, his blue eyes meeting hers with an intensity that stole her breath. “I didn't say you'll tell the truth, as it's possible to tell the truth without being honest. I insist upon total honesty, which means no omission of information you think, or even suspect, I should have. Are you ready to lay back?"
Dana closed her eyes, leaned back, and returned her legs to the stirrups. Zach walked to her side and stroked her cheek. “What made you choose this table, pet?"
Remembering his requirement of total honestly, she said, “I didn't know how long I'd have to wait, or if I'd be allowed an orgasm. I almost lost control in the pool; it was very close. My self-restraint will be better on this than on the other equipment, plus it's probably the most comfortable, in case I had to wait awhile."
He didn't speak, and his face changed from kind to displeased. She quickly added, “Sir."
His eyes relaxed and he smiled. “I appreciate that you chose based on trying to please me. If you knew you'd be allowed to come, perhaps multiple times, which would you've chosen?"
"One of the spanking benches, Sir."
"You like being taken from behind?"
"I... yes. Yes, Sir."
"I'm pleased with your honesty. You won't be coming for a while yet, so we'll keep you here for now. If you do well, I'll move you to a spanking bench."
"Thank you, Sir."
"You're welcome, but you weren't asked a question. This is your first and only warning—do it again and I'll put a clover clamp on your tongue for five minutes. One of the no-safeword punishments we agreed to is ten strokes of a flogger to the inside of your thighs. Correct?"
Dana's insides ignited at the threat of punishment. She drew in a shaky breath and said, “Yes, Sir."
"If you come, that'll be the punishment. Don't bother asking permission, the answer will be no and you'll just find yourself in trouble for speaking."
Dana nodded, not daring to speak again without hearing an obvious question.
"Do you understand why orgasm control is important?"
"I think maybe, but can I hear it from you, please, Sir?"
"It's partly so I can time things for a simultaneous ending, but also as another means of control. Just as you were denied all speech this morning, and have restrictions on it this evening, being required permission to orgasm is a significant marker of your status when we're in a scene. A basic right others have, that I've taken from you."
He stroked her cheek. “Eventually, I should be able to stimulate you in any way I choose, and you'll refrain from coming; however, I'll help you a little as you're learning, try to back off and give you some breathing space if I realize you're close, but the ultimate responsibility is yours. I don't expect you to get it right every time in the beginning, it'll take a while to learn total control. I'll give you the incentive to figure it out quickly by providing consequences."
Zach moved a small cart near the bottom of the gyno table before walking to the large armoire. He opened several drawers, but she couldn't tell what he was pulling from them. Knowing she'd find out soon enough, she rested her head on the cushioned table, closed her eyes, and stopped trying to see what was coming.
Closing her eyes brought her awareness to her pussy—spread open and vulnerable. She heard his steps nearing, the sounds of him arranging items on the cart, but kept her eyes shut, resigned to the fact she'd find out in due time.
The stirrups were spread wider, exposing her even more. Her heart jumped in her chest when he flipped the bottom side of one of the stirrups up and over the top, snapping it in place, creating a tunnel around her calf and ankle, trapping her leg. He did the same to the other before pulling her torso so her ass was dangling obscenely a few inches off the end of the table. Opening her eyes, she saw him hook a wide strap to a side anchor. “Hands over your head a moment, please."
She did as instructed and he ran the leather over her rib cage, just below her breasts, attaching it to a hook on the other side. She expected him to snug it down, but he ran a finger between her skin and the strap, saying, “Lower your arms and take a deep breath, so we can be sure it won't interfere with your breathing."
She did as he asked and he nodded before stretching a wide strap over her hipbones, making a point to tighten this one several times, until he was sure there was no give. She was so horny, why had she thought she could control orgasms better in this position?
He walked between her legs and gently opened her lips, inspecting her, looking up briefly to say, “Remember, no words,” before dipping his head, his tongue proceeding straight for her clit.
Zach kept his tongue outside, teasing her for eons before finally licking inside of her. He relentlessly sustained her levels of arousal until she thought she'd explode—he helped a few times, backing off seconds before she reached the point of no return, but then he'd dive back in. Occasionally, he'd stimulate clit, pussy, and ass simultaneously, and would praise her successes when he saw her fighting to resist. She had to concentrate to keep from saying words at first, but after a while found a rhythm of making oh and ah noises.
With her hips held immobile, and her legs trapped in the stirrups, opened wide with no way to close them, she had to take whatever he gave her. He must have kept her right on the edge for half an hour when he stuck a lubed finger in her ass again, while his lips were sealed around her clit,
and several fingers of his other hand were already in her pussy. The orgasm came out of nowhere and shattered over her, drowning her in its intensity. She heard herself screaming, but only as the climax began to fade did she realize she was lamenting, “I'm sorry,” repeatedly.
As her breathing fought to normalize, her eyes wide as she looked at him, he slowly withdrew his fingers and reached for a baby wipe, taking a moment to clean himself before walking to her side.
Eyes kind but stern, he touched her cheek softly with the back of his fingers. “I know you're sorry, but those were words coming from your lips, and you weren't asked a question.” One corner of his mouth tilted up, ever so slightly. “However, considering the words were to express your regret, and since you screamed them through the entire climax, I'm inclined to make the punishment for speaking a touch less harsh. The speech and orgasm were a joint lapse, so we'll tie the consequences together."
He returned to the armoire and strode back with a short leather flogger and something hidden in his fist. Tossing the flogger on the cart, he reached for her right nipple, already sore from the clamps and leash this morning. His fingers rolled, squeezed, and deftly clamped it, the pain sharp and overpowering as he moved his attention to her left nipple, quickly giving it the same treatment. She looked down and spotted a third clover clamp, a chain running in a Y between the three of them.
Looking up, gasping in pain, she saw compassion in his eyes as he said, “They'll be on for as long as it takes to give your punishment strokes. You won't have to bear it five minutes. You broke two rules at once and this is a fitting consequence. Offer your tongue to be disciplined, pet."
He looked into her eyes, waiting for her to acquiesce, and she didn't make him wait long—her fear and dread igniting into an enormous glowing orb of lust as she stuck her tongue out. It wouldn't do for her to come while being punished, but she was very close to another orgasm.
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