No Safeword: Matte - Happily Ever After (Safewords)
Page 29
Arguing would only make it worse, so she said, “Of course, Master.”
Still determined to not give him the satisfaction of hearing her, she sealed her lips and breathed through the biting pain.
Ethan put his mouth to her ear and said, “Work with me and there’ll be a reward, keep fighting me and there’ll be a punishment. Sometimes being owned sexually is a bitch. Show me you want to belong to me always, not just when it’s convenient.”
Sam took a deep breath and let it out as she absorbed his words. It always seemed to come back to this — she didn’t want to have to submit right now, but if he’d backed off she’d have been disillusioned the next day.
She closed her eyes, lifted her face towards his, and opened them slowly. “I’m yours, always. Even when I don’t really want to be reminded of it. Thank you for your patience; I’ll try to do better.”
He kissed her forehead, caressed her cheek, and walked behind her.
She let him hear her noises as he tightened the laces this time. She didn’t beg him to stop, but she moaned, yelped, and even whined a few times.
“Stand with your back against the wall, please.”
When she was in position he flogged her breasts a while, just to the point she needed to scream without actually pulling one out of her, and then leaned her forward over their bed.
His cock pressed into her pussy and she breathed a sigh of relief, but then whined in protest as she felt him lubing her ass several long moments later.
As she was on the verge of an orgasm he came out of one hole and pressed into the other without slowing, and it was all she could do to keep from climbing onto the bed to try to escape.
She whined in protest but he only said, ‘Do you really think you deserve an orgasm tonight?”
Surprisingly, when he finished in her ass he loosened the laces, stood her up, and took the hated device off.
He pulled her into his arms and said, “You worked with me at the end, and it’s been a long time since you showered without your arms behind your back. Go on in and enjoy the water. I’ll be there in a minute.”
Sam set one of the showerheads to pound her neck and shoulders, and groaned in bliss as she leaned against the wall.
When Ethan joined her he pulled her to him and asked, “What do you want, Darlin’?”
“I’m assuming an orgasm is out since you had to punish me, so I just want to cuddle and be held, Sir. Please?”
They washed each other, and Ethan massaged her sore back and shoulders, as well as her pecs. He no longer treated her scarred area different from the rest of her, and she luxuriated in his touch over all of her body.
When he finally took her to bed he massaged her legs and ass, and then held her until she fell asleep.
Chapter Twenty-Seven
One Saturday morning Sam stumbled downstairs to discover her kitchen full of shirtless men. Jerrod and Ethan were both quite large, and while Miguel was closer to her size, his muscles looked as if they’d been chiseled from granite.
All three had abs worthy of a magazine cover.
She hadn’t considered their two guests as anything other than her coaches, but with the trio in shorts and no shirt, relaxed and cutting up with one another, it struck her how it must look to an outsider with her living with these three men.
Jerrod was frying bacon, Ethan was flipping pancakes, and Miguel was cutting a cantaloupe into squares. They seemed to have the food in hand so she pulled glasses and plates down as she said, “With a huge breakfast, I assume we aren’t in for mega-training this morning. Not that I’m complaining.”
She poured everyone’s drinks, and marveled how she knew what they’d want without asking.
“You aren’t getting the day off,” Jerrod said, “but Miguel and I decided you and Ethan need a little break. We’ll swim and hang out this morning while discussing strategy, and then get back into mega-training this afternoon.”
He emphasized her made-up phrase, but she ignored him and looked to Miguel, who smiled sadistically. “I’m not in total agreement with Jerrod about the break, so you’ll be doing freestyle sprints in the pool instead of on your feet, so don’t think you’re getting off the hook completely.”
Ethan laughed and she rolled her eyes and grumbled, “Damned closet sadist.”
Calling Miguel a sadist made her think of Tara, which reminded her, “Oh, I have a friend coming over this evening.” She gave Miguel her fiercest look. “If you say anything to hurt her feelings, I’ll hurt more than your feelings.”
Miguel looked confused and Ethan patted him on the back. “Her name is Tara, and you might not figure it out for a while, if at all, but she’s transitioning from male to female and Sam’s pretty protective of her.”
Miguel turned back to his cantaloupe. “Might be better for me to either stay in my room or just leave for a while, then.”
Same felt the hackles on the back of her neck rise.
“You can’t be in the same room with a transsexual?”
He didn’t turn to look at her, kept cutting, and Sam went through what she knew of him in her head.
A few things clicked and she said, “Wow. I don’t know why I didn’t see it earlier.”
Ethan turned to look at her in question and she shook her head at him. “I think this might be something between athlete and coach. Miguel and I are going to step outside a minute.”
Miguel turned and walked out to the pool without looking at anyone, and Sam followed.
“You’re gay, and don’t want anyone to know.”
He shook his head, but didn’t look at her.
“Bi?” she asked.
He didn’t respond and she added, “You don’t want to be around Tara because you’re worried whatever mythical gaydar ya’ll are supposed to have will go off, and you’re afraid she’ll out you.”
He still didn’t say anything, his eyes focused on the ornate concrete under their feet.
“Fine,” Sam said, “don’t talk to me. I’ll tell Tara not to say anything if she thinks you are. Okay? She has her own secrets, she won’t give yours away if she knows you don’t want it known.”
“And you?” he finally spoke.
“Ethan and I don’t have secrets, but he’ll keep his mouth shut and so will I.”
“But, you said…”
“Yeah, that was for Jerrod’s sake. If he thinks Ethan doesn’t know, he won’t pressure Ethan to tell him.”
Miguel finally looked at her. “You really won’t tell anyone? And you’re sure Ethan won’t…you know…”
Sam laughed. “Ethan and I have our own secrets. He won’t tell a soul, and he won’t think less of you. I promise.”
“No one in the fight scene knows. With all of the grappling and wrestling, straight guys just wouldn’t…” He shrugged.
“Yeah, I get it.”
Miguel’s eyes took on a mischievous glint and he asked, “What are your secrets? They wouldn’t have anything to do with the locked room downstairs, would they?”
“What is it with our stupid storage room?”
His eyebrows rose. “According to Jerrod, the two of you used to occasionally go in and stay the night. I’m guessing it’s a playroom but I haven’t shared my suspicions with Jerrod. Somehow, I don’t think he’d get it.”
“And you would?”
His smile told her he would, but she wasn’t comfortable enough with him to admit to anything, so she turned toward the house and said, “The cantaloupe isn’t going to cut itself.”
* * * *
The morning passed quickly, and even though Miguel occasionally made her swim freestyle laps, for the most part it was a relaxing respite.
When Jerrod decreed it was time for some fight practice, Miguel said, “No need to go downstairs, the grass should be soft enough for our purposes today.”
He and Jerrod stayed on their floats in the pool as they directed Sam and Ethan through repetitive exercises and then had them do specific takedowns on each other.
Jerrod and Miguel glanced at each other, but neither said anything. Ethan headed towards the house. “We have an hour and a half until Tara and Kirsten arrive, so it’s too early to put the steaks on the grill. Sam, do you want a protein drink, or something else?”
“I’d like a margarita with tons of salt on the rim. I’ll come in with you.”
They waited until they reached the kitchen to hug and laugh.
“That worked perfect!” Sam said. “Were you getting tired too? Or did I cut it short for you?”
“I was more hot than tired, but I really am hungry.”
* * * *
Sam was in the kitchen mixing the homemade ice cream ingredients when her friends arrived. The men were outside and it was nice for the girls to have a chance to talk without them a little.
“Girl, what is with this bathing suit?” Tara said, “You should be wearing something sexy, not this…” She waved at it, looking for words. “Unless you’re training for the Olympics and need to make sure it stays in place during a ten meter dive? You’re much too covered.”
“You aren’t far off.” Sam smiled. “Our coaches have had us in the yard practicing takedowns while they lounged in the pool.” She shook her head. “Besides, with two male coaches living here I’m trying not to be extra sexy.”
Kirsten laughed and asked, “How is it working out? Any problems?”
“Surprisingly — other than some small adjustments here and there — it isn’t too bad. Ethan and I are pretty much focused on training every waking minute we aren’t at work, so having them here helps. I can’t run around the house naked, and he can’t bend me over the kitchen table anytime he wants…but it’s temporary, so we can live with it.”
She looked towards the hallway and smiled. “Ethan put motion sensors in the hallway, so we’ll know if someone is right outside our door. A light blinks on and off when the door’s closed and there’s movement outside. We still have to be relatively quiet, but we can have sex in the bedroom without worrying there’s someone outside listening to me call him Master.”
They chatted and cut up until Ethan came in to check on her. “Oh, I didn’t realize ya’ll were here already.” He hugged Kirsten, then Tara, and looked at Sam. “You need me to carry anything out? We’ll be ready to eat in a few minutes.”
“If you can get the ice cream maker, we’ll get the drinks.”
Dinner was relaxed and enjoyable, and everyone behaved. She’d talked to Tara about Miguel on the phone earlier, but couldn’t tell from the conversation if either had an opinion about the other.
Tara was a good bit taller than Miguel with her shoes on, but when she slid them off as everyone prepared to swim, she was only about an inch taller. Miguel’s stats listed him at five foot seven and one hundred and thirty-two pounds when he fought, but Sam figured he was probably around fifteen pounds heavier these days. Not fat, or even pudgy, just stockier than his fighting weight — less wiry.
Sam had been hesitant about asking Tara over to swim, as she wasn’t sure how she’d manage to hide her extra parts, but Tara had assured her it wouldn’t be a problem. She’d worn a loose dress over her bathing suit, and when she took it off Sam couldn’t help but look.
Amazingly, Tara’s bathing suit was completely flat, with no sign of anything extra. And her bikini was, well…sexy was an understatement. Not slutty, but it was incredibly revealing in a classy way, which Sam knew took a good bit of skill.
The men took everything in the house, and Sam told Tara, “Well, now I understand why you thought I had too much bathing suit. You could make four of yours from the fabric in mine.”
Tara held one hand up, put her other on her hip, and twirled in a circle with a laugh, but then said, “I was expecting to see someone else the size of Ethan, or perhaps even Jerrod, but Miguel is almost tiny next to them.”
“He fought in the weight class I’ll be fighting, so he knows what I’ll need to do to win. And, he’s not so small against normal sized men, but… yeah, around Jerrod and Ethan almost everyone looks small.”
“I’ve seen some articles out about you fighting a man,” Kirsten said. “You’re stirring up quite the controversy.”
“No kidding. I wasn’t prepared for some of the anger directed at me. I’m thick skinned, but…damn.”
“I think there’s even more directed at Clemente,” Kirsten replied. “He wasn’t well liked to start with, but the idea of him striking a woman seems to have ignited a lot of wrath.”
“Dave said they thought this would fly because there hasn’t been an outcry against the sparring videos between Ethan and I, but I don’t think they considered the fact we usually hug and sometimes kiss afterwards. Also, he never strikes me with his fist, hand, or foot.”
“You sure you’re up to it?” Kirsten asked, “I mean, I know you’ll handle him in the cage, but I worry about the other backlash.”
“I’ve signed the contract, hard to get out of it now that the promo’s started.”
“Would you want to?” This from Tara.
Sam shrugged. “I haven’t thought it through, since it isn’t really an option. Anyone want another Margarita?”
They’d set up a small bar area outside, and Sam climbed the pool steps and made three more.
* * * *
A few days later, while they were all in the workout room together, Jerrod asked, “Tara kept tabs on you after you were shot, and she helped keep an eye on Ethan after his long day of fighting, right?”
Sam was working the wooden dummy and she didn’t stop to answer. “Yeah. Why?”
“Jameson works for Dave. He only has one doctor on the payroll, and we’ve been considering offering to fly Tara out in case both of you need medical attention at the same time.”
Miguel jumped in with, “She knows both of you; knows how to work with you. Also, since she specializes in accidents over illnesses, she’s more familiar with broken bones, smashed fingers and toes, and mending cuts with or without stitches. She’s capable of just about everything we’d need from a ringside doctor.” He shrugged. “An NP has to work under an MD, which isn’t a problem since we have Jameson.”
“Are you sure it’s a good idea? A transsexual at a fighting event?”
“I don’t think anyone’s gonna figure it out.” Miguel said. “Hell, you told me ahead of time and I’m not sure I’d have known for sure even with her in a skimpy damned bathing suit.”
Sam finally stopped and turned to the two coaches. “If Tara is good with it, so am I.” She glanced at Ethan, hanging upside down on the chin-up bar doing crunches. “You okay with it?”
He grabbed the bar in his fists and swung his knees backwards until he was standing. “If she’s comfortable, so am I. I just don’t want to put her in danger.”
Chapter Twenty-Eight
“Do you have any idea why your husband is getting rid of Jerrod and I Sunday night?” Miguel asked.
“Yes.”
“Want to let me in on it?”
“No.”
“C’mon, Bruiser. If you don’t tell me I’ll assume he wants one last night of kinky sex before the fights.”
Sam gave him a deadpan look as long as she could, but then cracked up, laughing. “Oh, what the hell. You nailed it. He doesn’t like to have sex in the couple of weeks before a big fight, and because of the scheduling this time, our last hurrah will have to be tonight.”
“It’s a playroom behind the locked door, right?”
“Think what you want. I’m not talking about what we have stored in there.”
>
“My guess is a Saint Andrew’s Cross, some floggers and paddles—”
She interrupted. “Enough. Drop it already. I want to work on my ground game some more, will you grapple with me?”
* * * *
Sam had no idea what Ethan had told Jerrod, but she warned him Miguel would probably want to check her over tomorrow.
“He’s convinced the playroom is a playroom, but I’m not really comfortable with him knowing our dynamic. I can’t stop him guessing but I don’t want him to know for sure.”
He raised his eyebrows. “So you’re saying no marks tonight?”
“No, I’m just letting you know my wishes. We’ve already agreed you won’t do anything that may interfere with training, and while I’d like you to keep the marks to areas no one is likely to see, I want to have fun tonight, too.”
Ethan caressed her cheek. “They’re used to seeing you in a sports bra and bike shorts. I won’t mark your back up, but your ass is fair game.”
* * * *
Ethan had arranged for Jerrod and Miguel to stay in one of Master James’ cabins, though this was a two bedroom one, and not the one he’d lived in when he first came to town.
He herded both coaches out the door at three o’clock, and Sam figured she and Ethan would have some down time together before he got started. However, within minutes of the front door closing he was issuing orders.
“Take your clothes off and meet me in the playroom.”
Her body gave a little shiver of excitement at his words, and she rushed upstairs to put her clothes away.
Sam wasn’t surprised to see him situating the enema equipment when she stepped into the playroom. She’d developed a love/hate relationship with enemas — not terribly happy about the physical parts, but in love with the way it shoved his ownership of her front and center where she couldn’t ignore it. Or, perhaps back and center might be a better term.