No Safeword: Matte - Happily Ever After (Safewords)

by Candace Blevins

  “Sit on the bondage table. I don’t want to hurt your ribs lifting you up there.”

  “Thank you, Master.”

  He smiled, obviously happy to hear Master coming from her lips, and stepped to her with her wrist and ankle cuffs.

  He spoke as he fastened them. “If I hurt something sore from your fight, you’ll tell me. If anything bothers your knee or rib cage, you’ll tell me.”

  “Ummm, Sir? Breathing hard hurts my ribcage. I think I’m just going to have to ignore the pain.”

  He leaned towards her, propped his fists on the table beside her legs, and asked, “Do you know why they don’t want us wrapping our rib cage anymore, to relieve the pain?”

  “Because shallow breathing can lead to pneumonia, and wrapping your rib cage keeps you from taking deep breaths.”

  “Correct. However, for short periods of time it’s okay. The problem before was people kept them wrapped around the clock for days or sometimes weeks.”

  He produced a super-wide roll of elastic bandage and said, “Hands behind your head, please.”

  When he finished, Sam felt better and could breathe easier than she had since before the fight. “Oh, that’s nice.”

  He smiled. “Yeah, but it’ll have to come off when we’re finished. Jump down and go to the cross, please.”

  She stood still while he connected her cuffs at the top and bottom, and then strapped her thighs and hips to the middle. He made sure her leg was straight, and locked the knee brace to keep it from bending.

  He put her hair in a ponytail, and she marveled at how since he’d had to learn to do it when she was injured, he no longer had to instruct her to put it up before they started.

  “I intend to flog you until I’m through, until I’ve had my fill of hurting you.” He stepped in front of her and caressed her cheek. “I need to hear you scream, but if it’s too much for your ribs I need you to tell me. I want to hurt your upper back, ass, and thighs, but don’t want you to have too much discomfort around your ribcage.”

  She nodded. “If my ribs are screaming louder than the rest, I’ll let you know.”

  He looked at her a few seconds and nodded. “Probably as good as we’re going to get. I’ll check in on you if I think there’s an issue.”

  He stepped around her and she said, “Sir?”

  A hand on her shoulder. “Yes?”

  “Can I ask for something? Not demand, just…ask?”

  “Of course.”

  “I want to be hornier than I am, if you’re about to start flogging me.”

  He reached between her legs, felt her lack of self-lubrication, and walked back around to her face. “The bondage usually gets you where you need to be. What’s up?”

  “I’m not sure. I mean, I’m on my way, but not there. Maybe because it’s been a while?”

  He kissed her forehead. “Thanks for letting me know. It might be your body telling us you aren’t ready for this yet, but we’ll see what happens and go from there.”

  She expected him to finger her, but he reached to her front with one hand and squeezed her clit around the outside of her labia, and began a gentle hand spanking to the sweet spot on her ass with the other hand.

  A dozen strokes into it she tried to wiggle to show him he could hit harder, but he had such a tight grip on her clit, she couldn’t.

  “If you want more, ask.”

  “You’re teasing me, Sir.”

  “Yes, I am. Tell me when you’re ready for more.”

  “I want more, please Master.”

  His hand struck a little harder, until she asked for more again, and received it.

  When she asked for more again, he stepped away and returned with the flogger.

  “I’m not taking your voice tonight. Ask for more, beg me to stop… whatever. Just make sure you do it with respect.”

  “Thank you, Master.”

  He said, “You’re welcome,” an instant before the flogger landed on the back of her right shoulder, and Sam groaned at the exquisite sting.

  He gave her the kind of flogging she liked — a steady, predictable rhythm alternating between her upper back and ass.

  When he stopped she moaned in complaint, and he came to her front and said, “You know there has to be something rough, for me to reclaim you.”

  She’d expected the entire evening to be rough, but she nodded without speaking.

  “Because I can’t make you scream for an hour with your ribs in this shape, we’re gonna go another route.”

  He pulled the cart where she could see it and pointed to the training marbles and beads.

  “These are the heaviest we worked up to. The marbles will go in your pussy, the beads in your ass, and you’ll need to hold them for an hour.”

  He motioned towards the clover clamps. “They’ll go on your nipples for ten minutes, off for five.” He lifted the Delrin cane. “When the clamps go on, you’ll receive ten strokes. When they come off, you’ll receive five.”

  “At the end of the hour,” he continued in his deep, authoritative voice guaranteed to send her to her happy place, “you’ll have received sixty strokes of the cane, and your nipples will be on fire. If you’ve managed to hold onto at least one item in both your pussy and ass, both of your holes will be fatigued and exhausted and so damned tight.” He caressed her cheek again. “This is when I’ll fuck you.”

  Sam nodded and swallowed as she tried to find her voice. “And if I can’t hold them in for an hour?”

  “Then I’ll fuck you and put you on the wooden pony.”

  His smile was a little too happy at the prospect, and Sam was certain the terror she felt in her bones showed on her face.

  Ethan brushed a stray hair away from her eye and said, “Yes. The horse comes back into play. You aren’t in training anymore.”

  He placed his phone where she could see it, set it on sixty minutes but didn’t start it, and reached for a handful of marbles.

  He poked them all into her, one by one, and then calmly started the time.

  The clamps went on next, and then he scooped some coconut oil and walked behind her. She groaned as he pressed each bead into her, and yelped as they grew progressively larger. It was impossible to relax and let them in while squeezing so hard to keep the marbles in her pussy.

  When he finally stood, she breathed easier until she saw him lift the cane.

  “Such beautiful, soft skin. Ten strokes.”

  She nodded and braced herself, and hoped he didn’t demand she relax her ass.

  He didn’t, thank goodness, nor did he strike as hard as she’d expected, but she knew he’d likely increase the intensity as the hour progressed. Still, she was hurting after ten strokes and didn’t look forward to more.

  Or, maybe she did. She’d missed this — not just the physical parts, but also the act of submitting to his will. The feeling of belonging to him so absolutely.

  Sam cried out when he took the nipple clamps away, and begged him to help with the pain, but he reached for the cane and stepped behind her without acknowledging her begging.

  Five strokes hurt worse than the ten from earlier, but she hung in her restraints when he finished, and held her ass and pussy as tight as possible. She couldn’t handle the wooden pony.

  Somehow, she survived most of the hour, and when the clamps went back on for the final time Sam screamed and begged him to take them off, but he only kissed her cheek and looked her in the eyes as if savoring her pain.

  Her pain for his enjoyment. God, she suddenly wanted him to hurt her worse, wanted to give him everything he asked, and more.

  She savored their connection, and several moments into the eye contact, when it was almost too much, she gasped, “I love you, Master.”

  “I love you, too.” He shook his head. “I’m wishing I’d gone for an hour and a half, this is ending too soon.”

  Sam almost panicked until he reassured her, “No, I said an hour and that’s all we’ll do.”

  “Thank you, Master.”


  The final five strokes were hell. He laid into her so hard, and over previous strikes — she’d have sworn he was using the stainless if she were blindfolded.

  She lost a few beads while being caned, and probably well over half of her marbles, but he’d only required she have one of each left, so there was no trip to the pony.

  Her pussy and ass muscles had never been so tired, though.

  Gentle hands disconnected her cuffs and helped her step away from the cross. He massaged her arms and shoulders to make sure the blood was flowing again, released her knee brace so she could bend her leg, and walked her to one of the spanking benches.

  Sam knew he was strapping her in so meticulously so he wouldn’t be tempted to hold her ribcage to keep her in place. Since she enjoyed bondage where she could move nothing but fingers and toes, the extensive ropes and trusses were almost a gift.

  When he finally finished, he lubed her ass without stretching it, and then jammed himself into her pussy with no warning.

  She screamed at the surprise invasion, and he chuckled as he pressed inside her, taking her pussy as if he owned it, and a few seconds later confirming it with words.

  “Mine, Samantha.”

  He fucked her slow, then fast, then slow again, and Sam could only moan encouragement. God, she’d missed this.

  Finally, he pulled out and walked around to her face. “Open up. I’m reclaiming all your holes.”

  Sam looked into his eyes as she opened her mouth, and hoped he didn’t play around with breath control. Her ribs were just about at their limit, but no way did she want to stop the scene. She’d needed this for weeks.

  Thankfully, he was gentle in her mouth and only stayed long enough to make his point before saying, “Make sure I’m wet.” His hand stroked down her hair and slid the ponytail holder off. “Your ass is lubed, but you need to get my cock slick, too.”

  He arranged her hair on one side of her face as Sam worked up as much saliva as possible and transferred it to his cock.

  His uber-sadistic smile set her heart to beating triple-time in anticipation as he stepped away and said, “How long has it been since I’ve been in your ass?”

  Sam swallowed and forced her vocal chords to work. “Almost three weeks, Master.”

  He leaned over her from behind and placed both hands on the padded leather beside her chest. She could see several inches between them in the mirror as he braced himself over her without touching. His sadistic smile turned compassionate as he asked, “How are your ribs?”

  “I feel them, but they’re okay. I can handle it.”

  Like a Cheshire cat, his smile morphed back to sadistic. The vibrant green of his eyes shot fear into her gut as her hips tried to wiggle in anticipation despite her bondage.

  “Well then,” he said, rubbing the head of his cock in small circles on the outside of her bottom-hole, “there’s nothing you can say to stop me. I’m going to fuck your ass, and you’re going to take it.”

  He pressed in and Sam gasped. He pushed, hard, and she yelped when the head cleared. Another violent push and she gave a small scream and begged, “Oh god, Master, give me time to get used to you. Please!”

  He pulled back an inch and pressed forward again. Sam squealed at the stretch and burn, but he pushed in yet again. “That’s it, scream for me. Beg me to stop.”

  “It’s too much, I just need time to—”

  He pressed in even farther and she screamed and begged, but he went out and back in, and out and back in. She felt every inch of him as his thick cock advanced, forcing its way into her despite her oh-so-tired rectal muscles protesting, until he finally hit bottom. He spread her ass cheeks wider with his hands and pushed deeper still. “My ass. My wife.”

  “Yours, Master! Yes! Please!” God, she was spread so wide, and filled so completely, but she loved the feeling of being owned, used, taken.

  He pulled back, pressed in slower this time. “Yes. Every inch of you is mine.” She shuddered as his hand caressed and massaged her lower back, and moaned as he moved to her shoulders and carefully worked the sore muscles. “Mine.” He leaned forward and kissed her cheek, careful to keep his weight off her torso.

  “I love you, Samantha Levi. Are you okay for me to go all caveman on you?”

  “Yes, Master. I’m yours.”

  He nodded, kissed her cheek again, and moved his hands to her hips as he stood.

  Sam couldn’t scream this time — it was too much, and she had to time her breaths for when he pulled back, because he pushed the air from her when he slammed into her.

  He didn’t take long, and reached under her and played with her clit after he came, ordering her to “Come Samantha. Get me all hard again by pulsing and writhing around my cock. We aren’t finished yet. Let me have it.”

  She wanted to be finished, but her body listened to Ethan and not her, and the orgasm swept her under in a tidal wave of pleasure and pain, agony and bliss.

  He pulled out when she finished, and his strong hands efficiently untied her before sitting her up and carefully removing the wrap from her ribcage.

  She looked down to see him soft and asked, “Mindfuck, Sir?”

  He smiled. “You never know if it’s a mindfuck or if I mean it.” He unwound another couple of revolutions and said, “If your ribs weren’t sore we’d have kept going, but I think you’re done for the day.”

  “Which means you’ll need to reclaim me again, later?”

  He kissed her forehead. “I don’t know. I’m good for now. We’ll see if that changes when we’re both back to one hundred percent.”

  He stood in front of her and had her wrap her legs and arms around him, put her head on his shoulder, and he carried her upstairs to their bed before going to the bathroom to clean up a little. He rubbed a soothing sports cream all over her, and was extra gentle on her ribs.

  She burrowed backwards into his body, thankful they could spoon once again, and the blankets settled around them like a warm cocoon.

  The last thing she heard as her consciousness quieted and settled into a safe, peaceful calm was, “Go to sleep, Darlin’. I’ve got you.”

  Epilogue

  Sam saw Karen Johansen approaching the stage and she walked to the steps to hug her.

  “I’m so glad you made it. How was your flight?”

  “Probably as good as it gets these days,” Karen said as she returned Sam’s embrace. “Funny, I no longer judge flight days by the actual flying, but how much of a pain it is to get through security.”

  “Yeah, but for some reason they no longer feel the need to fondle my private parts, though that may have as much to do with Ethan almost always being with me as anything else.” She stepped out of the hug and motioned towards the side of the stage. “We’re about thirty minutes away from running through the whole thing, beginning to end. I’ll walk you backstage so you can put your things in a locker.”

  “Thanks. I’d like to change clothes, too.” She looked around and added, “You know some of the women fighters are only here because the league so strongly encouraged it, right?”

  Sam sighed. “Yes, and I’m sorry about that. The league management went a little overboard trying to clean up their act and distance themselves from Clemente.”

  “How much did they give your charity?” she asked as the two women made their way backstage.

  “Just under a million, plus offering to pay travel expenses for anyone who came today.” She smiled. “The real boon was the advertising they’re donating, though. The Fight Domestic Violence logo will get a spot on the cage floor of all televised events for eighteen months, we get three minutes of commercials in every televised event for the same duration, and for the pay-per-view specials either me or a spokesperson of my choosing will be able to talk about the charity for a minimum of thirty seconds between the final two bouts.”

  “Not bad. I’ve already volunteered to do a commercial, anything else you need from me?”

  Sam shook her head. “Not righ
t now, but if I think of something I’ll let you know, and if you have something in mind, I’m open to suggestions.”

  Karen shook her head, “Nothing in mind, just letting you know I’m open to it if something else comes up. How many people did you end up with today? I heard you have fifteen professional female fighters, and I know you have a lot of the league’s coaches.”

  Sam nodded. “We have forty-two female teachers and fifty-eight male teachers, and we’ve sold nearly a thousand tickets. We’ll teach the first hour as a large group, and divide up into classes of around twenty, with two teachers per class, for the next two hours. When we come back from lunch there’s another hour as a large group, an hour and a half in small groups, and a final thirty-ish minutes all together again.”

  “The video you sent me was great. My coach said you’re making this available to dojos and teachers everywhere, as a way to teach practical self-defense skills in a single day?”

  Sam smiled. “I am. I’ve been teaching small Saturday classes here and there for a long time, and it’s nice to put it out so others can teach what I’ve figured out. Women don’t need to spend years learning martial arts, they can be taught the skills and self-confidence they need in an afternoon if you think about what they truly need to know and don’t try to teach a ton of other things to get them there.”

  Karen nodded. “Yeah, I went over it with my baby sister, who’ll start college in the fall, and in two hours she was doing everything as if she’d been doing it for months. I’m worried about her because some research was done at the college she’s going to, and apparently something like three/fourths of the women in the last graduating class said they were raped while on campus.”

  “Shit. Maybe I need to focus on teaching college-aged girls, too?”

  Karen raised her eyebrows as if to say, “You think?” and Sam shook her head and said, “Okay, thanks for the info. I’ve branched out already, away from only fighting domestic violence to showing women how to stand up for themselves both physically and legally in general, so I may as well take on college campus safety, too.”