Safewords: Davenport and Chiffon

by Candace Blevins

  "From where I'm sitting, it's a little late to ask, but yeah, you've got it.” She paused, knowing Brent would punish him, but... “I believe you followed the spirit of the order, as you didn't get hard until I played with you and brought up the possibility of orgasm—so, no consequences."

  She caressed the firm heat beneath his pants with the edge of her foot. “I still don't know that I'll be up for doing anything with it, but it's nice to have someone want me."

  Damn, she hadn't meant to sound so pathetic, and now her eyes were watering yet again. She turned her head, contemplating the window treatments as she tried to bury her emotions once more.

  A light touch to her knee returned her focus to Jacob, and his eyes looked as sad as hers felt. “Please read the email."

  Dana nodded and picked up her tablet, glancing up as the app loaded. “Strip and get under the covers, even if I don't play with you, I'd like to have you naked in bed with me."

  Dana,

  As I look back on our final conversation, I realize I'm at fault. I was so tied up in my own fear and grief I didn't recognize how my words and actions were affecting you. I saw the hurt on your face as I walked away, but it didn't register that I was rejecting your submission. I was too wrapped up in my pain to analyze yours, and I'm so sorry I hurt you

  I needed a few hours to think and gain perspective on the situation before I could step outside of myself enough to be a proper companion. When I came back upstairs, my plan was to ask you to marry me at our six-month mark, instead of waiting a year. If you refused, I intended to request we sign a medical power of attorney for each other, so we'd be able to have authority with the doctors should anything happen in the future.

  I was frantic with worry when I couldn't find you. There was no note, no explanation, nothing. I had no idea how you could've gone anywhere without a car, and without a vehicle pulling into the driveway to pick you up, but you're a smart and resourceful woman, and you found a way. I love you for your strength, even when it means you're resilient enough to walk away when I don't treat you right.

  I'm so sorry. Please come back to me. I love you, and I need you in my life. I'm willing to risk the pain of losing you, in order to have you. You've given my life meaning again. I'm sorry I was stupid, I'm sorry I caused you pain. Please forgive me.

  Z

  Dana read it twice and switched the screen off before walking to her suitcase and retrieving comfy cotton pajama bottoms and a matching tee. She'd locked her emotions down earlier, and was in danger of major waterworks if she released her grip on them even a little.

  Turning to Jacob, she said, “Thank you. You were right; I do need to sleep on it. I'm gonna take a quick shower and wash my hair. They said I could tomorrow morning, but it's driving me crazy and I'm doing it tonight. Turn the TV on if you like; when I get out we'll call Brent and check in with him."

  "With that huge claw-foot tub? Why don't you take a bath and let me wash your hair?"

  She'd been planning a good cry while she was in the shower, but at Jacob's words, the tenuous hold on her emotions gave way and the dam burst. He was to her in an instant; holding her, rubbing her back. He lifted her like an infant, stepped to the bed and sat with her in his lap, curled into him, and let her cry it out in the comforting strength of his arms.

  She'd thought Zach had worked through his grief, hadn't realized he might change his mind like this, and it hurt. She could be logical all day long, saying she didn't blame him, but her emotions wanted to pound him until he saw reason. He'd sliced her heart in two when he stepped away from her, revolted at the idea of having to accept her submission. Could she go back to him, after the look he'd given her when she tried to submit? Could she ever risk getting on her knees before him again?

  When at last she stopped crying, still miserable, Jacob walked her into the bathroom and sat her on the vanity while he prepared her bath. He expertly washed and conditioned her hair, pampering her better than any spa could conceive of, and then sat her in the desk chair and skillfully worked the blow dryer. Neither spoke, but it was a comfortable silence. He seemed to know she needed to think, and he gave her all the space she needed while overindulging her and showing her how special she was to him.

  When he finally turned the hairdryer off she said, “Was I wrong to leave without talking to him?"

  "I understand why you did, but if the two of you manage to work this out, you're going to have to reach some kind of agreement so it doesn't happen again."

  "You didn't answer my question."

  He unplugged the hair dryer and carried it and the brush back to the bathroom. She started to pull rank and insist he not walk away, but as he returned she saw something in his eyes that made her stay quiet to see what he'd do next.

  As he neared her, he gracefully dropped to the floor, his ass on his feet, knees spread, and hands at the small of his back. “He gave you space when you needed it, and let you know he'd be there when you figured things out. I think talking to him would've been a better idea, but I'm not sure leaving was wrong, either. You clearly communicated your feelings, so of course he reacted better. He did a piss-poor job of letting you know where his head was, and you weren't in the best place emotionally at the time, either. So, no, you weren't wrong, but I think talking to him before leaving would've been better."

  She ran her fingers through his hair and leaned down to kiss him. “Thank you for being honest."

  Jacob winced. “Have you decided whether you'll meet him tomorrow?"

  His face looked fine now, but she couldn't ignore the flinch, as if he'd been struck. Instincts told her to give him a few minutes, see if he brought it up, so she answered the question. “I'll make the decision in the morning. My gut right now is saying it might be best to wait until Saturday, to give him enough time to be certain he still wants me. I'm not good with wishy-washy. Either he wants me or he doesn't, and he needs to be sure before we talk."

  He sighed, staring at her feet as he spoke. “Ma'am, there's something else, but Brent told me I can't talk to you about it. But, you need to know, and I—"

  She interrupted. “If Brent ordered you not to tell me, you shouldn't. His authority supersedes mine, you know this."

  Jacob took a deep breath and spoke fast. “Zach cried to him, on the phone. Completely fell apart, to the point Brent almost flew down to him; he was so worried about his state of mind."

  Seeing him placed in the middle, his loyalties torn, broke her heart. She offered her hand. “Let's get into bed. I need to hold you."

  She leaned against the headboard and had him lay with his head in her lap, and caressed his face and the side of his throat, stroked his arm. She was still wearing the hotel's thick terrycloth robe, and she pulled it aside so he could rest his cheek directly on her thigh. She told him to stay put as she speed-dialed Brent.

  "Feeling better now that you've got company?"

  "Yes, thank you, but we need to talk.” Jacob stiffened and she trailed her fingers through his hair, wincing in pain as her shoulder caught, but kept up the movement, needing to reassure him it'd be okay.

  "Oh?"

  "You once told me problems in a menage should be dealt with right away, that communication must be paramount when there are more than two people in a relationship."

  "I did, yes."

  Jacob sat up and she said, “Lay back down, Jacob."

  "I can't listen to this. I shouldn't hear it."

  "When I get off the phone I'll be introducing your mouth to a bar of soap for arguing with me. Lay down, now, or I'll spread a blanket on the floor for you to sleep on tonight."

  His face remained defiant, but he put his head back on her thigh as Brent was saying, “On the one hand, I'm impressed with your ability to handle him, but on the other, I'm worried about what issue might have him this upset."

  "You forbid him from telling me Zach cried. It put him in a position of divided loyalties. You'll always be more important to him than me, but he felt it was information I needed
to have. Crap, let me start over."

  Jacob was still tense, and she moved her hand to his shoulder, hoping it would give him the assurance he needed. She took a breath, closed her eyes, and spoke slowly. “I asked him if I'd been wrong to leave, and he gave me a well thought out answer, more concerned with truth than hurt feelings. I thanked him for being honest and he fucking winced. I don't think I'd have seen that kind of reaction if I'd slapped his face. I won't try to advise what you should do about him telling me—but I am requesting he not be put into that position again. It's not fair to him."

  He sighed. “You're right. I screwed up. Can you put me on speaker, please?"

  Dana laid the phone on the bed and touched the speakerphone icon. “Okay, you've got us both."

  "I'm sorry, Jacob. I was wrong, and I'll grant you a forfeit when you return home. Furthermore, I give you permission to explain what that means to Dana, once we get off the phone."

  "Thank you, Brent, but I knew I'd be punished when I chose to tell her. I'm not asking for clemency. I disobeyed a direct order."

  Brent sighed. “I made a mistake, but you should've called to discuss it instead of defying me. Dana, was the conversation one where he needed to tell you right then? Or would it've been okay to take five minutes to call me, to get permission first?"

  Jacob's gaze met Dana's, his misery making her heart hurt. He opened his mouth to speak and she shook her head. He closed it and she smiled, showing him she was pleased. “Let me repeat the part where he winced when I thanked him for being so candid. I don't believe he could've called you, because he was too far into the guilt of my praising him for his honesty when he was withholding information."

  "However,” she sighed, meeting Jacob's eyes and stroking his cheek. “Looking at his face right now, it's clear he needs you to address it. Not that I have a say in your decision, but my suggestion would be for the symbolic rather than punitive."

  "Excellent, thank you.” His tone changed as he addressed his submissive. “Jacob, you'll bend over my lap and receive six smacks to the ass from my hand after I've accepted my forfeit from you. The subject is now closed. Is there anything else, Dana?"

  She made sure he was okay with Jacob following along as her assistant the next day, and let him know she probably wouldn't be up to playing—verifying she could allow a possible orgasm in the morning instead of tonight.

  She took it off speakerphone so Jacob and Brent could talk, and reached for her tablet to finally listen to Zach's voice mails. The first was scared, worried. A few voicemails later she heard anger, and then the apologies started. She looked through the emails and saw a similar pattern. Jacob was off the phone when she finished, but he remained quiet.

  "Everything okay?"

  "I'm sorry I doubted you, and regret my defiance. You were right to call him."

  He was miserable, and she'd have to assure his consequences were sufficient to assuage his guilt. But first... “What's a forfeit?"

  "He allows me to fuck his ass. It's only happened twice; he isn't wrong very often, but when he is, he admits to it. I've been forbidden from telling anyone, ever, so for him to request I explain it to you—it's almost like he's admitting he wronged you, too."

  "Why did you argue with me?"

  "It's not that I didn't want you telling him—I would've told him myself, if you hadn't... I just didn't want to hear you telling him. It's not easy to submit sometimes, and I failed you. If I can't surrender when it's hard, then it means nothing when it's easy. I'm sorry."

  She brushed her fingers through his hair. “You didn't fail me or yourself. No one's perfect and there were a lot of emotions flying around. I want you to trust me to handle stuff like this, and I hope my reactions today helped you along that path. Go to the bathroom and put a towel down before you kneel. I'll be in there in a little while."

  He stood beside the bed, saying, “I'm not usually allowed things like towels under my knees for punishment, Ma'am."

  She raised her eyebrows. “Still arguing with me? I said put a towel down, and you will. You'll also spend longer with the soap in your mouth."

  His head dropped. “I'm sorry, Dana."

  She waited for him to turn and walk, but he stood in place, looking at the floor. Sighing, she said, “It feels like you're testing me, Jacob. Go to the bathroom, put a towel down, and kneel. Since you're trying to delay, you can hold your hands to the back of your head as you wait."

  He finally turned and, she assumed, followed her instructions. She set her alarm app for five minutes and handled a few things online, as she wanted to give him time to think before they began. When her tablet vibrated she retrieved her all-natural soap from her luggage and walked to the bathroom, a little guilty for the strong arousal she felt at the anticipation of punishing him.

  He was kneeling as she'd instructed, but she only glanced at him before stepping to the sink to run the bar under the water, lathering it well. “Open wide, stick your tongue out.” She wiped the bubbly soap over his outstretched tongue, and then used her fingers to smear the white film all around his teeth and gums, and under his tongue—her clit throbbing insistently as his eyes began to water. Finally, she stuck the well-worn bar a good ways into his mouth and told him to close, looking into his eyes with no mercy, knowing he needed assurance she was willing to follow through when he didn't obey. She held his gaze until drool streamed from his mouth, and turned to walk out of the bathroom with a terse, “Follow me."

  Happy to see he didn't move his arms, she situated him in front of the TV with legs spread and hands still locked to the back of his head. “I'd intended on ten minutes, but you managed to double your time to twenty."

  Retrieving her tablet on the way back to the bed, she set another silent alarm so she'd know for sure when his time was up. She emailed Brent, asking him the significance of a semi-hard cock during punishment. He responded it likely meant Jacob was turned on by the power being wielded over him, but the discipline was unpleasant enough to override the feeling and prevent a full erection.

  When the twenty minutes were up, Jacob's eyes were watering enough to be called tears, he had soapy drool all down his front, his arms showed the strain of being held up for so long, and his cock displayed marginal arousal.

  "You can drop your arms and get in the shower—the bar stays in until you're under the spray. Make it quick, but be sure you get all of the soap off or you'll be itchy."

  She let him brush his teeth once he was clean and then brought him to bed and held him, telling him the punishment was over, and she knew he'd do better following her orders in the future.

  Her shoulder let her hold him for about ten minutes before it started hurting. She tried to adjust the way she was holding him to ease it, but the pain only got worse. She relaxed into the ache, needing to reassure him after she'd had to be harsh, but he picked up on it and said, “If you'll allow it, I'd like to rub Brent's bruise cream into your sore spots. I also have some stronger stuff I'd like to work into your back. I know we're good—I deserved what you gave me and now it's over. Let me take care of you please, Ma'am."

  "You're too good to me."

  His eyes met hers, emotion spilling out. “I'm grateful you're allowing me to be good to you, Ma'am."

  Her feelings were too close to the surface, and the eye contact was almost too much. She held it though, because he deserved to see into her. “I don't know what to say to that. You've become very important to me. Sometimes I'm not certain I'm worthy of your submission. You're so...” She paused, and found the perfect word. “...exquisite, in your surrender."

  She recognized the look on his face, she'd felt the same after being given approval by Garnet and Zach. Such a simple thing, to compliment and praise; she'd have to remember to do it more often.

  "Thank you, Ma'am. You're very worthy; please don't ever doubt it. If you'll roll over, I'll get the bruise cream and massage oil."

  Dana awoke in the middle of the night and realized she'd drifted off while he massaged h
er back. Her shoulder felt much better—the man had magical fingers. She double-checked her tablet, assuring the alarm was set, and fell back asleep in Jacob's arms.

  She wasn't awakened by the alarm the next morning, but by Jacob's mouth. Or, more specifically, by his probing tongue, making her blood boil and her hips rotate as she tried to find relief. He brought her to three orgasms before she stopped him, telling him it was enough, and he shifted into his kneeling stance on the bed, his cock rock hard and eyes lowered. She was reminded of how she'd thought he looked like a Greek god when she first saw him, and wondered how he was pulling the look off now, even when in a submissive pose. He was so regal and graceful, and just so damned beautiful.

  "You didn't have permission to touch me."

  "No Ma'am, I didn't. I apologize."

  "No need to apologize, we've talked about you taking the initiative on occasion, and it was a good call. I'm wound too tight, and wouldn't have let you if I'd been awake. Thank you."

  He looked up, meeting her eyes with a smile, and her heart fluttered.

  "You're very welcome, Ma'am."

  "Hands behind your head; lock your fingers together and don't move them."

  He did as instructed and she sat up and swung her legs under and behind her, so she was laying the other way, her face near his cock. She leaned down and licked from the base to the head and then, without warning, took him into the back of her mouth. She let the saliva build a moment, and then she pushed further, his cock burying into her throat as she swallowed him.

  She tortured him until her shoulder started to complain, and then took her time propping pillows before reclining into them, bending her right leg and planting her foot into the bed near his knee.

  "Jack yourself off—but hold back until I give the word. I want you to come on my foot, and then I want to feel your tongue licking it off."

  Jacob had a female foot fetish, and she'd seen evidence before of how much an order to lick his own cum affected him. Best of all, she could see the effects of her words on him as he lowered his hands and began to masturbate for her.