Safewords: Davenport and Chiffon

by Candace Blevins

  "Yeah, just not sure I can sit in the seat."

  "Not a problem. Here, I brought your fleece lined Crocs, slide your feet in."

  He fastened her coat around her, tied the belt, and helped her through the club to the emergency exit. One of the dungeon masters was there to let them out without setting off an alarm, and Dana breathed a sigh of relief to see the Escalade outside the door. Brent opened the back, and Zach eased her down on an inflatable mattress and then lay beside her, holding her.

  "Go to sleep if you want. Jacob's up front with Brent. If you're asleep when we get there I'll help Jacob walk in and Brent will carry you."

  [Back to Table of Contents]

  Chapter Seventeen

  * * * *

  Jacob and Dana were treated like royalty—no one had to go in to work for a week after New Year's, and their days consisted of having their piercings cleaned four times a day, lots of good food, video and board games, and conversation.

  Dana didn't get a chance to see her piercings until the next afternoon, and she finally figured out why it'd hurt so bad—the piercer had used a huge needle, and the rings penetrating her labia were much thicker than she'd imagined they'd be. They still had a ways to go before they'd be as big as Zach wanted them, but he'd started out with large holes so the stretching process wouldn't take so long.

  On the third morning both submissives were laid side-by-side on the bed, their heads backwards over the edge, and the two Doms used their mouths and throats.

  Later that afternoon they were leaned over the arms of the sofa, facing each other, and thoroughly ass-fucked with neither allowed their own release.

  When Brent flew them home seven days later, Dana's piercings were still sore but no longer kept her from sitting.

  Zach used her mouth and ass plenty over the next three weeks, but neglected her pussy until she thought she'd go crazy.

  The wedding date was set for early April, and it was mid-February when Zach broke the news that he wouldn't make use of her pussy again until they were married.

  "But, you haven't fucked me since last year, Sir. I can't wait until April! That'll be nearly four months!"

  "I suggest you watch your attitude, you're coming close to a punishment."

  Dana took a breath, tried to calm down, but wasn't managing. “Sir, I'm afraid I need help with my attitude."

  She focused on his feet as she spoke, because he'd see the hostility she was feeling if she looked at him. She'd learned it was better to be honest, to let him know when she wasn't viewing one of his edicts as a happy submissive should, so he could help her get there, but it was damned hard, sometimes.

  His voice softened. “Who do you belong to?"

  "You, Sir."

  "I want our wedding night to be special. I'm going to make love to you, and it will have been so long since I've been in your pussy, it'll be memorable for both of us. I need you to kneel, please."

  She did, and he walked to a chair, sat, and patted the side of his leg. She crawled to him, resenting him for making her, but once she was in her familiar kneeling-time position, leaning comfortably against his leg, something inside her slid into place and she belonged to him, wanted to please him.

  "Tell me where your head is, pet."

  "I was thinking of my own pleasure instead of your wants and needs. I'm sorry, Sir."

  "Anything else?"

  "Yes, Sir. I miss Jacob. Brent removed his phone privileges for a week, and it feels like I'm being punished along with him."

  "He's only on phone restriction two more days. There's nothing I can do, and you know it. I've grounded you from the phone a few times, and Jacob felt the same way, I believe. What else?"

  "I'm mad at you, Sir, for ignoring my pussy. I understand your reasoning, but I can't help the way I feel."

  "Ah, there it is. We're getting married in seven weeks. I won't be fucking your pussy until our honeymoon—that's not negotiable. What do you propose we do to keep you from becoming resentful?"

  "I don't know, Sir."

  "Well, I do, but I think I'll let you find out as a surprise. Meanwhile, perhaps a little maintenance is in order, to remind you of who you are."

  "Yes, Sir,” she said miserably, “You're probably right."

  He laughed. “Probably? Go upstairs and get into your cage. I'll be up in a minute to lock you in."

  He blindfolded and hogtied her, letting her hear the cage door shut and the lock click.

  She had no idea how much time she spent trussed backwards, but her body hurt long before he finally got her out, and instead of massaging her as he'd usually do, he only rearranged her bondage, putting her on hands and knees on the bed, then pulling her arms through her legs to reattach wrists to ankles.

  "What are you?"

  "I'm your pet, Sir."

  "Tell me what you want."

  Oh god, her pussy needed attention so bad, but he wanted it empty, and suddenly, she wanted it to be special for their wedding night, too. “Use my mouth or my ass, please, Sir. I'm yours, and I want our honeymoon to fulfill every fantasy you have about it."

  His hand caressed her bottom, comforting her. “That's my girl. It's good to have you back. Are you craving pain, pet?"

  "Yes, sir. Please?"

  "We'll start with ten."

  The first strike hit and Dana screamed. He was using the thinner Loopy Johnny, but even the small one was too intense without a warm-up. The next strike was brutal, the pain encompassing more than skin and muscle, and she managed an Ottoman amongst her shouting. She hadn't intended it to sound like she was crying, but the word came out as a sob.

  "I'm sorry. Sir."

  He gently rubbed across the strike zone, soothing the pain. “Don't apologize. You aren't being punished, and I didn't ask you to take it for me. You're supposed to tell me when it's too much.” He began disconnecting collar and cuffs as he talked. “I don't want to go downstairs to get a flogger right now, and I think a nice over-the-knee hand-spanking sounds rather appealing. Back to basics, yes? Keep your eyes closed."

  His fingers stroked her face before gently removing the blindfold. She felt soft feather kisses on her back, and his hand caressed her bottom again. “Open your eyes while you're looking down. Once they've adjusted you can sit up, and then come to me. I'll be in the seating area. Don't stand until you're sure you have your balance."

  The lights weren't bright, so within a few minutes she found herself walking to him. He'd pulled her vanity stool into the bedroom, so there'd be no arms to get in the way of bending over his lap.

  The act of draping your body over a lover's legs, putting yourself into position to be spanked, is one of the most intimate and trusting acts a submissive can do. It's so simple, but bare stomach and thighs on clothed legs, your side against his cock, your naked bottom sticking up, and all of your girly parts exposed to his view—it's a terribly humbling experience.

  Dana had forgotten how bad a simple hand-spanking could hurt. A hand can deliver sting and thud at the same time, or can produce one or the other. Zach kept things changed up, so she never knew what kind of hit she'd be experiencing next, and once he saw she was getting into it, he sped up, his hand coming time and time again with no pause until she was kicking her legs and fighting to get away, tears rolling down her face. It never occurred to her to safeword, she was so into the moment. The only things that existed in her universe were Zach's legs, his arm wrapped around her torso holding her in place, her hands on the floor under her, her unclothed thighs on his pants, the staccato rhythm of his hand, and the wonderful heat emanating from her bottom.

  When at last he stopped, a little out of breath, he said, “Okay, pet, this time I'm asking you to take what I give you. I need to hurt you, and I need to see you accept it. Can you do that for me?"

  Without a doubt, she'd find a way. “Yes, Sir. I can."

  "Go into your closet and brace yourself. I won't make you wait long."

  He'd found the perfect position for her to stand agains
t a wall, and appropriated an unused section in her closet to paint silhouettes of hands on the sheet rock and feet on the floor.

  She situated her arms first, then her feet, and finally made sure her back was arched, her already throbbing ass pushing up. The stance was comfortable enough to hold for five or ten minutes, but beyond that, muscle strain set in.

  She heard his footsteps within minutes, her head turning to look, anticipation growing in her gut. She spotted the thick loopy in his hand and her pussy lit up as dread settled in her heart.

  "I'm not giving you a number today. I'll start with the small one and progress to the heavy one. You don't have to be quiet, but if so much as a finger or toe moves outside of a line, what's the punishment?"

  "Twelve hours in mitts and hobbles, every time I move. Sir."

  The first two strikes had her fighting to stay in place as the walls of hanging clothes absorbed her screams. The third strike wasn't so bad, and somewhere around the sixth she felt her ass pushing back and up, no longer trying to avoid, but wanting it harder, faster.

  He switched implements without giving any indication, and she came very close to moving when the heavy loopy hit. She bent her legs a little, pulled her ass in some, but only for an instant. He gave her a predictable rhythm, but she struggled against it for the longest—fighting her reflexes, battling against the fight-or-flight response that insisted she flee the agony.

  Until she didn't anymore. Now she wanted the next strike. She was adrift without the pain searing through her body. Her ass was hot, swollen, and ached when he took too long between swings. Each blow was like nourishment, a vitamin that kept the muscle from aching.

  When he finally stopped, she heard the loopy being thrown down, felt his cock at her asshole. He'd told her earlier in the week she was to stay lubed at all times so he could fuck her anytime. She wanted more pain now, and wished she'd neglected to add it.

  Thankfully, he wasn't gentle, and her ass was sore from the frequent use. It was perfect, and she howled through the pain, fighting to keep her hands and feet in place through his pounding even though she didn't have to anymore—as long as she stayed close during this part, he'd be pleased, but she wanted to show him her control, needed to give all of herself to him.

  The order to orgasm came just before he went wild, gripping her hips and destroying her from the inside out as her climax tore through her, heating her blood past the boiling point until she thought her head would fly off. Her world spun out of control, colors and sounds merging together as heat shot deep inside her, filling her.

  Zach lifted her into his arms and carried her to bed, gently laying her on her side before rolling her onto her stomach. He held her until she floated into the blissful darkness, sleep crashing around her, pulling her under.

  Dana awakened in agony, her ass swollen, hot, and aching. She groaned, heard Zach's voice. “Shhh, you're okay. I'm here. Do you need more ice?"

  It took her a minute to realize what ice meant, and the significance of the wonderful throbbing sensation blanketing her ass and thighs. “Can I see, Sir? I have to use the restroom anyway, will you help me up?"

  He nodded and walked around the bed, supporting her as she slid off, holding his arm around her waist to walk her into the bathroom. She twisted around to view her ass in the mirror and saw the harsh, sideways teardrop shaped welts and bruises left by the Loopy Johnny.

  Topical bruises layered over deep ones, decorated by welts. She reached her hand back, trailed her fingers lightly over the skin and felt dozens of raised contusions in one swipe across. She twisted to hug Zach, throwing her arms around him.

  "Thank you, Sir. Oh god, thank you so much. How did you know I needed it?"

  "Because I know my pet. You seem pretty steady now, are you okay?"

  She let go of him, stepped back, her balance fine. Mostly. “I think so, how long did I sleep?"

  "About four hours. I've been rotating ice on and off while you slept. I should've put more on about fifteen minutes ago, but had a feeling you may rouse soon and didn't want to take a chance on you waking up alone. If you're all right I'll run down and get some more."

  "I'm good. Thank you. Again."

  He smiled and left, not even insisting she sit on the toilet first. As soon as she'd lost her hang-ups about peeing in front of him, it stopped being a big deal.

  She was climbing back into bed as he returned with the ice, and she sighed with relief as the cold began to cancel out the heat.

  "We're not in scene rules now, right Sir? Can we talk?"

  He stroked her back, and she turned her head to the other side to see his face.

  "I thoroughly enjoyed giving you those marks. I'm not sorry, I have no regrets, and I'm not disgusted with myself—or you. Is that what you wished to know?"

  The fist squeezing her heart relaxed and she reached up with her hand to hold his, bringing it to her mouth to kiss his fingers. No words were needed, and they lay together, both secure in the fact she was his, and he was hers.

  Dana felt her eyes closing, remembered how close they'd come to walking away from each other, thought of the game of Truth or Dare that brought them back together, and realized she'd never asked Zach about his question to Brent.

  "Sir? When you asked Brent if he was attracted to you... have the two of you had whatever conversation you needed to have about it?"

  "No, but I've talked to Kirsten, and I've been working up the nerve to talk to Brent."

  She kissed his hand again. “Can you tell me what you're thinking?"

  He sighed, patting her back and then pushing his body down the bed until he was lying beside her, so they were face to face. “Sometimes it feels as if Brent is tiptoeing around me, like he's paranoid I'll suddenly realize I'm naked in a room with a gay man, and I'll freak. I want us to get beyond that, and if it means we need to beat each other off to convince him I'm comfortable around him and won't come unhinged if he accidentally touches me while we're all having sex, I think I'm up for it."

  Dana wasn't sure it was a good strategy, but she sensed Zach had more to say, and she added, “But...."

  He smiled; amused she'd known there was more. “But Kirsten says I shouldn't offer unless I'm honestly curious about how it'll feel, she thinks doing it just to prove I'm cool with touching and being touched is a bad idea. But I sense I need to do something."

  "Maybe you should talk to him, tell him what you told me? Simply having the conversation may be enough to put him at ease."

  When Jacob arrived Friday she discovered she'd be allowed to fuck him with her pussy, and she regretted her outburst all the more. Still, her ass and mouth got a lot of use in that period, and she grew tired of having to keep her ass constantly lubricated. She did though, as she soon learned Zach would use her when he wanted, and he didn't take it easy on her if she wasn't lubed.

  The next seven weeks were a flurry of activity at work as she attempted to finish all of her projects before she took a month off to get married and play.

  Brent put Jacob into the jailbird a month before their wedding date, and Dana's pussy couldn't play anymore.

  Dana designed a curved Prince Albert wand with a large diamond on one end and a prominent D on the other. Brent's jeweler specialized in that sort of thing, and she was assured it would feel perfect when he fucked her. She worked with one of the piercers so she'd be able to take his ring out and put the wand in, with special plans for her to do it after the wedding ceremony.

  The two Doms had their talk behind closed doors and the next time the four of them played, she could tell Brent was more relaxed when in close proximity to Zach. She'd never noticed him being careful of Zach before, but now that he wasn't she could tell the difference.

  She and Zach drafted a new contract, with plans to sign it the afternoon of their wedding. This one was permanent, with no end date, and it gave him the right to decide whether to honor her safeword or not, at any time. She was still required to use it as a communication tool, but it was no longe
r a guarantee he'd stop.

  Dana spent an hour looking up hospitals to find the best in the areas they'd travel for their honeymoon, but otherwise decided she couldn't worry about what might happen. She was comforted by the fact that with four people together, she wouldn't be making decisions alone if someone got sick.

  She and Zach changed their wills, which was probably the most emotional part of the wedding preparations. He put her name on the house, as well as on all of his bank and investment accounts. They also changed the titles on all of their vehicles to show both names.

  Dana had known Zach was rich, but hadn't realized exactly how much money he'd accumulated, and was a little intimidated by it. He'd put her at ease, reminding her money could buy security, but not happiness. He could see to her security if something happened to him, but she'd be responsible for her own happiness.

  [Back to Table of Contents]

  Chapter Eighteen

  * * * *

  Dana awakened the morning of her wedding and snuggled closer to Jacob. She looked at the clock, saw it was almost nine, and rolled over to rouse him. They'd need breakfast soon, so they could start getting ready.

  "Wake up, sleepyhead. We're getting married today."

  He opened his eyes and looked at her a few seconds before breaking out in a smile. “We are, aren't we? God, we've got a lot to do. Do you want the shower while I call down to room service? Still want the same thing you picked out last night?"

  "Yeah, eggs and oatmeal, the least likely foods to upset my stomach."

  Jacob gave her the full Diva treatment, just as he'd pamper a star he was preparing for the red carpet. He chattered nervously as he worked, and she loved him for it.

  "I wonder how Brent and Zach made it last night? I can't believe we talked them into letting us stay together, so they wouldn't see us on our wedding day until we walked down the aisle."

  Dana laughed. “I'm sure they're fine. Probably plotting what to do to us after the ceremony. Can you work on the corset a little more, please? Zach will expect it much tighter, since I can still breathe. Besides, he put me in it for the final fitting, so the dress will be too small unless you pull as hard as he did."