Safe Word

by Christie Grey

  Maybe it was the slow, unbearable buildup that was to thank. Or maybe it was the light, barely-there touch of the feather that did it. Regardless of the reason, when Melody’s body finally erupted in climax, it was so powerful and overwhelming that it nearly caused her to pass out. Never in her life had she known such white hot, scalding pleasure. It was unreal. It was ecstasy.

  Arching her back and thrashing against her bonds, Melody tipped her head back and screamed. She hollered and yowled until her throat was raw and her voice was hoarse. Zane continued to pleasure her with the feather the entire time, causing her climax to go on and on until, after what seemed like an eternity, she slumped down to the mattress, exhausted.

  Zane, who was still kneeling on the bed between Melody’s widely played thighs, watched her silently. When she opened her eyes after a brief recovery period, she saw him there, patiently waiting for her to come back to Earth.

  She smiled dreamily. “That was amazing.”

  “I hope you haven’t forgotten about your end of the deal,” he replied. “I gave you what you wanted. Now it’s your turn to give me what I want.”

  She looked down and saw he was still rock hard. He’d evidently very much enjoyed the way her slow, sensual torture session had culminated in an explosive, all-consuming ending. But whereas she had eventually gotten her satisfaction, Zane still hadn’t. He was still very much turned on.

  And he wanted to spank her.

  Swallowing hard, Melody nodded. She was trying to be brave about it. Now that she’d gotten her relief, the prospect of getting a spanking wasn’t quite so hot. When she had been turned on, her judgment had been clouded by lust. Anything would have sounded good to her then. But now...now the thought of being spanked seemed more humiliating than anything.

  But she’d made a promise.

  “I haven’t forgotten,” she told Zane bravely.

  “Good girl,” he replied as he undid her restraints. Then he sat down on the edge of the bed. He beckoned to her, his clothing barely able to contain the big, hard bulge straining to break free. “Get over my lap, facedown.”

  Melody still felt weak from the rollercoaster her body had just been taken on. But she managed to crawl down to where Zane sat and, hesitantly, draped herself across his legs. It was about the most demeaning position she could imagine, and certainly one that made her feel subservient. But right now what she craved was to be held by him, not to have her bottom smacked!

  A deal was a deal, or at least that was what she tried to tell herself.

  Gritting her teeth in determination, Melody braced herself for the first blow. It was delivered swiftly and, as Zane had warned her, severely. She gasped and jerked away, taken aback by the sheer force of it.

  Zane waited patiently for her to recover. Then he spoke.

  “Get back in position.”

  This time he aimed for her other cheek, and his goal was apparently to turn Melody’s bottom as red as her face. He gave her two hard smacks, the second of which nearly made her cry out. It was impossible for her to hold still, and she jumped reflexively at the pain.

  “Stop squirming,” Zane ordered.

  “I’ll try.”

  The next blow was even worse, perhaps because it hit an area that had already been tenderized. Melody shrieked and nearly toppled right off of Zane’s lap and onto the floor. But he caught her at the last minute, holding her firmly in place.

  “That’s why I told you to stay still,” he scolded, his tone impossible to read.

  “I’m trying, I swear! But it hurts,” she protested. “I can’t help it.”

  “Can’t you?” he asked as though he held all the answers to every question in the universe.

  “I...I don’t understand.”

  “You withstood the last spanking I gave you pretty well,” he recalled.

  “Yes but you’re hitting harder this time,” Melody told him from her position across his lap.

  She didn’t understand where Zane’s line of questioning was headed or what he was expecting of her. All she knew was that she felt very small and very vulnerable draped across his lap with her bare bottom exposed for a spanking. Worse yet, it felt like she was being punished for absolutely no reason. Even though it was a game she had agreed to, Melody was getting upset.

  “I’m not spanking you any harder than I did last time.”

  “But...”

  “Think back,” Zane urged. “The last time I spanked you, you were turned on. Weren’t you?”

  “Well...yes,” Melody agreed, confused. “But I don’t see what that has to do with anything.”

  “Being aroused helps you withstand pain,” he explained. “In your case, it even helps you process the pain as pleasure to a certain extent. Wouldn’t you say that’s true?”

  Though he phrased it as a question, his tone told Melody he already knew the answer.

  “I guess so,” she replied uncertainly.

  “Somebody couldn’t wait to come,” he reminded her, his tone slightly chastising and perhaps even bordering on condescending. “I gave you what you wanted, or at least what you thought you wanted. But if you had simply accepted the teasing and trusted in me, you’d still be turned on right now. And this spanking would be a lot easier for you to endure.”

  He smacked Melody again then, hard. It was unexpected, and because of that it hurt twice as much as the other blows. She screeched and began to cry, partly from the pain and partly from being lectured. This wasn’t what she’d signed up for...was it?

  She was so confused.

  Zane’s fingers dipped between her thighs then, sliding over her sex. Maybe he did it because he took pity on her and wanted to give her some pleasure to counteract the pain. Or maybe he simply wanted to humiliate her further by calling attention to the fact that she was getting wet down there despite – or because of – the stinging blows he’d delivered.

  He slipped a finger inside her tight, warm orifice. Soon a second one joined it, stretching her open. Melody could feel the heat coming off her pain and pleasure wracked body in waves. She bit her lip and clenched her fists, her toes curling. When was it going to be over?

  So many unexpected emotions were flooding through her that Melody wasn’t sure how to process them. She was barely holding back tears and yet her body was betraying her by getting turned on from the harsh and embarrassing treatment. What was she to make of that?

  Zane gave Melody another smack. The sound of his big, strong hand crashing down on her smooth, supple flesh rang out in the room, loud and abrasive. But this time the blow didn’t seem quite so harsh. Maybe it was because his other hand was still toying with her sex, getting her excited. There really was something to be said for combining pleasure and pain. They complemented on another perfectly.

  Before she knew it, Melody was writhing on Zane’s lap, but she wasn’t doing so due to pain. No, she was doing it because of the stirrings in the pit of her belly. She was doing it because his skilled fingers knew precisely where to massage, stroke and caress to elicit a reaction from her tormented, confused body.

  He pressed against her most sensitive spot and rubbed her there hard, round and round. Melody’s entire body stiffened. She inhaled sharply, gasping for breath as her sex was blatantly and deliberately stimulated.

  Then Zane administered another blow, fast and hard and succinct.

  Melody moaned and wiggled her hips. She wasn’t sure if she was trying to get away or trying to entice him to keep going. The way she was gyrating made it look like she was presenting her bottom as a moving target, practically begging Zane for more. But she couldn’t help it. Her body had a mind of its own and was running its own agenda.

  Or perhaps more accurately, Melody’s body was running Zane’s agenda.

  She was under his thumb, quite literally.

  Or at least she was until he did something that shocked her to her core.

  Chapter 20

  Before long, Zane seemed to have forgotten all about the spanking. Or he’d a
t least tired of it. No longer interested in inflicting pain, he’d begun to focus solely on delivering pleasure, which was perfectly fine with the red-bottomed submissive draped over his knee.

  Melody moaned and cooed as she remained spread docilely across Zane’s lap, his nimble fingers exploring the slick crevice between her thighs. She was heating up. In fact, she was beyond heating up. She had reached boiling point once again.

  When Zane’s fingers suddenly moved away from her pleasure center, Melody thought little of it. She understood the point of his painful lesson. He wanted her to trust him to decide when she received pleasure.

  So she didn’t beg. She didn’t whine. She simply stayed still and let him have his way with her body, trusting that he would return his attention to her steaming, dripping sex in due course. In the meantime, the way he was slowly, carefully massaging her sore, red cheeks felt nice. It was soothing and even erotic.

  She shut her eyes and allowed herself to drift away into a fantasy.

  But Melody was jolted back to reality when she felt Zane spread her cheeks apart with his hands. She blushed wildly as she realized he must be inspecting the state of her wet, pink sex, examining it from behind. Biting her lower lip, she willed herself to simply submit.

  And when Zane’s finger dipped back into her slick, highly aroused orifice, she sighed contentedly. She felt oddly proud of herself, as though she had passed another unspoken test of his by letting him have his way with her. Now she was about to get her reward for good behavior, she was sure of it!

  But what Zane did next stunned Melody.

  His finger, slick with her arousal, moved up higher. It ran over that other, forbidden orifice. Thankfully it didn’t try to seek entrance, but Melody immediately feared that was next. Shocked that Zane would touch her in that place, Melody stiffened. Then she let out a yelp and tried to squirm away.

  It seemed like maybe he had expected that, because he held onto her tightly, overpowering her with ease. She wasn’t getting away, no matter how much she struggled. No, she wasn’t going anywhere.

  And neither was his finger.

  It nudged at Melody’s most private opening insistently, causing her to gasp in horrified disbelief. It wasn’t causing her any pain. Zane wasn’t being rough with her. But Melody still felt utterly violated, shocked and disheartened that he would do something like that without even asking permission first.

  She knew that was their arrangement: he did what he wanted and she let him. And usually she liked that. But usually he didn’t push her so far beyond her limits. Or at least when he did, it was at least somewhat enjoyable. This, however, wasn’t. Melody didn’t consider herself a prude but even the most sexually adventurous people had likes and dislikes.

  And she definitely disliked what Zane was doing to her.

  No one had ever touched her there before, mostly because she had never allowed it. She simply wasn’t interested in exploring that type of play, end of story. To her, that area was off limits, and she was deeply, deeply uncomfortable with what Zane was doing.

  For a moment, she froze.

  Then she sprang into action.

  “Raspberry!” she sputtered, feeling completely betrayed.

  Technically it was the second time Melody had used her safe word, but it was the first time she had really, truly meant it. It was the first time she had felt frightened and betrayed. It was the first time she had doubted Zane. To question whether she could trust him was a sickening, gutwrenching feeling.

  As soon as she said her safe word, Zane reacted. His finger, thankfully, stopped its unwelcome violation and he let her up. Melody sprang to her feet and then stood there in front of him on shaky legs, covering herself with her hands and trying not to break down.

  She wasn’t sure what to do or say next.

  Zane looked equally unsure of himself. It was the first time he had appeared to not be in full control of the situation, and that, perhaps more than anything, left Melody rattled to her core. He was her Dom. He was supposed to know what he was doing. And she was supposed to be able to trust him with all her heart.

  He stood up, swaying slightly.

  “You used your safe word.” He didn’t say it in an accusing way, but he sounded hurt and confused. “Why?”

  “I don’t want you touching me...there,” Melody mumbled, feeling equal parts foolish and irate.

  “Why?” he asked again.

  “I don’t like it.” Her cheeks were burning – both sets of them.

  “Have you tried it before?”

  “No,” she admitted.

  “Then how do you know you don’t like it?” Zane wanted to know.

  Melody struggled to come up with an explanation. She didn’t understand why he was giving her such a hard time about using her safe word, or why he seemed to expect her to rationalize her decision. It was almost as though he was challenging her judgment, silently insinuating that she had been out of line to call off what they were doing.

  Maybe he didn’t mean to come across that way. Melody didn’t know for sure. All she knew was that Zane was making her feel incredibly bad about herself. Suddenly she felt extra naked, if that was possible. She grabbed a sheet off the bed and covered herself.

  That move, although innocent enough, seemed to anger Zane.

  “What, like I haven’t seen you naked a thousand times before?” he demanded, looking angry.

  “I...I think I need a break from playing,” Melody told him, deeply shaken. She felt dirty and deeply disappointed. She also felt like she had let Zane down, so on top of everything else that probably meant she was a terrible sub.

  She needed to get away from him. She couldn’t bear to look at him a moment longer.

  Struggling to come up with an excuse, a distraction, she told him, “I’m going to take a shower.”

  “You just took a shower.”

  “Well I’m going to take another one,” she said firmly, trying to sound more in control than she felt. Then she hastily retreated into the master bathroom, locking the door behind her. She looked down and saw that her hands were shaking.

  Immediately, Melody walked over to the shower turned on the water as hot as she could stand it. She got in and grimaced, but didn’t adjust the temperature. It was almost as though she wanted to be scalded, like maybe it would somehow melt away all the nastiness of what had happened.

  Melody stood there in the shower, her head pressed against the cool tile wall as the steaming water sprayed down on her. What had happened out there? How had things gone from good to deeply uncomfortable so quickly?

  Melody kept replaying the night’s events in her head over and over, hoping for clarity. She couldn’t even decide for sure who had been in the wrong, her or Zane. All she knew was he’d crossed a line, perhaps inadvertently, and the reaction he’d had when she had told him had left her feeling rotten.

  When the hot water ran out, Melody realized she had been standing there, leaning against the tile wall, for a very long time. Shivering under the now cool spray, she shut the tap off and stepped out of the shower, wrapping herself in a big towel.

  Then she unlocked the door and prepared to face Zane.

  She found him in the living room. He was in the recliner with his feet up and a beer in his hand. The television was on and he was staring at it, but she could tell he wasn’t actually watching. He had a vacant, distressed look on his face. His jaw was clenched and his eyes were glassy, as though he was grappling with some important internal matter.

  When he heard Melody approach, he immediately shut off the television.

  “I shouldn’t have done that, and I shouldn’t have said what I did,” he told her apologetically before she could get a word out. He looked guilty, as though he knew he’d screwed up big time. “I’m sorry about the way I acted.”

  “Me too,” she said, relief washing over her when she saw he wasn’t angry with her. She crossed the living room and sat on the couch, perching precariously on the edge. She leaned forward and q
uietly said, “I’m sorry I used the safe word. I got scared.”

  Zane reached out then to stroke the side of her face with his free hand. “Don’t ever apologize for using your safe word,” he told her gently. “That’s what it’s for. I shouldn’t have even done that without talking to you about it first,” he admitted. “Sometimes I forget you’re new to all this, just because you’re such a natural. It was my mistake.”

  “Can we start over?” she asked hopefully.

  He cocked his head to the side and looked at her thoughtfully. “What do you have in mind?”

  “I don’t know,” she said sheepishly. She still felt like crying, but overall she felt slightly less devastated by what had happened. Zane had acted like a jerk, yes. But he had also apologized almost immediately. That had to count for something, didn’t it?

  “Oh, but I think you do know,” Zane insisted. He polished off his beer and set the bottle down on the coffee table. Then he informed her, “I have a feeling you know exactly what you want. Tell me what it is.”

  There was one thing she wanted – one thing she hoped could salvage the evening. She wanted to be wrapped up in Zane’s arms where she felt safe and protected. Her face warm and tingly, Melody smiled shyly. “Can we make love?” she asked hopefully.

  Zane’s face immediately darkened and he pulled his hand away. “No.”

  Melody was crestfallen. His immediate, unequivocal rejection stung worse than a spanking. She had thought her request was a simple one, and she had been certain it was one he would gladly fulfil. But she had been wrong.

  “Oh.” Then, tentatively, Melody asked, “Did I...did I do something wrong?” She hated herself for asking that, feeling as though she had somehow become a pathetic, insecure version of herself she despised. But she couldn’t help it. She had to know.

  He was avoiding eye contact now.

  Melody waited, staring him down. Eventually he would have to crack.

  Instead of answering her, Zane stood up and walked into the kitchen where he retrieved another beer from the fridge. He cracked it open and took a long swig, probably downing half the bottle in one go.