“Good girl.” Gentle fingers caressed the base of her breasts and gradually grew more firm as the stroking turned to kneading. Fingertips skated across her stomach and soothed her inner thighs — his hands practically erasing the sting as they worked across her skin.
The straps at her pussy were manipulated again, with no major changes except perhaps they were a little tighter? Sam wasn't sure.
Sam sealed her lips around his cock and sucked and swirled, wanting to show how much she appreciated his tenderness.
She was on fire, both inside and out, and her hips moved in invitation in spite of the way it made the dildo move. Her pussy ached to be filled.
He massaged her breasts and the muscles around her clit until she was close to an orgasm again, and without warning the slapper slammed her clit again. Sam's mind wanted to turn off and shut down, but her body ramped itself even higher. The slapper came again, and his fingers soothed the muscles around her clit without touching it directly. The slapper hit her inner right thigh, inner left thigh, and exposed clit again, all three strikes landing within two seconds, and she screamed and writhed and felt his cock grow impossibly harder.
Ethan mixed pain and pleasure until Sam didn't know if she was coming or going. She stayed on the edge of an orgasm without finding release, and when he finally let her up and she looked at the clock, it was close to five in the morning.
“Stand beside the bed and lean over it.”
Sam moved into position and allowed him to stretch her hands over her head and lock them to the strap on the other side of the bed. She was a little surprised when she saw the spreader bar, but kept her mouth shut. He attached it to her ankle cuffs and showed her the rattan cane.
“I'm going to stripe you with this and then I'm going to fuck you senseless. I'm not giving you a number. I don't intend to leave bruises or draw blood, but it'll probably feel like it. Do you trust me?”
“Yes, Sir.”
“Good.”
He stepped behind her and the first cut felt like a cut. He was right; she'd have sworn he'd just drawn blood if he hadn't assured her he didn't plan to.
She didn't bother trying to count, but a dozen or so strikes into it she instinctively pushed her ass out, wanting the next cut, craving the lines of fire and the focused sensation as the cane worked from her ass to her thighs, and back up.
By the time his cock drove into her pussy she was so deep in subspace, and so ready to be filled, she had no problems accepting his length or girth. He didn’t take it easy on her, and it was almost too much. Even though he didn’t hit her cervix, his size combined with the speed and depth once again kept her elusive orgasm just out of reach, holding her just on the edge of climax. She wanted to move her legs but the spreader bar kept them in place, and she found herself fighting her bondage as he pounded her from behind.
She could tell when he was close. He lost his rhythm, his breathing grew more ragged, and his hands painfully squeezed her hips as he held her in place.
When at last he sank deep inside her and stopped, Sam’s muscles finally let go around him, shuddering and jerking their own release as her entire body stiffened and her voice came out in a series of deep growls. Ethan reached under her and put pressure on her clit and Sam’s voice rose several octaves, turning into a wail as tremors overtook her body.
When her orgasm waned, Ethan reached down to unhook the spreader bar from her ankle cuffs and lifted her onto the bed, on her side. He spooned behind her, careful not to bump the depth trainer, and ran his hands lovingly from knee, up the sides of her thighs and over the lock at her hip, skimmed across her waist and to her shoulder, down her arm to her hand, and finally rested his hand on her stomach.
Sam’s eyes drifted closed and her world went dark as sleep took her once again, cocooned in the warmth and safety of Ethan’s embrace.
Chapter Five
Sam awakened the next morning to Ethan removing her wrist and ankle cuffs. When he saw her looking at him he said, “You have one task to perform this morning and the scene will be over.”
“I have to pee.” Oh god, had she really just said that? She blinked and added, “Sir. Please.”
“Let me make sure the harness straps are out of the way, roll to your back and spread’em.”
She closed her eyes and groaned as she shifted positions. She wasn’t horny, but he fiddled a little more than was probably necessary, and Sam felt the beginnings of some heat.
“Okay, off to the bathroom with you. Come back quickly, please.”
When Sam returned she saw a metal folding chair with an oval portion cut from the back of the seat. He’d turned the metal edges down and lined them with silver duct tape, and she was pretty sure when she sat on it there would be nothing under her pussy or ass.
“Have a seat Samantha, and scoot all the way back. Careful when you sit, so the dildo goes into the hole.”
The backs of her thighs and the outer portions of her ass cheeks were on the cold metal, but her pussy and the center of her ass hung over empty space and it felt odd.
Ethan unlocked the harness at her hip and worked it loose from the dildo.
“I’m not going to pull it out. I need you to push it out, as if you’re having a bowel movement.”
Sam pushed and her mind rebelled. Her hands flew to cover her face. “Please don’t make me do this.”
He kneeled in front of her and gently pulled her hands away from her face. “There’s a reason, Sam. You’ll be dry after having it in all night. Letting your bowels push it out is safer than one of us pulling. Relax, and let your body expel it.”
“What if something else comes out after the dildo? I won’t know until… I won’t be able to stop it.”
“I don’t think anything will, since you cleaned yourself so thoroughly yesterday, but if it will make you feel better I can put a bucket under the chair, just in case.”
“Please?”
“I’ll be right back. You’re not to reach your hands around and try to pull it out. In fact, I’d like you to rest them on your thighs and keep them there until I return.”
He waited until she complied before kissing her forehead and leaving the room. He must have jogged to the garage and back, because he was only gone a few moments before returning with the car wash bucket.
Sam took a breath and covered her face again before pushing, and felt the dildo begin making its journey out. Last night she was sure it would’ve gone flying out of her asshole if he’d removed the harness, but this morning she had to push to move it. When it finally landed in the bucket with a plop, she opened her eyes. She’d lowered her hands earlier, but hadn’t been able to open her eyes as she pushed.
“Perfect. I’m pleased, Samantha. Stand and give me a hug and we’ll end the scene.”
She buried her head in his chest and let him hold her several long moments before stepping back, adjusting her shoulders, and flexing her fists.
Ethan stepped back and said, “Do you want to take a shower while I make breakfast? Tell me what you want, and I’ll make it.”
Sam considered a few minutes and finally said, “Go ahead and make yourself something. I’ll just do protein shakes today so I don’t have to go through another huge cleanout this evening. I’ll get a shower and get dressed, what time were you thinking we’d have our talk?”
“Judging by the way you’re still flexing your hands, I’d say you’ll want to do a few rounds with the bag downstairs, first?”
Sam circled her shoulders, squeezed her hands into fists again, and nodded. “Yeah, I think you’re probably right. I should do that before my shower, actually.” She walked into her closet and gathered yoga pants, an exercise bra, and loose tee. Ethan didn’t follow her in, but stood so he could see her as they talked.
“What kind of shake do you want? I’ll go ahead and get it mixed for you, so you can drink it before you get started.”
“Banana Cream, please — one scoop in about ten ounces of water so I don’t fill my stomach to
o much. How cold is it out? I may want to do a five mile run after I attack the bag.”
“Want company on your run?”
“Yeah, sure.”
Ethan brought Sam’s protein shake as she finished pulling her hair into a ponytail. She drank it on the way downstairs, and only stopped in the kitchen long enough to rinse her glass and put it in the dishwasher. A growl escaped her throat as she slid the top rack out — all of her glasses were lined up by type on the outer edge, and her bowls perfectly aligned down the center. She closed the top rack and pulled the bottom one. Her plates were in one line, saucers in another. It certainly didn’t look like this last night when she cleaned up after making her salad; Sam never paid attention to where she placed things in the dishwasher, other than to be sure plastic items landed on the top rack, and the sharp knives at the back of the silverware holder so she didn’t cut herself.
Ethan was in the other room, but she made a mental note to ask him about it later, and she headed downstairs to attack her heavy training bag.
By the time Sam was ready to run, her feet and hands felt appropriately battered. She and Ethan ran in relative silence, traveling up the hill and past the art museum, running across the river on the pedestrian bridge, returning on the Veteran’s bridge, and venturing around some of the tourist district before finally returning to the house. Sam’s thighs screamed in protest as she climbed the steps to her bathroom.
She started to grab her Kindle to get some work done while soaking, but changed her mind and lay catatonic in the warm bathwater with the jets going and the heater on to keep the water scalding.
When she finally made it downstairs Ethan was on his laptop in her den, and she kissed his forehead as she passed him. She made a chocolate protein shake with a spoonful of peanut butter and plopped down on the sofa across from him. The first sip brought back memories of her fifth grade teacher, who’d given out Reese’s cups for students who went above and beyond. The couple sat in silence a few moments as Sam savored her shake and Ethan worked.
“Thanks for giving me some space. I’m ready to talk now, I think.”
Sam’s heart fluttered as Ethan’s gaze rose and a smile lit his face. He nodded to the coffee table. “I printed off the agreement, if you want to read through it and make notes.” He gestured to his laptop and added, “If I can have another ten minutes here I can finish what I’m working on, and then I’m all yours.”
They were both wearing jeans and tees, and anyone looking in on them wouldn’t have thought anything odd about a couple hanging out together on a Saturday, unless they read over her shoulder.
Sam used the pen Ethan had thoughtfully placed with the contract to make her own notes, and when she made it to the end she looked up to see Ethan watching her, his laptop open on the table between them.
“You didn’t write this.”
He smiled. “I wrote a version of it, and asked an attorney friend in the lifestyle to reword it for me.”
“Why?”
He shrugged. “I had some contract law classes in college, enough so I can hold my own if necessary, but I wanted you to see it as more…official?”
Did he think she’d blow it off if the wording wasn’t exactly right? No, she didn’t think so. She looked at him a few seconds, debating whether to push for a better answer. Finally, she said, “I try hard to look at the intention of your instructions, and not hold you to the letter of exactly what’s said. If I truly misunderstand it’s different, but if I know what you mean, that’s what I go with.”
“Are you upset at my having someone else re-write it?”
“Not upset, just…” She shook her head. “I want to be sure you don’t feel as if you need another attorney in order to come to an agreement with me. I mean, this is only important to you and me. No judge is ever going to see it, so there’s no reason the wording has to be legally acceptable. Have I made you feel you need help to get me to follow our agreements?”
Ethan stood and walked to her, dropped onto the sofa and pulled her into his arms in one motion. “I didn’t intend to give that impression. I thought it would impress you; I had no idea you’d see it in a bad light, but I can see why you do. I’m sorry. You’ve never made me feel like I was at a disadvantage in our negotiations.”
Sam pulled back to look at him, and raised her body off the sofa to kiss his cheek. Plopping back into the seat, she said, “No need to apologize; I just needed to know why. Thanks for making the effort to get it right, but since your fiancée is an attorney you can always ask her to do it, you know?” She hugged him again and then pushed at his chest. “Now, back to your side of the room so we can negotiate. No way can I think straight with your arms around me.”
Ethan chuckled and kissed her forehead before moving to the sofa across from her again. He pulled his laptop back into his lap. “Okay, I’ll make changes here as we negotiate, and you can do a final read through before we finalize it.”
“I’ve already agreed to most of this: wearing the anal ring a total of forty-five minutes a day, at least two hours apart, at least five minutes per insertion. It sounds like you’ll be in charge of it on the weekends and it could be longer?”
He nodded. “We’ll move to larger rings on Fridays, and I’ll work you enough over the weekend so you’ll be ready to put them in yourself by Monday morning.”
“I have some concerns over the wording about the monster plug you had me sit on. I have to be able to go a half inch farther every Friday night, or accept one stroke of the stainless cane for every eighth of an inch I’m short? That seems like a lot.”
“The plug is a gradual spread, so a half inch farther down is about an eighth of an inch larger diameter. We need to spread you about an inch and a quarter wider than you are now, which means it will take sixteen weeks to get there an eighth of an inch at a time.”
He ran his hand over the top of his head and added, “Remember, you’ll be stretching the muscles inside, and your body will be creating more skin and longer muscles as we go. I fully expect you’ll have a few days you’ll need to back off a size in order to fulfill your obligations, and I need to trust your judgment on what you can take without causing damage. The guideline of stretching at least an eighth of an inch a week is to make sure you stay on target to be ready by our honeymoon.”
Sam crossed out her objections and continued. “Thank you for the provision taking away my safeword for punishments.”
He nodded. “You’re agreeing to those specific consequences. If there’s a problem I’m not aware of, you’ll need to state the problem.”
“I don’t see my arms falling asleep as being a problem for less than a dozen strokes of the cane, but I understand your meaning.”
“The most you’ll get is six.”
Sam shook her head. “If I fail again two days later the total is two strokes for every eighth of an inch, and in another two days it grows to three. I don’t see myself not gaining anything at all, but there’s no guarantee the most will be six strokes.”
He tilted his head. “And you’re agreeing to this, without a safeword?”
She shrugged. “You have caveats about giving consideration if I’m sick or have a valid reason for not reaching the goal. I trust you’ll be fair, so yeah.”
Turning the page to the strengthening section, she cringed inwardly and said, “You never told me how long I lasted.”
“With the marbles and anal beads?” His smile was lovingly sadistic as he said, “You made it just shy of twelve minutes, which means you can speak while under speech restrictions five times with no consequences. I’ll print five coupons, and you’ll need to give one to me each time you speak.”
The contract said he would start her at eleven and a half minutes, and the consequences for losing more than half of the marbles or beads within two minutes of goal were the standard single strike with the stainless cane, twenty strokes of the bicycle inner tube flogger to her breasts, or sixteen lashes to her inner thighs with a belt. Losing more than h
alf from both places meant accepting two consequences, and for every two minutes she fell short, everything doubled.
“If I only last five minutes, and lose from both holes, that could mean the belt hits my inner thighs sixty-four times, or I’d have to take sixty strikes of the rubber flogger to my breasts?” She shook her head. “I don’t agree to that.”
“What makes you think you’d drop so soon?”
“What if I sneeze? Or if I’m sore from doing it several days in a row and my muscles just can’t hold on? I held until it hurt, hoping to get as many opportunities to speak as possible!”
“If you sneeze I’ll give you time to rest and let you start again. I intend to do this three times a week with at least one day in between, so I don’t foresee sore muscles being an issue.” He shrugged and added, “But if they are we’ll discuss it and figure out an acceptable time.”
Sam gnawed on her lower lip, thinking it over, and finally said, “I want a once a week option to do it in two tries instead of one. If I lose too many the time stops while you reinsert, and then starts again from where it was.”
He considered her words a few seconds before nodding and making the changes on his laptop.
Sam turned to the depth training section. It wasn’t very detailed, but was the part Sam had the most problems with. She took a breath and used her best negotiator voice to say, “I won’t agree to sleep in the long dildo.”
Ethan looked up, obviously surprised. Sam remained quiet, and Ethan finally said, “What do you propose instead?”
“It hurt the last couple of hours, and when it came out, all the lube was gone. You have me sleeping in it three times a week, what if I wear it two hours at a time, five times a week?”
His eyebrows drew into a frown. “You’ll be in it less than half the time I’d planned.”
Sam was tempted to tell him to stuff it up his own ass, but instead took a calming breath and said, “You intend to go a half inch deeper every Saturday. If I can’t keep up with your schedule we’ll increase the number of times, but I really don’t want it in for longer than two hours without it being relubed.”
Safeword: Matte - In Training Page 5