Safeword: Matte - In Training

by Candace Blevins

  Sam turned from her parents so they wouldn’t see her blush. “Well, okay. If you insist.”

  “I do. Call me later?”

  “Yeah.” It was hard not call him Sir, but he’d never expect her to do so in front of her parents.

  When the pictures arrived Sam beamed them from her phone to her parent’s smart TV. She pointed out who was who, including cousins, aunts, and uncles. Her mom was silent as Sam and her dad talked.

  Finally, her mom said, “I’m sorry if I overreacted.” Sam noted her mother didn’t admit to overreacting, just said if she did, she was sorry. But, it was the best she was likely to get from her mother, and Sam had long ago learned to take what she could get.

  “I meant what I said about you not hurting their feelings,” Sam responded, working hard to keep her voice level and patient. “Don’t mention their race at all. Don’t try to convince them you aren’t racist; don’t tell them you like them even though they’re black. Just don’t bring it up. See them as humans, not as different. Please.”

  “Won’t it be like the elephant in the living room?”

  “No, mom. They know they aren’t white; if you bring it up you’re only telling them you have a problem with it. People who truly see others for the person they are inside don’t think of assuring people they like them even though they aren’t white.”

  Her mom bit her lip, still obviously conflicted. “They all work for a living, and most of them dress normal in the pictures?”

  “His parents and grandparents, yes. But you need to be prepared for some of his cousins to…” There was no way to say it nice, and Sam resented her mom for making her explain. She threw her hands up and said, “Crap, mom, they aren’t going to fit into your version of acceptable. They aren’t bad, they don’t do drugs, and they don’t expect society to support them, but they go to school in Atlanta and they don’t necessarily use proper English. Okay?”

  “Don’t you curse at me, young lady.”

  “I said crap, not shit. Get a grip.”

  Her dad stepped forward and spoke in his that’s enough voice. “Both of you take a breath. Sam’s frustrated, Martha. And you’ve said some things she has every right to be upset over.” He looked at Sam. “Give your mom a little time to get used to the idea. When are we going to meet his family?”

  “His grandmother will be here in two days. The five of us are supposed to have dinner, and then she and mom were going to spend the next day working on wedding stuff together.”

  “Okay. We’ll talk tomorrow, and will see you the next day for dinner.” He looked to his wife. “Right, Martha?”

  “Yes. Sure.”

  Sam left their house without slamming the door behind her, but closed her car door harder than necessary, and backed up faster than she should. When she reached the end of her parents’ road she called Ethan.

  “I know we hadn’t planned on it, but is it okay if I spend the night tonight?”

  “Of course. Everything all right?”

  “I…no. Yes. I mean, we’re okay, but my mom and I had words.”

  “Want to talk about it?”

  “Yes, but not until I get there.”

  “Okay. Have you eaten?”

  “No, have you?”

  “Yeah, but I have leftovers, your choice of pizza or Chinese.”

  “Spicy eggplant, by chance?”

  “Yep.”

  * * * *

  When Sam arrived, Ethan had a rope tossed over the rafter in the main room, with his gymnastics rings on the ends. His body was horizontal as he did pushups in mid-air, and Sam watched through the screen door for several long moments, admiring his physique and brute strength. He made the first couple of dozen seem easy, but once he began straining, his muscles were truly a thing of beauty.

  When he finally let himself down Sam came in. “You could charge for people to watch, if you ever need extra income.”

  He grinned, “What, video it and put it on online?”

  “I kind of like having you all to myself. But, yeah. I’m sure you’d get tons of hits.”

  She walked to him for a hug and he stepped back. “I’m sweaty.”

  “I don’t care. I need a hug.”

  He wrapped his arms around her and she wrapped hers around his neck before looping her legs around his waist and lifting her body until they were eye level. She put her head on his shoulder and relaxed her hold, knowing he wouldn’t let her fall.

  “Something’s really bothering you.”

  “You know how much I love you.”

  “Yeah, and you’re worrying me. What’s up?”

  “I didn’t lie to you when you asked why I wanted the pictures, but I didn’t tell you the whole truth, either.”

  His body tensed slightly. “You told your parents my family isn’t all cookie-cutter white?”

  “Yeah. My dad took it in stride, but my mom kind of freaked. It isn’t even about you and your family as much as it’s about her future grandkids, I think.”

  “If you and I ever get around to having kids, I won’t let anyone come near who’ll treat them as less than perfect. Once they’re grown they can fight their own battles, but while they’re forming their own self-image and sense of worth, I won’t let anyone make them feel inferior.” He didn’t sound pissed, just matter-of-fact, but Sam had no doubt he meant every word.

  “I’m right there with you. I told her if she didn’t get her act together she’d never see her grandkids.”

  He let his breath out and relaxed. “Well, if we’re both in agreement on that, we can work through anything else that comes up.”

  “What if she says something she shouldn’t to your family? I don’t think she’ll be intentionally rude, but I can easily see her trying to explain to them how she isn’t racist, and pretty much telling them she is by her denials.”

  Ethan leaned back. “Look at me, Sam.”

  When their gazes met he said, “My family has dealt with racism before — both overt and passive. They aren’t going to think less of you for it, and they’ll have no problems handling your mom. None of them will be belligerent, but most are pretty good at responding with very polite statements carrying a ton of impact.”

  Sam rested her head on his shoulder again. “She’s shallow enough that hearing about their jobs seems to have calmed her down some. I think she’ll be okay with your parents and grandparents, but she’s probably going to look down her nose at Justin.”

  “Justin can handle himself, too.” Ethan chuckled. “You haven’t met Justin’s twin, Dustin. He’ll be here for the wedding, and the two of them side-by-side are a trip. Dustin’s a lieutenant-colonel in the Marines, and his super clean military look next to all of Justin’s tattoos and gangsta haircut and clothes is amusing.”

  “He couldn’t get away for his grandparent’s anniversary?”

  Ethan shook his head. “He was on a mission. He’s some kind of special forces, but he won’t comment on it when we ask, so we aren’t really sure what he does.”

  Sam laughed. “Can anyone in your family join the military or fire department without going to the top of the hierarchy?”

  Ethan walked to the kitchen area and sat her on the counter. “Doesn’t look like it.” He pulled a container from the refrigerator, pulled the lid off, and popped it into the microwave as he asked, “Should we tell her ahead of time that Justin’s an MIT graduate who works with high level artificial intelligence, or let Justin tell her?”

  “He wasn’t in any of the pictures you sent, so I didn’t mention it. Honestly, I want things to be as stress free and friendly as possible, but I’d also like to teach her a lesson about judging people based on skin color and dress.”

  “Let’s go for social and friendly, and not try to teach any lessons at our wedding. Shall we?”

  Sam sighed. “Sure. But she really pissed me off.”

  “Something I’ve learned from watching my family, is the white half of the couple tends to get more indignant than the person actual
ly being disparaged. My grandfather George would be ready to pummel someone for putting Grams down, but Grams would just change the subject in some way that showed she was better than whoever had just said something. If someone ever mentions my skin color or heritage in a negative way, let me handle it, okay?”

  “Even if it’s my family?”

  “Yes, even if it’s your family.” He stroked her cheek. “I appreciate you being upset with them on my behalf, and if you thought it was no big deal,” he shrugged, “it would bother me.” He kissed her on the cheek and walked to the microwave. “You’ve always seen me for who I am. Even in the backstage hallway at the arena the first time we met, you weren’t intimidated by my size even though you’d just seen me in the cage. You’ve never acted afraid of me, never treated me as less, or in any way different. When I told you my family wasn’t all white, you didn’t flinch or react at all. It was obviously not important, not a deciding factor in your opinion of me as a person.”

  “I told my mom tonight I’d be in love with you even if you were all black, because it’s who you are that’s important, not the color of your skin.”

  He smiled. “And I believe you.”

  “Yeah, I think she did too, even though she doesn’t really understand.”

  He handed her the Chinese food and a fork and she said, “Thanks for feeding me.”

  “Not a problem. You’re going to need your energy later.”

  Sam’s insides ignited at the promise, and she crossed her right leg over her left as she put the first bite in her mouth. “Mmmm, this is so good.”

  He grinned as he pulled a carafe of water with lemons from the fridge and poured her a glass. “Now you’re just teasing me with your moans. That’s okay, I’ll pull all the moans from you I want to hear. Later.”

  Sam looked outside wistfully. “I don’t suppose it’s a good idea to go for a run after dark up here.”

  “Not without streetlights or sidewalks. If you want to burn some energy I can show you a simple routine on the rings.”

  “Or you could turn on the backyard spotlights and spar with me.”

  “I think we can work something out. Do you want a fight, or just a spar?”

  “Just a spar, unless you want more.”

  “No. Why don’t I wear some focus pads so you can go all out on me?”

  “Would you?”

  “You bet.”

  Ethan let her go all out, and managed to get the pads in front of her punches enough she stopped worrying about hurting him and punched at full strength. When she finally collapsed on the lawn he pulled the mitts off, gathered her in his arms, and carried her inside.

  She watched from the chair in his room as he turned the water on to fill the large tub, and wondered again how she’d got so damned lucky. Ethan was her everything, and while the thought scared the shit out of her, she wasn’t willing to run from him to escape how much she needed him in her life. She would never become her mother, unable to go to the kitchen in the middle of the night without someone to go with her. If anything ever happened to her father, Sam had no idea how her mom would function. The woman had no idea of what bills they owed, much less how to pay them. Her dad kept her mom’s car filled with gas, set the alarm clock, and even made sure her favorite shows were recorded. Sam could never be happy with the knowledge she couldn’t take care of herself, but her mom bragged about it, as if having someone to take care of her basic needs because she couldn’t was something to aspire to.

  “What are you thinking about so seriously?”

  Sam shook her head. “Do you think I’m as independent as I am because my mom is so damned dependent?”

  “It’s a possibility, but I think maybe you’re independent because your dad raised you to be.”

  Ethan grasped the bottom of Sam’s tee and gently lifted it. Sam cooperated by raising her arms so he could pull it off. She was wearing an undershirt instead of a bra, and he pulled it off before standing her up and removing her capri pants.

  “So, this tiny cabin has a huge tub in here and a hot tub outside because it’s a vacation rental?”

  “Yep. Master James owns several of these, and he gave me a good deal to rent it long term since he knew I wouldn’t trash it.” Grinning, he added, “He also told me the support beam across the top was strong enough to handle suspension play.”

  “And working out with gymnastics rings?”

  “He didn’t bring that up. C’mon, let’s get in the tub. We’ll put your plug in when we get out.”

  * * * *

  When they finished their bath Ethan decided it might be a good idea to take a final measurement, just to be sure Sam hadn’t lost any ground since he’d decided she was ready for their honeymoon.

  Sam tried to argue she was still using the same size stretching ring, but Ethan was determined to see where she was.

  “Hands and knees on the bed,” he said as he stretched a glove onto his right hand.

  Sam opened her mouth to argue again, saw the look in his eyes, and closed it. She looked down as she walked to the bed, because if she glared at him too much longer he’d decide they needed to discuss it, and it'd be one of those conversations almost guaranteed to end with discipline.

  He fingered her pussy a few seconds before sticking two fingers in her ass, and she grunted at the stretch and focused on relaxing. Two fingers wasn’t a big deal, she just hadn’t expected him to poke them in without finesse.

  “I’m sorry I argued, Sir.”

  “Good to hear.” He added another finger and she arched her back more, hoping to show him she wanted to please him. He’d spent a great deal of time training her to keep her back arched when she was being used, as she’d had a habit of bowing up like an angry cat when she came, and he’d been most displeased when she made him come out of her while he was taking her from behind.

  His other hand patted her bottom in approval and he removed his fingers only to wedge the ring into her ass as if it were nothing at all — no big deal. In truth, she handled it multiple times a day now, and it wasn’t a huge deal, but it should be. She’d had to work so hard to be able to take it, it just seemed as if there should be some kind of ceremony around it. She supposed there would be, kind of, when he finally fucked her ass, but still. It just seemed so perfunctory, today.

  He removed the glove, tossed it in the trash, and set the timer on his phone.

  When he returned to her, he scrutinized her a few seconds before casually brushing his fingers through her folds. “Let’s see how much control you’ve acquired while something’s in your ass. Shall we?”

  Sam wasn’t a fan of denial training, so she chose to stay quiet instead of answering. Ethan slid a finger in, then another, and stroked in and out. She was so wet, and his fingers found the perfect combination of friction, speed, and stretch. In less than a minute she was in a panic as an orgasm was bearing down on her like a runaway freight train, and she wasn’t sure she’d be able to hold it back. Something about having her ass spread wide when he played with her pussy made it practically impossible to keep from coming.

  “Sir, I don’t think I’m going to be able to stop it. Please! I’m trying!”

  “And I don’t intend to let up. You’ve made a lot of progress, but your control still isn’t very dependable, is it?”

  His fingers kept the same rhythm, same pressure, same everything, and Sam felt her muscles beginning to move. She jerked forward, landed on her stomach, and rolled over so he came out of her.

  “I’m sorry, Sir!”

  He didn’t look pleased. “I believe you’re sorry, but you know what has to happen next, yes?”

  Sam wanted to kick herself. “I’ll be punished for moving, and then we start denial training again.”

  Ethan nodded, stepped to his large armoire, and returned with the meanest rubber flogger. “On your back, feet flat on the bed beside your ass, spread your knees wide and stick your pussy up in the air.”

  He waited until she was in position and said,
“I expect you to stay in place for twelve strokes. If your knees move closer together than your shoulder width, or if you drop your ass to the bed, we start the count over.”

  The first time they’d done this, Sam had lost track of how many lashes she took before she finally managed to keep her legs apart and her bottom in the air. It was so hard to offer her pussy up for the cruel lashes to her most sensitive parts.

  She nearly lost control on the ninth lash. Her knees came together a little, and it was close enough she had to wait for his nod and the count of ten the next time his hand slashed the cruel strands against her pussy, before she was sure she’d hadn’t just blown it.

  When the final strike finally tore into her, Sam strained to hold the position until he verbally released her.

  His fingers spread her lips to examine her, and he made a compassionate sound and said, “So red and inflamed. I tell you what, scoot up the bed a little and lie back, and we’ll see if I can’t make it feel better.”

  Ethan took his time licking the sore spots until Sam’s hips began their small involuntary movements. He inserted one finger and crooked it towards the front of her body, dragging across her g-spot as his tongue teased the sides of her clit.

  Just when she thought she might be able to keep enough control to stay out of trouble, he added a finger and her body soared into bliss, and she barely managed to keep the orgasm at bay.

  “Please, Sir! I don’t think I can hold it back!”

  He lifted his head and said, “If you come without permission I’ll spread your pussy lips open with clothespins and give you fifty strokes with the squid whip.”

  The threat both terrified her, and drove her closer to the edge. She begged again, “Just give me a few seconds to regain control! Please!”

  “It’s not my job to make sure you don’t come. It’s your responsibility. It’s your body. If you aren’t in control of your own body, who is?”