No Safeword: Matte - the Honeymoon (15 page)

He untied the rope from the center of the spreader
bar and gently helped her stand – sling and all. Her wrists slid up the
supports as she stood, and slid some more when he lifted her at the waist and
shifted her forward until the shins of her spread legs touched the supports.

The rope he’d just disconnected was tied to the top
of the chin-up bar, but with a good deal of slack.

He didn’t let go of her as he circled behind, and she
felt him tying something to the ropes holding her into the sling.

He tugged her backwards and she resisted, but he
said, “The rope in front will support you. Lean back for me. Trust the ropes.
Trust my knots. Trust me.”

He pulled her back until she could see the wall
behind her, and tied the rope at her shoulder blades to the spreader bar so she
couldn’t stand.

She was off balance, with her hands to her side, her
legs fixed in their spread open position, and the ropes above and below
immobilizing her body between them. Her muscles protested, but she tried to
relax, knowing he wanted to see her submit to him by yielding to the position.

The view in the mirror was upside down, and she
closed her eyes to shut it out.

A loud slapping sound had her eyes flying open, and
the mirror reflected a mat on the floor in front of her. She watched his
reflection kneel before her, saw his mouth headed for her crotch, and closed
her eyes against the disorienting upside-down vision.

His tongue stroked one side of her clit, then the
other. Fingers gently pulled her pussy lips away, and his warm tongue swiped
the sides again.

His face pulled away from her and he said, “If I
can’t get my mouth away to order you to come, I’ll lay my hand flat on your
stomach.” 

His warm hand covered most of her abdomen, and he
held it there as he talked. “When you feel my hand here, it’s an order to
come.”

He withdrew his hand and cool air brushed her heated
skin, and then her pussy lips were gently spread once more, and his tongue
licked long, slow, strokes on either side of her clit without touching it.

She pushed her hips toward him, and realized it made
the position more bearable. Her breaths went from shallow to deep, and she
moaned in frustration.

It took him a while to get her worked up this time,
and she had to help things along by concentrating on the bondage. He’d bound
her so she was available to him, without thought to her comfort. 

Clitoral orgasms were the hardest for her — hardest
to reach, and hardest to control.

When she felt herself growing close, she almost
panicked as she realized she wouldn’t be able to hold onto it until he gave the
order.

However, she needn’t have worried, because he rested
his hand on her stomach seconds later, and her senses imploded.

She didn’t writhe and twist this time, but froze. The
release happened in a completely different place, and didn’t involve her pussy
at all. There were no spasms, no jerking. Just an unwinding, experienced more
as pain than pleasure. Ethan pulled his mouth away and ran both fingers up and
down the sides of her clit, over the hood, to continue the stimulation without
overpowering her senses.

Sam couldn’t breathe, couldn’t move, couldn’t make a
sound. Her body was rigid in the ropes, every muscle tensed and locked as if a
smooth stream of electricity flowed through her body, holding her in perpetual
energy so she couldn’t relax so much as her pinky finger.

When the climax finally released her, she collapsed
backwards into the ropes and harness with her knees bent and no weight on her feet.
Ethan stood and wrapped his arms around her, flipped the quick release at her
back, and pulled her against his chest.

His strong arms held her, supported her, and he
coached her through a dozen breaths before he suggested she might put her feet
on the ground and try standing.

About the time she found her bearings, he leaned her
forward and secured her once again. Too tired to fight it, she let the bondage
hold her.

A finger at her ass reminded her of what came next,
and she moaned a weak protest.

Ethan patted her bottom with his free hand. “Just
relax and let me do the work. How many orgasms have you had this year with
something in your ass?”

“Too many to count, Sir, but I had other stimulation.
Not
just
something in my ass.”

He chuckled. “Someday I’ll wear you out so much you
won’t have the strength to argue. Hush now. No words. Close your eyes and
feel
.”

Sam found she didn’t need to construct a fantasy in
her head for this round. Ethan gradually added more fingers, and when he had
the stretch and friction just right, when she thought she was maybe a minute
away from a huge release, he ordered her to come and her body obeyed.

When her orgasm faded, she wanted more. Instead of
draining her, it spiked her arousal and she thought she’d die if she didn’t feel
pain.

“Sir,” she gasped. “I need pain! Please, Sir!”

“Lucky for you, that’s next on the list. I’ll even
let you decide which implement I should use.”

“Your belt,
please
Sir.”

Her ass ached for the sting, the slice. She wanted
the impact, the sweet, sharp burn of leather against flesh.

Ethan was gone and back in an instant, and he didn’t
make her wait long. Sam knew the truly sadistic thing would be to do
nothing
,
and she was grateful he chose to give her what she wanted.

The first slash came, and she groaned in pleasure and
pressed her ass towards him. He struck across her bottom and the backs of her
thighs, and just when she was ready to beg him for harder and faster, he tore
into her.

The belt landed again and again, with barely a pause,
and she groaned in ecstasy with every contact.

She felt the orgasm coming, wasn’t sure she could
hold it off, and yelled, “Sir, it’s close. Please!”

“Then come for me. Let it go.”

He kept the same rhythm and intensity as Sam began to
thrash around in her bondage. It was too much, but the orgasm took control and
she couldn’t do anything except writhe and gasp, scream and jerk.

As her climax finally waned, Ethan slowed and
stopped. Sam hung limp once again and managed a weak moan of gratitude as
Ethan’s hand caressed her bottom and thighs.

“I think maybe we’ll retire to the bedroom for your
final three orgasms. Let me wash my hands and I’ll get you out of there. Will
you be okay for a few minutes?”

Sam nodded, but he said, “I need to hear it, please.”

“Yes, Sir,” she managed. “I’ll be fine.”

He washed his hands, released her, and carried her
like an infant to the master bedroom.

Sam passively watched as he connected her wrist cuffs
to the headboard, and then wound rope around her bent legs, encasing them from
ankle almost all the way to her knee.

“I’ll give you a choice. You’ll be more comfortable
like this, but if you’d rather I tie your legs open, so you can’t get in
trouble for pulling them together, I can.”

Sam sighed. She hated being forced to choose. “How
about we try it like this, and if I can’t manage, you can tie them open?”

* * * *

By the time she had her final orgasm, Sam felt as if
she needed a nap. Ethan washed his hands, released her, and stretched out
beside her.

She snuggled into his side, and he wrapped his arm
around her. “The rain doesn’t appear to be letting up. How about we order a
pizza before we move onto the next item on the list?”

“What comes next, Sir?”

He didn’t answer, and Sam didn’t ask again. “Do you
want me to place the order?”

“No, I can do it. Lie still and rest.” He kissed her
forehead. “I’ll be back.”

They had pizza in bed, and by the time they finished,
Sam had revived enough to continue.

“The beach is deserted,” Ethan said. “I think it’s
safe to spar in the rain.”

Sam turned and looked out over the desolate shore.
She could barely see the ocean through the pouring rain.

“That may be the case, but I’m not sure I want to go
out there naked.”

Ethan raised an eyebrow and she added, “Sir.”

“That can work in our favor,” Ethan said with a
sadistic smile. “You’re allowed a t-shirt or nightgown, but I’d advise not
wearing something you’ll be upset to see destroyed.”

He nodded towards the door. “I’ll get a few things
set up in here, and will give you a thirty second head start. When I catch you,
I fully intend to take you. I hope you’re lubed at that point, because I won’t
be, and I don’t intend to go easy on you.”

“I’ll need more than thirty seconds to get ready,
Sir.”

“I know,” he nodded. “I’ll need about five minutes to
prepare as well. Nothing starts yet.”

Sam went to her luggage and pulled out a thigh length
nightgown, and then went to the kitchen in search of the coconut oil. She lubed
her pussy well, and then lubed and stretched her ass. They’d be fighting on the
sand, and she worried the sand would stick to the oil, but wasn’t sure how to
avoid it.

A couple of blankets were laid out on the floor of
the bedroom when she returned, and Ethan looked up to say, “I’m almost
finished. How about you?”

Sam nodded and Ethan walked to her and gently lifted
her chin. “You’re much too calm. I’ve learned from experience it’s best if I
give you a reason to fight, a reason to fear me, when we do this.”

Sam’s stomach flip-flopped, but she nodded her head
in agreement. To make it feel real, she had to truly be afraid of what would
happen. The bitch of it was, they both knew he’d win. Whatever he said would
happen, was
going
to happen. All she could do was fight to delay the
inevitable.

“If you don’t knock me down at least once, and land
at least five solid hits or kicks, then when I’m done fucking you in every hole
I’ll put the armbinders on you, clamp your nipples, tie your wrists to the beam
in the great room, put the largest plug in your ass, and thrash your legs while
I make you run in place for thirty minutes or so.”

He moved his fingers from beneath her chin to her
temple, and his palm cupped her cheek. “No safewords, Sam. You’ll fight me, and
I’ll take you, and if you don’t fight me hard enough, you’ll suffer for it
later.”

Sam marveled that he’d found a way to make her fear
him without making the end result inevitable, but she also worried she wouldn’t
manage to do the six things necessary to keep from having to endure his twisted
ending.

“I understand, Sir.” She nodded to the blanket. “Does
this mean you’ll bring me inside to take me?”

“I’ll fuck you wherever I damned well please. You
know how this works.”

She sighed. “I do, Master.”

He kissed her forehead. “And yet you keep asking for
it.”

She started to apologize, to tell him they didn’t
have to do it, but he touched her lips to silence her and said, “Oh no. I love
this. Love the challenge of taking you down and holding you while I take you. I
love having you fight me with such intensity. Every time you hit me, it just
urges me on and makes me want to claim you so much more.”

Sam closed her eyes and nodded. Nothing else needed
to be said.

A finger ran under the shoulder strap of her
nightgown. “This is pretty. Are you sure you want to wear it?”

“I’m not willingly going out there naked. If you
order it, I will, but if I have the option of wearing clothes, I’ll take it.”

“You only have permission for the gown, not for
anything under it.”

“I know, Sir.”

His smile was wicked. “Okay then. I’ll enjoy tearing
it off you.” He ran his finger across his phone’s screen, touched it a few
times, and said, “Your thirty seconds start now.”

Sam hadn’t expected it so soon. She was ready, but
thought they were just talking. She wasted at least three seconds looking at
him before her legs began to move and she raced for the door.

The rain wasn’t cold, but it was a deluge, and she
was soaked before she was four steps out from under the patio covering. The
sand was hard packed and pebbled under her feet, and she made her way towards
the ocean, hoping to get around the brush far enough he couldn’t find her.

She exited the broad pathway onto the wide expanse of
beach and looked left and right. There were more places to hide if she went
right, so she turned left, assuming he’d expect her to go the other way.

She ran forty yards and wished she’d chosen the other
direction. Desperate for a place to hide, she ran into the scrub and ignored
the scratches as she knelt low. Slowly, she peeked out with as little of her
head showing as possible. She didn’t see him, and breathed a sigh of relief. She
needed to wait until he was visible and had run the other direction, and then
she could risk running again.

Within seconds she saw him running towards her, and
her heart sunk as she looked down and saw her footsteps, faint in the sand, yet
still visible if you looked close. Which of course, Ethan was. She’d have been
better off just running and not stopping.

There was no time to try to camouflage her footsteps
now. He’d be to her in a matter of seconds.

Deciding she didn’t want to be cornered, she waited
until he was close and ran out and back towards the house. He’d have to change
directions, which would give her another couple of seconds to come up with a
plan.

She surprised him as she ran by, and made sure she
was far enough away he couldn’t grab her.

The rain pummeled her flesh, her bare feet pounded
the wet sand, and the noise of the cascading rain kept her from hearing how
close Ethan was behind her. She didn’t want to take the time to look, but
needed to know.

A quick glance had her pushing for speed. Out of
options, she made a sharp left, spun on her left foot, and dove at him as he shifted
directions.