No Safeword: Matte - Happily Ever After (Safewords) (24 page)

She sucked in a stuttered breath. More tears leaked from her eyes and trailed down her cheeks.

“Okay,” he relented, “keep talking. Say what you want to say.”

“I want to beg you to take me off. You’ve proved you won’t back down and I’ve learned my lesson, but I know you can’t take me off sooner than you’d planned. It won’t do any good to beg, but I want to anyway.
God
, Sir. It hurts so bad!”

Miraculously, Ethan’s cock began to fill. He leaned down to kiss her forehead, then her nose. “You’re going to be here a while.”

He’d learned how to relieve the muscles in and around her shoulder, and he took the time now to massage her neck, and then work down both sides of her spine, though he had to work around the rope harness.

Sam continued to lean forward, sit up straight, and then lean back as she relieved one area only to torture another.

Her tears stopped after around five minutes, though her moans and yelps of pain continued.

There were still some clothespins on the bondage table, and he retrieved them and began applying them at random to her breasts. He left her nipples alone, and when he ran out of clothespins he walked to the wall and pulled the clover clamps out of the drawer.

Sam opened her mouth to say something, but seemed to think better of it, and slowly brought her lips back together.

“You have permission to speak. I’d like to hear what you almost said.”

“I was going to beg you not to, Master, but I have no right.”

His cock pulsed under his shorts, and he palmed it a few seconds to be sure she saw it. “Oh, I think I’d like to hear you beg, Samantha darling.”

* * * *

Sam had never hurt so bad in her life, and Ethan was about to add to her torment. What had made her think he’d wuss out and not punish her properly? He’d already proven he could restrain her without hurting her shoulder. She may be a broken toy, but he was finding ways to play with her, anyway.

The one and only time she’d deliberately disobeyed an order and chosen to do what she wanted in spite of his instructions was long before he’d asked her to marry him. Ethan had punished her intensely for
days
, and then cracked down hard on the rules for weeks. She’d resolved to never again do an in-your-face defiance, but she’d needed to know he could still Master her.

Apparently, he was still up to the task. 

She was pretty sure he didn’t intend to keep her on the horse for six hours, but just as certain it was probably going to be longer than an hour.

She’d already accepted the pain and tried to stop fighting it. However, the addition of the clothespins made it so much harder.

She yelled and screamed when the first clover clamp went on, and did so even more for the second. “Please don’t, Sir. It’s too much, I can’t handle it!”

“You should’ve thought of that before deliberately hiding your arousal so you could have an orgasm when you knew you didn’t have permission. I’m the one who decides what you can handle, not you.”

“Yes, Master, I know, but…” She stopped herself mid-sentence. He knew it hurt, complaining about it wouldn’t change his mind.

She tried to beg with her eyes, but he walked behind her. His footsteps went to the wall, stayed there a moment, and slowly returned. She wanted to twist around to see what he’d retrieved, but it hurt too much to move.

The first strike to her thigh had her yelping and jumping, and the pain to her already bruised groin just added to the insult of the razor strop.

He stepped to her side and delivered nine more strikes to the top of her left thigh, and then made his way around the horse and delivered ten strokes to her right thigh. He never struck the front of her thighs during play, only for punishment or consequences, and her tears began again, as much because he was displeased with her as the excruciating torment of the wooden horse.

Her aching pussy was on fire, every nerve ending in her clit screamed and pulsed, and her poor asshole felt as if it must be bleeding from the stretching and pulling it’d received as she rocked from one sensitive area to the next.

Almost as bad, her thighs were shaking and exhausted from the hundreds of times she’d managed to lift a portion of her weight off her crotch for a few precious seconds. Her ab muscles felt as if she’d been doing planks for the past hour, and her whole body was just
tired
.

Ethan had been beyond kind to massage her muscles earlier, but now he seemed to want to make it harder.

Her eyes flew open as her nipples were pulled away from her body. Ethan was holding the chain between the clamps, slowly pulling them, millimeter by millimeter. The pressure on the clamps grew and she knew they weren’t going to fly off anytime soon. She rolled onto her clit and leaned forward in an effort to relieve the pressure on her nipples, and Ethan’s sadistic smile made her heart skip a few beats.

He dropped the chain and stepped to the other side of the spanking bench, and she noted his glance at his phone, propped up so she couldn’t see the face.

There was no longer a wall clock in the playroom. Ethan had decided he could always turn his phone towards her if he wanted her to watch the time, so she had no idea how long she’d been on the horse, and apparently wasn’t going to know, either.

He lifted the rubber flogger and walked back to her. “You know what happens next, yes?”

She nodded. “You’re going to flog the clothespins and clamps off, Master.”

* * * *

Sam thought it may’ve been hours since he’d last paid attention to her. He was stretched out on the bondage table, his attention focused on his tablet. He looked up to check on her frequently, but she was no longer allowed to speak and he hadn’t said anything for a long time.

She continued to rock back and forth, occasionally pushing up on her legs. She could only hold a portion of her weight off the wood for a count of ten or fifteen before her thighs and knees gave out and she had to slowly sink back down onto the hard wood.

She rotated her hips to put more pressure on her ass, but quickly rolled to her perineum. As she moved it felt as if needles were being shoved into her, but staying still was no better.

Her pubic bone and labia had gone numb for a while, but felt as if they were on fire now. The bruising had to be terrible, and it felt as if she added another layer of bruises every time she moved,
and
every time she stayed still longer than five or ten seconds. Her clit was a blazing mass of agony when she didn’t have her weight on it, and when she rolled forward? It was too much, but the tissues around her pussy and ass could only take so much.

The ropes kept her from falling off the horse, but she still had to work to keep her balance lest her wavering cause even more pain to her brutalized groin. The endless effort to stay upright, the relentless shifting of pain from ass, to perineum, to pussy, to clit — it was a marathon ordeal, and one she wasn’t sure she could survive.

Not to mention, she needed to pee.

“Master?” she said meekly.

“Is there something I need to know?” He didn’t sound angry, and she hoped she’d made the right decision.

“I need to use the bathroom, please.”

He looked under her, thought about it, and nodded. “Give me a minute.”

He spread a plastic drop cloth under the horse, and then settled a five-gallon bucket directly beneath her.

Without saying another word, he returned to the bondage table and went back to whatever he was doing on his tablet.

Sam pushed forward and once again smashed her clit into the wood, took a breath, and rocked back slowly as she put pressure on her thighs and lifted a few pounds of her weight away from the beam under her ass. It’d taken a while to find the right balance to put the least amount of pressure on her thighs as possible while giving herself a little relief. She tried to relax and pee, but soon discovered it was impossible while pressing her weight onto her thighs.

She tried not to start crying again as she slowly let herself down and the bones around her asshole once again pressed her bruised and tender flesh into the harsh wood of the pony. She leaned back, relaxed, and finally managed to get the stream to flow.

It took forever for her bladder to empty, and no matter the pain on her asshole, she didn’t dare roll forward until she finished. When the flow finally stopped she straightened her body and gasped as the wood once again spread her lips and pressed into raw skin and nerves. Her inner and outer labia felt bruised, as did the ultra-sensitive mucous membranes of her pussy.

When she could no longer bear to have weight on her pussy, she rolled forward again and groaned as her pubic bone crunched the battered nerves and tissue into the wood. She arched her back as much as possible and tried to make it to the front part of her clit to relieve the pressure on the fattest portion, but she’d already learned it was hopeless. Relief was impossible.

The rope running through the harness at her back only allowed her to roll so far forward, but she could rest more muscles in this position than any other. She grunted and accepted the pain on her clit, knowing it was the only way to temporarily escape the unyielding board digging farther and farther in to her pussy, perineum, and asshole.

And so it went, for what seemed hours and hours. The pain altered from hot, to burning, to numb, and back to burning. At times there was a fiery tingle, at times it was an icy burn. But she hurt every second. Every breath.

She’d defied him, and now she was paying.

She looked at Ethan, and he looked up from his tablet. Their gazes locked for several long moments, and Sam hoped she was showing him her pain, but also her love and devotion, and her sorrow for having challenged him.

“Do you need to say something?”

She started to nod, but realized he was asking if she needed to tell him about a problem. She shook her head and he looked back to his tablet. He’d put his shorts back on so she couldn’t see his cock, but had a feeling it was soft.

He must have been finishing something on the tablet, because within a few seconds he stood, walked to her, and leaned down to examine her pussy.

“Roll back as far as you can, please.”

She groaned as she followed his orders, and held until he rose to look at her face. “You’re holding up okay, I think. You’ll tell me if your shoulder causes problems?”

He had to be fucking kidding! She was
not
holding up okay. But, she didn’t argue, only nodded, and even managed a weak smile when he kissed her forehead. “I’m going to use the restroom. I won’t be gone long, but yell if you need me.”

He took the bucket of pee with him and brought it back empty. He settled it under her and then applied nipple clamps once again — not as cruel as the clovers, but more painful than the wooden clothespins.

Sam screamed and moaned, but didn’t beg.

“Are you thirsty?”

She nodded, and he pulled a water bottle from the mini-fridge, put a straw in it, and held it to her mouth.

She drank the entire bottle, but shook her head when he asked if she wanted more. She didn’t want to have to use the bucket again.

When next she started crying it was as much from exhaustion as pain. Her entire lower body hurt, and she felt as if the bruising went from her labia, through her body, all the way to her hip bones.

It seemed another hour passed, but it could have been a mere fifteen minutes when Ethan once again stood and walked to her. He turned his phone so she could see the face, and saw it set on a timer at thirty minutes.

“You’re going to watch the final thirty minutes. I’m going to torture you for the last ten, so while you wait the first twenty minutes you can look forward to coming off the horse, but know I’m going to use the belt and cane on your thighs, probably the squid on your breasts.”

He touched a button and it started counting down. She watched it for two full minutes before closing her eyes to shut it out. Watching the time was worse than not knowing.

* * * *

When he finally took her off the horse, he warned her as he walked her back to the bondage table. “The scene isn’t over and you don’t have permission to speak.”

Sam wanted nothing more than to collapse with a bag of ice on her crotch, but knew better than to argue with his no-nonsense tone of voice. Especially when she was already in the midst of a major punishment.

He put her on her back, ordered her to grab her ankles and spread her legs, and looked her over. She recognized the jar he brought back from the shelf as the coconut oil he’d laced with cinnamon, and she whined in protest but he ignored it.

She was already on fire, and he started above her clit and worked it into her skin until he reached her pussy. Thankfully, he stopped at two fingers inside of her pussy, but she was so bruised and swollen his two fingers seemed twice the size of his cock.

She had to clamp her mouth shut when he made it to three fingers in her ass, and when he took his shorts off to reveal a raging hard-on, she opened her mouth and stuck her tongue out, hoping he’d use her mouth, but knowing he probably wouldn’t.