No Safeword: Matte - the Honeymoon (5 page)

Sam awakened to the feel of something enveloping her
wrist, and opened her eyes to see Ethan buckling her softest leather cuffs. He
glanced at her to acknowledge he knew she’d awakened, but didn’t say anything
until he’d fastened all four cuffs.

“Use the restroom if you need to, and meet me in the
kitchen. I’ll fix us both a honey and Greek yogurt smoothie before we get
started.”

Thankfully, the smoothie put some energy back into
Sam’s muscles, but she felt she needed to hydrate better. She walked to the
fridge, pulled some sports drink out, and looked at him in what she hoped he’d
understand was her asking permission to drink it.

“I’m about to put you through the ringer, and plan to
offer you small amounts to drink as we go, because I don’t want too much in
your stomach at once. Drink a little if you feel dehydrated. You know what your
body needs, but be aware you’ll probably be doing the equivalent of a five mile
run soon, and I’ll give you eight ounces at a time throughout the day, as I
feel you need it.”

Sam drank a few ounces, let it settle, downed a few
more, and returned the bottle to the refrigerator.

Ethan motioned her to him and pulled her into his
embrace. “Your trust means the world to me, Samantha. I love hearing you call
me Master, but sometimes your silence says more than words.” He looked into her
face. “I love you. Today will be hard mentally as well as physically, but we’re
both ready for me to push you, to give you a challenge.” He kissed her
forehead. “This is it. Use the restroom one last time if you need to, and then
meet me in the great room.”

When Sam came out of the bathroom, rope dangled from
the ceiling beam, and Ethan had donned a pair of shorts. She walked to him and
he attached the quick-release end of the rope to her right wrist cuff, and
pulled the other end until her right arm was stretched high over her head
before knotting it onto her left cuff, so both of her arms were high enough she
almost had to go onto tiptoes.

Without saying a word, he lubed her ass with one
finger, then two, and stepped away to retrieve the second largest training
plug. Her ass was still sore from the enemas and then being thoroughly fucked,
and she shook her head and begged with her eyes, but he merely lifted her by
the hips with his left arm, so she was in the air with her weight on his
forearm as he used his right hand to insert the plug.

She screeched as the widest part stretched her open,
and gave a small scream when it finally slid home and he settled her feet back
on the floor.

“You’ve seen the pony-girls run with their knees
high. Get started.”

Sam looked at him in confusion as it took a few
seconds for her brain to process his words, and she felt a sting to her left
calf muscle. She looked down to see a crop in his hands as he said, “Now,
Samantha. Run in place and pull your knees high with each step.”

Sam grabbed the rope as she lifted first one knee,
and then the other. The plug in her ass shifted with each step, and she felt
her ab muscles engage, as well as her thighs and calves. Within the first dozen
steps her torso stretched, so she could land on her heels and use her entire
foot to push back up.

Ethan circled her as she ran, critiquing her form and
occasionally using the crop on her ass, thighs, and calves. “More graceful,
land softer and push up like a deer. I’ll add things to your body as we go;
this is the easy part. Concentrate on your form.”

When he finally allowed her to stop, it was only to
add scratchy hemp rope around her rib cage, and then to circle each breast
until they stuck out lewdly. He held a bottle with a straw so she could drink.
“This is six ounces. You can have the whole thing.”

She sucked it down, and he tweaked both her nipples
before he stepped away and put the crop back into striking position. “Run for
me, Samantha.”

It was harder to breathe now, with the rope
encircling her ribs, and she was more conscious of her naked breasts.

“Point your toes when they’re in the air,” he said as
the crop struck her ass. “Graceful, Samantha. I know you can do this. We’ve
barely begun.”

Sam was breathing hard when he let her stop again,
and she was beginning to hate the damned crop.

After giving her another six ounces of sports drink,
he produced a large dildo and said, “Raise your right leg.” He held his left
arm out and she propped her leg across it, but he shook his head and said,
“Graceful, Samantha.”

Taking a breath to keep from snapping at him, she
straightened her leg, pointed her toe, and arched her back, which pushed her
breasts out even farther.

He nodded. “Better. I hope you’re wet, because I
didn’t bring lube.” The dildo pushed at her entrance a few seconds before
sliding in, and Sam groaned at the invasion. Yes, she was wet, but the damned
thing was nearly as big around as Ethan.

More hemp rope was on a nearby chair, and he gently
let her leg down as he continued to hold the dildo in, and stretched to grab
the rope.

It only took a few minutes for him to fashion another
prickly harness around her, and while he didn’t place a knot over her clit, he
spread her lips and settled the rope directly against the sensitive bundle of
nerves so it would rub as she ran.

Instead of the crop, now he circled her from a little
farther away with a cruel double-tailed whip. When she displeased him, he
sometimes allowed just the tips of the whip to kiss her, and sometimes stepped
in and let go with the full force of the strands, which wrapped around her and
left what she was sure would be terrible welts.

The plug and dildo shifted with each step, the rope
around her rib cage kept her from fully inflating her lungs, and was beginning
to rub and irritate the base of her breasts as well as the circumference of her
ribs. Her abs, thighs, and calves burned, and her arms and shoulders ached. But
the rope running alongside her clit screamed loudest of all.

“Knees higher,” he said calmly as the strands of the
whip curled around her left thigh. He ignored her scream and let it fly again,
kissing the back of her right calf hard enough she was sure it would leave a
bruise.

Just as she wished he’d give her a rest while he
added the next piece of torture, if only so she could catch her breath, he
stepped in front of her with nipple clamps. She waited for the order to stop
before altering her pace, and when the command finally came, she practically
hung by her wrists as she gasped for air.

He offered more sports drink, and then it only took a
few seconds for him to attach the cruel clamps. When he ordered her to begin
again, she felt tears forming at the added pain. The clamps bit into her more
with each bounce, and he said, “Graceful, Samantha. If you do it right you can
keep your torso practically still. I’ll be adding weights to your nipples soon,
so I suggest you figure it out quickly.”

He was quiet a while, and mercifully didn’t use the
whip as Sam found a rhythm and managed to keep the heavy metal clamps from
bouncing. She timed her breaths with her steps, and discovered the act of
pointing her toes as her feet pushed off the floor helped keep the continuous
flow going.

She’d almost forgotten about Ethan when he stepped
into her vision and said, “Excellent. I’m pleased. Don’t stop; I can add the
weights as you run.”

She lost her rhythm for a half dozen steps as she
adjusted to the pain of the weights, and as all of the other hurts reminded her
of their presence, but as she fell back into the never-ending, fluid motion
he’d coached her into, much of the pain became background noise once again
— albeit a very
loud
cacophony.

The first strike of the flogger to her shoulders made
her stumble.

“You’re doing great, Samantha. Keep going. It may
take us a few minutes to find a mutual rhythm, but I’m going to flog the hell
out of you while you run. My end game isn’t to draw blood, but if it happens I
don’t intend to stop.” He struck again and she felt every knot of every strand,
and screamed all of the oxygen from her lungs as she lifted one foot, and then
the other.

He flogged her a few dozen times and stopped. She
couldn’t tell what he was doing from behind, but she kept running until he
said, “Okay, rest a few seconds.”

She looked up as he connected something to her right
wrist, and her heart sank as she realized it was a spreader bar. When he’d
connected both wrists, her arms were far enough apart she was back on her
tiptoes, unable to touch her heels to the ground.

“Beautiful, Sam. You’re beautiful. I’ll begin
flogging your back and I want you to run to
my
tempo now. I’ll give you
ten strikes to get going and figure out how to match me, if you aren’t there by
then I’ll add more weight to your nipples.”

Sam let the first four strikes land without moving,
and lifted her left leg as the fifth blow landed on her right shoulder, and
pushed hard to bring her right leg up as the flogger hit her left shoulder. She
wasn’t in perfect rhythm by the tenth strike, but was apparently close enough,
as he continued without stopping.

As Ethan sped up with the whip, she had to lift her
legs faster. When she didn’t lift them high enough, he hit harder. It felt as
if the knots were ripping her open, though she knew they weren’t. She barely
had enough breath to run, let alone scream as she pumped her legs gracefully
and worked to keep her torso in place, and the lashes continued to fall.

Gravity seemed to shift, and suddenly, Sam was
floating in a sea of blissful peace. Her legs moved under her but her torso
stayed practically motionless. Her arms seemed weightless above her, and the
rhythm of the flogger kept her tethered to reality. Her muscles burned, her
heart raced, her lungs made use of the oxygen they could get. Her ankle, knee,
and hip bones worked in perfect choreography with each other, and the
relentless strikes of the flogger brought it all together.

Sam thought she could have kept running in place
forever, as long as he kept flogging her, but when he finally tossed the
flogger to the side, she kept running to the same tempo.

Without warning he lifted her by her hips, pulled the
plug from her ass, stretched the rope to the side, and positioned her ass over
his cock before pressing her onto it.

Sam drew in as much air as she could with the rope
around her ribcage, and screamed as his cock invaded her without giving her
time to adjust. As soon her ass touched the front of his body he reached to her
front, released the rope, and pulled it from her crotch. He went slow enough to
keep from burning the side of her clit, but fast enough it was too much to
handle, and her scream filled the room and echoed back.

Her Master tossed the rope aside and the dildo slid
from her pussy and thumped to the floor near his feet. Before she could catch
her breath, he was fucking her ass like a wild man again, and Sam squeezed the
spreader bar over her head in an attempt to gain some control with her
exhausted arms.

The weights on her nipples were too much now, as he
pounded into her from below, but she had no safeword, and had no words at all
at the moment, so she screamed and shrieked as he took her, and when at last he
spurted into her depths and stepped away, she hung limp from the rope.

“The day has barely begun, my lovely wife,” he said
as he released her wrists from the rope and spreader bar, and lifted her into
his arms. “You were beautiful, running for me. Such grace and elegance.”

He walked her outside and settled her onto the shiny
steel dining table. It was under a canopy, and in the shade, and the half wall
between her and the beach would keep anyone from seeing her…but still. She was
naked. Outside.

She tried to hold her screams in when he took the
nipple clamps off, but they’d been on a while, and she’d never been good at
handling that level of nipple pain. It felt as if both areolae were on fire,
with every sensitive nerve ending a blistering torment. She knew the pain would
fade, but it seemed to stretch much longer than normal, and she was practically
in tears before the agony finally faded.

When she was finally breathing normal, he allowed her
to sit up and drink as much as she wanted, and when she indicated she’d had
enough, he had her lie back again, centered on the table.

Her arms and shoulders hurt, and she was grateful he
bound her wrists to the outside of the table near her hips. Her legs, however,
he lifted over her shoulders, and used wide bands to attach her knees to the sides
of the table near her shoulders. A length of rope secured her ankles well above
her head, so she was bent in half with her legs straight.

The position pulled her ass up into the air, and as
she squeezed tight to keep the liquid from escaping her ass, he said, “I want
to see my cum leaking out of your ass. Don’t hold it in. There’s nothing
disgusting left in your colon, not after all those enemas last night.”

He was right, her final enema had come out all water,
with nothing smelly at all. She relaxed her ass and let the cum out, and he affectionately
patted the back of her leg as he said, “You have no idea how much this turns me
on. I never imagined I’d enjoy taking control of someone’s colon, and not just
their ass, but…” He smiled. “I love you, Samantha Levi.”

She didn’t correct him with the hyphenated last name.
She was whoever he wanted her to be right now, and that was fine with her.

He reached for her chest. “As a reward, I’ll take
this off so you can breathe better.”

Gentle hands removed the rope from around her breasts
and rib cage, and he caressed the indentations the rope had made and noted a
few areas they’d rubbed the skin. He massaged her breasts, moved up to her
shoulders, and down her arms. She groaned in pleasure and he said, “Remember this
— if you try your hardest and please me, I’ll give you these little
breaks.”