Safeword: Davenport (8 page)

He methodically rubbed what she assumed was sunscreen into her skin, starting with her neck and working down. Her breasts and nipples were treated no different from the rest of her body—his hands were matter of fact, no more emotion in them than someone waxing a car, and making her
need
until she had to concentrate to keep from moaning. It also put her further into pet headspace—bound, blindfolded, and taken care of—protected without choice.

When he reached her knees he gently helped her into a chair and smoothed the lotion over shins, calves, and the tops of her feet. It tickled a little, but he held her firmly and applied it anyway.

His fingers returned to her nipples—tweaking, rolling—and then
pain
. A clamp, she guessed, on the left, and seconds later on the right, before she had a chance to deal with the agony of the first. She yelped, tried to wrench her hands forward, fought the restraints. Her breasts were pulled up by her nipples, the clamps biting into the sensitive skin, and she realized a chain connected them. She went on her tiptoes, but he only drew them higher. She squealed in anguish as he pulled out and up, setting both nipples on fire as they were pinched, compressed, twisted, and stretched.

The tension was gone in an instant, his hand on her arm making sure she didn't fall. She gave a short scream as the chain dragged her nipples down, the metal heavier than she'd expected.

"I've attached a leash, pet. We're going for a walk. Close your eyes and don't open them until you're told."

He lifted the blindfold, and the sharp light piercing through her eyelids caused a different kind of pain. She squeezed them shut and felt a touch to the sides of her temples as he slid a pair of glasses onto her head. The awful brightness immediately dimmed, and she relaxed her face.

"Your back's to the sun, but it's a bright day. Open them slowly."

She did so, grateful he'd thought of sunglasses. When she could finally look around, she saw him waiting ever so patiently, his blond hair glowing in the sunlight.

He must've walked her on the leash for an hour, requiring she stay exactly beside him or endure the sharp torment of the clamps pulling her nipples. Her mind couldn't wander, she had to keep ultra-focused on him, anticipating his turns, speeding and slowing the instant he did.

Every so often he took the cruel clamps off, massaged the blood back, and replaced them at a different angle—horizontal one time, vertical the next. Taking them off ached more than putting them on, reapplying them hurt worse as the day progressed, and being yanked into place by her nipples when she missed a step was torture.

She'd been trained to heel before, but when Garnet originally taught her, she had no idea of the reason for such immersive conditioning—the level of submission required, the mindset necessary for one to be so in tune to another. This knowledge didn't make it any easier now, or the work less frustrating; and may have made it harder, as she had to stop analyzing before she could get into the right frame of mind.

Her breasts were on fire, the constant pulling and tugging when she didn't keep pace, the compression even when she did. But the submission the exercise demanded, and the mental places he'd stepped her through since she walked through his kitchen door, made it deliciously excruciating.

Eventually, everything faded and there were no thoughts. There was only Zach, his steps, his body. Her feet moved with his, slowing when his slowed, turning when he did, without needing her brain involved. He walked her to a shady spot and stopped, touching her arm and dragging her consciousness back to the surface.

"Stay."

He stepped in front of her and she had to stick her feet to the ground to keep from stepping with him, but the
stay
echoed in her head and she remained in place.

"Kneel."

She gracefully went to both knees, her muscle memory taking her down without a thought, so different from the awkwardness of the morning. The grass was cool and soft beneath her legs, and everything felt right with the world.

"Beautiful, pet. We'll call that
kneel up
. When I say
kneel
I want your bottom on your feet."

She eased into position, her legs naturally spreading apart. Remembering his instructions earlier, she arched her back and looked up, meeting his eyes. If he'd ordered her to come at that moment, she would have.

He reached for her nipple clamps, casually releasing them simultaneously before standing. She gasped at the pain, but kept eye contact, letting him see the agony in her face. “Very nice. Stay."

He walked away and Dana's gaze rested on a trillium. No thoughts littered her mind as she admired the simple beauty—three flat perfectly horizontal leaves with the flower crowning over them. Her arousal subsided until the terrible ache became an undertone, and the fire in her nipples went from a bonfire to smoldering coals.

Zach needed a few moments to center himself before beginning the next phase. They'd been so in tune as they walked, he'd felt as if their very souls had merged.

He stepped to the pool house to retrieve swim shorts and the sensory deprivation stand, turning towards her as he changed, awed by the depths of her submission. He hadn't been certain he could take her this far today, but—for someone who wasn't sure she could submit again—Dana was a natural.

Sensory deprivation of this magnitude would only work if she was already well on her way towards total surrender, and she was primed for it. He'd had his doubts when she walked into the kitchen a few hours ago, her body language showing she wanted to submit, her face broadcasting she wasn't feeling it. He was glad he'd structured the first part of the day around helping her find comfort surrendering her power again.

Watching her relinquish control during breakfast had almost moved him to tears, requiring he blindfold her sooner than planned. After losing Bethany, he didn't believe he'd be gifted with complete submission a second time, and Dana's grace and acquiescence on the leash threatened to undo him.

Maybe it would've been better to stick to sex and games, but she needed a refresher course to help her remember how to surrender. He'd designed the morning's activities with this in mind, and as he quietly walked the sensory dep device into the water, he realized he'd fallen head over heels for her already.

Dana had fascinated him from day one—such gentle strength, so skilled at her profession, and her kind eyes that missed nothing. Backing off while they worked together was the right decision; but it'd been difficult, to not show how his feelings for her blossomed during their weekly meetings.

He knew she was still emotionally fragile, and appreciated her honesty about her reluctance to engage in power exchange again. He wanted to protect his heart until she'd worked through her issues, but it was a little late for that—he'd just have to figure out how to keep her.

Their kinks lined up well, and he knew she'd expect him to remain firm, without giving leeway on rules or punishments. Her eyes had reflected the respect Garnet had earned by providing what she needed, and he hoped to do the same, but in his own way.

He paused before installing the last piece, his gaze seeking her out—her posture perfect, so far into her submission she was motionless as a statue. She'd already gone fathoms deeper than most women managed, and he was sure he could help her take the final steps towards transcendence.

Taking a deep breath, he slid the Plexiglas in place, situated the remaining items on the pool's edge, and dove under the cool, clear water, hoping some laps would help center him. He had to get his thoughts under control before he could give her the authority she needed. Too much emotion right now would make her dominant personality want to resurface, and might scare her away. There'd be time for emotions later.

Dana wasn't sure how long he allowed her to rest, but perhaps ten minutes had passed when she heard a splash and turned her head to see him swimming. He traversed the length of the pool twice, his freestyle form perfect, before walking up the steps like a god rising from the ocean, coming straight towards her.

They held eye contact, her face angling higher as he neared. Dana's heartbeat stuttered and then picked up speed as he stood over her.

"You mentioned deep sea diving so I assume you're comfortable in a snorkel?"

She nodded and he walked behind her to help her up and unbuckle her cuffs, the cool air on her wrists a reminder of where the restraints had been. His loose blue bathing suit reminded her of her own nudity, and she looked at the grass, suddenly overwhelmed.

He touched her back, his cool hand still damp. “You're performing beautifully, pet. Walk beside me, please."

She fell into step alongside him as if it were second nature.

Lined up on the edge of the pool were snorkel, diving mask, lube, condoms, and four butt plugs ranging from small to huge. A metal contraption rested underwater in the pool, and her insides tightened with fear.

"Sunglasses off and get in—get your hair wet and get used to the water while I explain."

She put her sunglasses beside the snorkel and noted the lube was oil based and the condoms a non-latex variety. Instead of using the steps, she put her hand on the edge of the pool and flipped her feet in. The water was refreshing and she ducked under a few seconds, tilting her head back so her hair flowed away from her face as she broke the surface.

Zach continued talking as he walked around the corner to the steps and entered the normal way. “I've blacked out the goggles so they'll act as a blindfold—otherwise they're a standard diving mask, to insure you don't accidentally breathe through your nose. The stand you see was made to facilitate using the pool as a sensory deprivation tank."

He touched the pieces as he explained. “You'll be face down, there's a Plexiglas sheet your head will go under, and a slot for me to fit the snorkel into once you're in place. There are handles for you to grasp to help you stay put. I'll be behind you, between your legs. We didn't put fisting on the table when we negotiated, but there's still much I can do to you in this position."

Dana's slow burn returned to full-on ignition and she heard her heartbeat in her ears. The fear was gone, replaced with anticipation and arousal; and she wanted to come so damn bad.

He put the snorkel into his mouth, submerged, and glided into position, saying both safewords so she could hear them through the snorkel. She was allowed a run-through without the mask, and then was given time to get the fit right, going underwater while holding his hand to ensure a good seal. He didn't rush her, insisting she should feel comfortable with the set-up before they began.

As she was finally ready to go under to stay, he touched her shoulder and said, “Two very important points: You won't be given permission to orgasm while you're in the pool, and when I'm ready to bring you up I'll touch your arms and pull your body back. Unless there's a problem, don't let go of the grips until you feel my hands around your upper arms."

She nodded and moved into the now familiar position, feeling terribly vulnerable as she gripped the handles and felt him securing the snorkel.

The water in her ears blocked all sound, and the black paint on the exterior of the mask encompassed her in total darkness. She could feel the grips in her hands, the Plexiglas on the back of her head, the snorkel in her mouth—but the rest of her body floated without sensory input. She was in a cool, dark cocoon; anchored by her hands, head, and mouth.

He gripped her legs, spreading them, and she sensed his body between her thighs. Her breathing hitched, the sound echoing loudly in the snorkel. She wasn't sure she could hold back if he fucked her in this position.

Something touched her asshole, plunging in without warning. Not one finger, letting her get used to it—but two fingers thrust in all the way and rotated as they were pulled out, and immediately followed by a solid object. Remembering the line-up on the side of the pool, she assumed it was the smallest plug, and she relaxed, but it'd been a mind fuck, because before long she was sure he was attempting to press the largest of the four into her. She tried to relax, but the burn started and just when she was about to say
ottoman
, he stopped pushing, holding it firmly in place.

She gasped at the size, wanting to accept it, but the stretch and burn were an intense reminder of how fat the biggest plug on the side of the pool had been.

She breathed deeply through the snorkel and imagined the tension in her anal muscles dissolving, her inner dialogue repeating
I accept
as a mantra. She felt his left hand on her leg, holding her in place while his right held the plug, kept pressure without pushing. Suddenly, there was blinding pain as her ass muscles were strained beyond their limit and it plunged all the way in, the same muscles clamping around it, squeezing and trapping. She screamed into the snorkel, biting down on the mouthpiece to keep the seal.

She was stretched wide, the burn intense; but Dana reminded herself she was wearing a large plug because he wanted her filled, and the pain was hers to bear. She squeezed the grips in her hands, concentrated on the sensation of the handles against her palms, reminding herself she was more than her asshole, trying to orient herself—but not doing a great job as she floated in the darkness.

A warm hand grasped her right leg as another moved up her left until it was caressing her outer lips. He pinched them closed and stretched them away from her body. She'd needed anchoring, and this did it, as she held onto the handles in front of her while he pulled her backwards by her pussy.

Before she realized he'd let go, fingers were inside of her, stretching her, pushing, invading. Then nothing. Floating in a dark universe.

Her mind tried to make sense of things for a short time, but starved of input, she eventually became one with the emptiness, a waking dream. She recognized herself, the being she was when not inhabiting a body, but the thought flittered to nothing as she drifted in the void.

Hands on both calves, legs pulled apart. The contact brought her soul slamming back into this dimension, and her body flared to life with a rush of adrenaline.