Safewords: Davenport and Chiffon (2 page)

"I hadn't considered assigning an end date, but I suppose doing so forces us to look at what's working and what isn't. Why wait until the weekend's over? I'd rather take care of it before we play."

She shook her head. “Sorry, Sunday evening, so I can sleep on it. Besides, I'm not healed enough for too much play."

He gave her a wicked smile. “Oh, I have plenty of things planned that don't involve impact play on your back or ass."

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Zach gathered the loose papers—notes scribbled all over them—and bumped them together before sliding them under his tablet.

"Just so we're clear, when the clock chimes in a few minutes you'll belong to me for the next twenty-four hours, until nine o'clock tomorrow night. You don't do anything but breathe without permission—no water, no bathroom, no food. Also, no computer, television, or cellphone unless you're given explicit permission. If I leave the room, you stay where you are until you can ask to move. If you want something, you ask. If you need something, you ask. If there's an emergency then of course you should use your best judgment, but be sure I'll also consider it an emergency."

Her libido had gone into high gear during the last part of their negotiations, and she was already so turned on she sat on her hands to keep from playing with herself. She nodded her agreement, not trusting her voice, freezing as the clock began to chime.

They looked at each other, motionless until the last note sounded. Zach broke the spell by saying, “Go on up to the bedroom and get undressed. Use the restroom and then put your toiletries in my bathroom, the second drawer on the left is empty. I've also cleared out the bottom middle section of the armoire; you should place the rest of your things in there. I need to gather a few items from the playroom. If you finish before I arrive you can kneel on the bed while you wait."

She did as instructed, uncomfortable he'd emptied drawers for her, but was folding her clothing into the armoire when he entered. She recognized the enema equipment immediately, and her head began shaking side to side involuntarily.

"Really? You're telling me no already? Before we even get started? We're going to have lots of fun this weekend, but you need a good cleaning out or it'll be messy. I'll let you give the first to yourself if you like, but I'll administer the large volume one we finish with."

Dana turned back to the drawer, nodding as she folded the last two items and stood, waiting for instructions. He lifted a hand, displaying a Fleet enema. “I can do it and stay with you for moral support until you need to release; or I can let you go into the bathroom, give it to yourself, and trust you to hold it as long as you can before expelling."

"I'd rather do it alone, if I have a choice, Sir."

"The door stays unlocked; let me know if you need me, I'll be right here."

"Thank you, Sir."

She accepted the Fleet and walked to his bathroom, softly closing the door behind her. Moving quickly, she dropped to hands and knees on the bathmat, removed the cap from the disposable bottle, inserted the nozzle into herself, and squeezed, wanting to get it over with. She groaned at the cramps, stopped a moment, regretting her haste. She arched her spine up and down before continuing, slower this time. When the bulb was empty she lay sideways on the mat and wished she'd brought a towel for her head.

What had made her want to do this without Zach? He'd probably be rubbing her tummy now, comforting her. She breathed her way through several waves of cramps before deciding it was time to stand and walk to the toilet.

When Dana finally came out of the bathroom Zach had everything placed on a clear plastic shower curtain draped over the bed. He was in the sitting area, and when he saw her at the door he set his tablet aside and walked to her, wrapping his arms around her protectively. “How do you feel?"

"I'm okay, Sir. Part of me wants to argue against this, but I recognize it's important I trust you have a reason. Thanks for allowing me privacy this time."

"Privacy is never a given, but I don't want you to learn to hate enemas. I hope you eventually won't feel the need to hide from me, but for now I'm willing to indulge you when I don't think you're taking it for granted. Come to the bed. I've put towels over the plastic so you won't stick to it—if you want another for under your head, or even a small pillow, let me know."

He situated her on her left side, bending her right leg up so her knee wasn't too far from her chest, and used a thin enema nozzle. It wasn't long before warm water was flowing into her and the heat was almost relaxing, at first. As the cramps hit he stopped the flow and rubbed her back, continuing slowly when it eased—stopping and starting based on her comfort level. When the enema bag finally gurgled she was surprised she'd taken the whole container.

"That's two quarts, you've done very well."

He removed the nozzle and Dana clenched tight, terrified she'd let some loose. “Can I go to the bathroom now, please Sir?"

"Not just yet. I won't make you hold it long, but I think longer than thirty seconds is in order.” He looped the nozzle up and wrapped a small towel around it as he said, “We're going to roll you onto your back, then onto your right side a moment before returning to your current position. We'll go slow. Ready?"

Fuck no she wasn't ready

"Sure.” She bent her legs and rolled to her back, groaning as the water shifted. It wasn't painful, exactly, but she was so full it was uncomfortable and awkward. Zach put a hand on her left shoulder and urged her to roll on over. She let her knees fall towards the bed, slowly, and he supported her shoulders so her body turned at the same time. A cramp hit as she was settling into that side and he rubbed her tummy, feeling out the convulsing areas and massaging them with expert fingers.

Dana had such mixed emotions about the experience; accepting an enema can be the ultimate expression of how much control someone has over your body. As Zach helped her through it—becoming both tormentor and comforter—her mind didn't know whether to resent or appreciate him. Logically, she wanted him to own her, and this certainly went far towards that end. But emotionally? She felt like a two year old, somewhere between tantrum and ‘
hold me
.'

When the cramp was over he talked her through rolling back to her left side before helping her up, allowing her into the bathroom without him again, but leaving the door open about an inch. She was so relieved to be rid of the pressure in her bowels she couldn't be too mortified about the sounds he was hearing.

When she finally thought all of the water was gone, she returned to the bedroom.

"Sir? Can I take a quick shower, please?"

"Not just yet, I'd like you to do the highstep thing the Rockettes do. You know, knee up and foot up? You can hold onto the doorframe for balance if you need. Fifty, please."

She made it to twelve and had to go again, saying “Sir! I—", but he interrupted with, “Go."

When at last he deemed it was okay for her to shower, she was exhausted. He'd put everything away by then and had the bed turned down, and he had her chug a bottle of sports drink and then rubbed her back and shoulders until she fell asleep.

She was awakened by kisses on her neck, a hand on her breast. She moaned in pleasure, arching her back, pushing her ass against the cock she felt behind her.

"Oh good, you're awake. Do you need to use the restroom?"

She looked at the clock—four minutes after three, and the a.m. dot was glowing.

"Dana?"

Oh, he'd asked a question. She tried to wake her brain enough to process his words.

"Yes, I do, please. The sports drink must have gone through me."

"Come back to bed when you're done. I need to retrieve some items from the kitchen, I won't be long."

Dana was under the covers when Zach returned. He'd flipped the lights on before he left, and she'd been tempted to switch them off. She hadn't, though.

A large stainless steel bowl was cradled between his left arm and chest, and another in each hand. He set all three bowls on his side of the bed near the footboard and made a trip to the bathroom, returning with a giant bottle of lube and several bath towels, draping one of them over the line of bowls.

"We need to put the towels down. Stand and help me, please."

When they finally had everything organized, she was laying on her back with her knees up in the air, classic missionary position, and Zach was sitting below her. She felt like she was at the gyno's office.

"I trust you're awake now?"

"Yes, Sir. I'd rather be asleep, though."

"But that's not your call to make, is it?"

"No, Sir."

"Would you like it to be your call?"

She thought a minute and reluctantly, said, “No, Sir. If I want you to have control, I should accept I'm not going to like all of your decisions. I can't just let you have authority when you're doing what I enjoy."

He nodded and pulled the towel off the bowls, spreading it between her feet and dumping the contents of one of the bowls onto it.

It was a chain. A big, shiny chain. Not like a necklace, but something you'd use to restrain a large dog. Or a bear.

He lifted one end and squirted lube on it. “This is stainless steel, and there are four feet of it.” His gaze rose to meet hers. “I intend to get all four feet inside of your pussy. Have you have had this done before?"

Dana shook her head. Speechless.

"I'll go slow so we can stop any pinching before it gets too bad. It's not supposed to hurt, tell me if it does."

The process was clinical at first—lube a few links, push them in; lube a few more links, push them in. She felt a slight pinch a handful of times, but as soon as she started saying “Ow,” he was straitening things out and fixing it.

"I fully expect you to have at least two orgasms without permission tonight. Punishment won't happen until tomorrow, and I'm not telling you what it'll be; only that it won't involve your back or ass, and the minute you'll withstand for every unsanctioned climax will make you lament losing control. Two minutes will be quite painful, but bearable. More than that? Let's hope you don't go there."

He fell silent, concentrating, engrossed in the process.

Eventually, she began feeling full, moaning with every link he packed in. The lube time was a rest period, where she relaxed a second and then prepared herself to be stuffed still more.

"I'm so full, Sir. I can't hold more. That's it. Please."

"But more still fits. See? There went another. And look, I can put my finger in and mix them around,” he said, ignoring her gasp. “There's plenty of room. I know you feel full, but I want to see even more inside of you.” His voice grew firmer. “Look at me, Dana. Do you wish me to stop when I'm not finished?"

She'd been watching his hands, with the chain in one and lube in another. She raised her eyes and met his, saw an intensity that made her breath catch and her heart trip over it, and she recognized his need.

"No, Sir. I don't want you to stop."

The metal grew hot inside of her, the weight of it pushing against her g-spot, rubbing and pressing more and more with each link until she thought she'd go mad with lust. “I need to come, Sir! Please!"

"Not yet.” He shook his head. “You don't have permission."

The driving need inside of her grew desperate. “I'm not sure I can stop it. Please help me, Sir.
Please
!"

A tug vibrated through her as he gently laid the chain on the bed, and she was grateful he hadn't just dropped it. He wiped the lube off his hands before he placed them on her knees. “Slow your breathing—fill your lungs completely, then empty them. Feel the air brushing against your windpipe. I only have another four or five insertions and it'll be in you. Let me know when you're ready for me to finish. You can do this."

She listened to the calming sound of his voice, felt the warmth of his hands on her knees anchoring her to the non-erotic parts of her body, and did as he said—slowing her breathing and backing out of the orgasm.

She nodded. “Okay, Sir. I'm ready."

"Excellent. I'm pleased."

The final links were terrible and beautiful. She felt as if her insides were so expanded nothing else could possibly fit, and yet he kept pushing more into her. When he finally pushed the last link inside, so none was hanging out, the sensation took her breath away. She was incredibly turned on, her heartbeat stronger in her lower belly than it was in her chest, and a fire raged inside of her that almost overwhelmed her—but she wasn't in danger of an impending orgasm, so she could enjoy the sensations.

"I have a challenge for you, before we begin the next stage of stuffing you full."

The next stage? What was he talking about? No way would he get anything else in.

"I'm going to help you stand—
slowly
. Once you're up, I want you to walk to the door, then to the end of the hallway before walking back to bed."

He put one arm behind her back and another under her knees, turning her until her legs were sideways off the bed. She gingerly slid off, with him holding her upper arm for support, and could feel gravity shifting the chain as the weight left the rear wall of her pussy and transferred to her pelvic floor. She took her first step, Zach still steadying her, and gasped as her muscles embraced the unyielding metal, detonating against sensitive nerve endings and sending her blood boiling. She clenched hard to make sure nothing came out, but realized the entire mass couldn't fall out as one unit.

He let go of her after the third pace, assured her balance was okay. Dana walked out of the room and carefully made her way down the hall. Zach was leaning in the doorway when she turned, eyeing her like a leopard watches a gazelle, and she held eye contact as she walked towards him, his dominance making her feel more submissive with every step.

She was about five feet away from him when the chain and muscles moved together just right and her control shattered like a dropped mirror as her insides splintered into powerful spasms around the unforgiving steel—the orgasm taking her over, stealing her breath and shaking her to the very core.