Safewords: Davenport and Chiffon (3 page)

Her hand flew to her pussy, as if it could hold everything in place from the outside, and her knees crumbled. Zach was at her side immediately, his arm around her, helping her to the ground as her body spasmed around the heated metal inside of her.

Zach held her through it, supporting her, making soothing sounds. When it finally played itself out she was exhausted and just wanted to fall over and go back to sleep.

"I'm sorry, Sir."

"I'm not upset with you, not even disappointed at your willpower. Learning to control your orgasms will be a journey, and you're just beginning. Yes, there'll be consequences when you can't hold them off, but it doesn't mean I'm angry. Come, stand up, let's get you back in bed."

He walked beside her, his arm around her waist, and helped her climb in, face down this time.

His hands separated her legs, spreading them wide, and she felt him sit behind her. She heard, “Relax,” and felt something pushing at her asshole, slowly spreading it open, but only for a moment before it slid in.
All the way in

"Sir? What is it?"

"It's a grape. I'm going to fill you with them. These are room temperature, so count your blessings as I've been known to freeze them first. Here comes another. Relax for me."

She whimpered as it went in, struggled at the sensation of needing to
go
. She wiggled her hips, trying to make the feeling go away, and the chain shifted inside her, almost giving her another spontaneous orgasm.

"Oh!"

He chuckled. “Yes.
Oh
. This one's a little larger. Open up."

Dana counted eight grapes before his finger intruded, rummaging around and moving the grapes inside of her, pressing against the thin wall of her vagina so he rubbed against the chain. It was all too much and she groaned again, experiencing something between pleasure and agony. She was nowhere near her symbolic twelve o'clock—this was discomfort, not pain, and yet she couldn't decide if the discomfort were outshining the pleasure, or whether her bliss had the upper hand. She wanted to ask permission to go to the bathroom, but figured he'd let her go when he was ready. She doubted he was ready yet.

He alternated fingering her and inserting grapes until the urge to go to the toilet was an all-encompassing need. She forgot the chain; stopped thinking about everything except the feeling in her bowels, the opening and closing of the ring of muscles holding the grapes in, and the sound of his voice.

She thought he'd let her go to the bathroom when he helped her stand, but he only turned her around to have her lay on her back in bed. The chain and grapes shifted as she stood, and again as she reclined backwards. The chain was part of her now, but the grapes were a foreign invasion. She didn't consider asking to go to the bathroom, he was in charge and she belonged to him—her body was his to do with as he pleased.

He situated her on the bed so her ass and feet were near the edge, while he remained standing. A finger lightly touched the outside of her asshole. “Push the grapes out, please."

She pushed for an instant before her body rebelled—she couldn't do that here! It would feel like taking a crap in the bed.

"I can't, Sir.” It wasn't that she was refusing; she literally couldn't do that
here
.

His voice was patient, but unyielding. “Yes, you can. We cleaned your insides; the grapes won't be soiled. You're on a towel and shower curtain, so even if they have germs, they won't contaminate the bed.
Push
, Dana."

It wasn't a suggestion, but a clear order. She tried again, and her body rebelled once more. “I'm sorry, Sir. I can't."

His hand flew to her pussy, but the chain inside her blocked her view, so she couldn't see what his was doing. Her clit erupted in pain as he flicked it. Hard. Her hands rushed to cover herself as she screamed in agony.

He waited for her to calm down, didn't say anything about her hands, just repeated. “Push them out. We'll be here until I see at least four of them sliding out of your ass. I may change my mind and want more if you keep delaying. I know you feel the need to go. I can see you clinching, trying to hold them in. The insides of your thighs aren't bruised; even an extreme masochist will have problems handling a tawse to the inner thighs without a warm-up. At least four grapes, Dana. Now."

She took a deep breath, closed her eyes, and pushed, willing her muscles to allow it as a grape exited her body. She squeezed her eyelids tighter as she inhaled again and strained, managing to get the second one out—the third surprising her as it surged out unexpectedly. She felt as if she were having a bowel movement in bed, but he'd been so upset with her for refusing, so she bore down and forced them out, trying her best to ignore how
wrong
it felt. It took more coaxing for her to get the fourth out, but when it finally came, Zach looked pleased.

"Look, perfectly clean.” He held the grapes up for her to see. “As I said they'd be. If the others escape your iron hold while we're finishing it'll be fine. If they don't, that's okay, too. Now, for your reward—you can come as many times as you want during this part. No permission needed."

He stroked her labia before pushing a finger and thumb into her, and pulling a few links of the chain out. His gaze met hers and he smiled, looking like a kid who put a frog in his sister's bed.

His arm hauled back, the chain still in his hand, and when it was straight behind him, he continued dragging with his other hand, so all four feet cascaded out in one fell swoop, flooding her body with adrenaline as the sensations overwhelmed and shocked.

The orgasm slammed through her seconds after the adrenaline, and when Zach placed the weight and heat of the entire chain on her stomach, she thought she'd shatter into a million pieces.

Hands shoved her legs up as he braced himself before he plunged, and she completely lost the ability to breathe.

Zach slid entirely out before languidly sinking back into her. Smooth, slow, and with intention. His gaze locked on hers, letting her know he owned her, all the way down to her soul.

When she could finally breathe again, she only mustered one word. “Yours."

He smiled. “Yes. Mine.” His pace went from dreamy pleasure to urgent demand, his mouth hot as it closed over her nipple, sucking and biting until she arched up, offering herself, making the warm chain pressed between them shift. Desire shot through her as every nerve in her body came alive, rocking her from the inside out, and felt as if her soul were unraveling—making her nothing, and everything. Making her his.

Zach's rhythm stuttered and he thrust a final time and held, his face buried in her neck, quiet grunts and growls coming from him as his body shuddered and rocked. Dana's orgasm continued at least thirty seconds after Zach's finished, and he stayed put until she was still and breathing almost normally again.

She had another mini-release as he was pulling out, just a few spams, and he paused until it was over, chuckling as she relaxed into the bed once more. “I love that about you. I'll have to remember to give you periods of time where you can come when you want, so you don't lose that particular quirk. I'm looking forward to teaching you control, though."

He leaned down and gave her a quick kiss on the lips. “I need to dispose of this and take everything to the kitchen. I'll bring more sports drink, and some yogurt. Are you hungrier than that?"

She shook her head, “No, yogurt sounds perfect. Do you have blueberry?"

"I do. You have permission to use the restroom to get rid of the rest of the grapes if you like. We'll cuddle a bit before I chain you to the bed again, but I suggest you take care of your needs now, while you have a chance."

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Something was annoying her. A stick was poking into her and she tried to move it, but her hands were inside the sleeping bag and she couldn't reach to push it away. The harder she struggled to free them from the fabric, the worse the branch poked into her. When it finally pushed inside of her she awoke with a start, realized it wasn't a stick, but Zach's cock coming into her from behind as she lay on her side. Her arms weren't trapped in the sleeping bag; they were attached to the front of her bondage collar by six-inch lengths of rope.

Zach began moving inside of her, taking his time as his iron control maintained a slow, deliberate rhythm, obviously in no hurry this morning. Dana hadn't been horny when she'd first awakened, but the situation quickly turned her on and she found herself pushing her ass back, lifting her top leg to give him more room, wishing he'd speed up, go faster.

His voice vibrated against her shoulder. “Mmmm. That's it. You don't have permission to come. Don't bother asking."

Thankfully, as the words were out of his mouth he switched into high gear, fucking her like a wildman for the next three or four minutes until he erupted into the condom in a flurry of vocalizations, his entire body trembling as he released. Dana barely held the orgasm back—another twenty seconds and she'd have been coming with him. She had mixed feelings about suppressing her own climax as she lay there frustrated and unfulfilled, her blood roaring through her veins.

He unlocked her ankle and walked her to the toilet, holding her arm until she was seated. She groaned inwardly as he stepped to the sink and pulled his toothbrush out, wishing he'd walk around the corner again, at least.

She managed to pee while he brushed his teeth, the running water helping her relax. When he finished, he wiped her without comment and led her to the sink. Dana's face was bright red again; she wasn't sure she'd ever get used to him doing such personal things for her.

Her right arm was freed from bondage and he waved towards her toothbrush—already loaded with toothpaste—before casually leaning against the wall, as if waiting to see a show.

"My hair, Sir. I need to pull it back or I'll get toothpaste in it."

He reached for her hairbrush and gently worked the tangles out before expertly pulling it into a ponytail.

She looked at him in the mirror, dark blue meeting light blue. “You've done that before."

He tilted his head. “When you restrict someone's movements you have to take care of their basic needs. Brush your teeth."

He leaned against the wall again, watching her as she brushed. She felt self-conscious, his eyes analyzing her as if cataloging her sequence and technique. She started to skip her tongue, but her mouth didn't feel clean when she neglected it, so she stuck it out and brushed, staring at the running water as she did, refusing to look at him. She cleaned the toothbrush with her one free hand, rinsed her mouth, and wiped her face before standing and looking at his feet, waiting for her next order.

He placed a finger under her chin, lifting it until their gaze met. She saw kindness layered into the authority, and her heart eased a little. “There'll come a time when I'll brush your teeth when we're deep in a scene, but I'm trying to ease us into some of this. I'm telling you now because I want you to understand how extensive my control will be, eventually."

"That would be very...” She trailed off, not sure of the right word.

"Intimate. It's very intimate. Come, I need to re-secure your hands. You're probably ready for a different position."

"Yes, Sir. Thank you."

He pulled a length of rope with steel rings on both ends from a nightstand drawer. He retrieved two small locks as well, and connected the rope to the side of her waist cincher before threading it through the hardware on her right wrist cuff, the front ring on the bondage collar, the ring on her left wrist cuff, and finally locking it to the left side of the waist cincher.

She could move each hand from her waist to the center of her throat, and appreciated the movement it allowed her shoulders and elbows, as they'd grown stiff. She still wouldn't be able to do much with her hands, though.

He tightened the waist cincher before walking her back to bed and helping her climb in, positioning her so she was sitting up. Pillows were fluffed and placed behind and around her until she felt like pampered royalty.

Smiling, he kissed her on the cheek. “You're beautiful, wearing collar and cuffs in my bed, bound and helpless, the cincher showing off your curves. I'll be back soon with a protein shake and more sports drink. You'll be on a mostly liquid diet today, I'm afraid."

He opened a drawer and pulled out a walkie-talkie looking thing. “This is a baby monitor. I'll take the receiver with me downstairs. If you need anything, just say it. Do not, for any reason, get out of bed. Stay where you are. Understood?"

"Yes, Sir."

She finally looked at the clock to see it was nearly ten in the morning, and rested her head against the pillows, thinking of the things he'd done so far. Garnet had never been big on orgasm restriction, and most of the time she'd come when she wanted. Zach apparently enjoyed controlling them, and so far, she wasn't a fan.

Although
, submitting often meant denial of what others considered a basic right. When she was locked away in Garnet's closet she'd been deprived of the ability to go to the bathroom when she wanted, and had been barred from reading, watching TV, talking on the phone, checking email. Even when not stored away, when he'd locked her closet she'd lost access to her clothes, shoes, and all forms of what most people deemed essential entertainment.

Even though she hated the act of being denied an orgasm, she had to admit the control it gave him was a huge turn on. Just thinking about it had her insides fluttering to life again, and she couldn't reach her pussy. She could touch her breasts, but she'd never gotten off on breast play alone.

She heard Zach coming up the steps and opened her eyes, smiling when he came into view, his return smile making her heart flutter. How could she ever deny him anything he asked for? This man who'd claimed her in such primal ways.

He placed the tray on the bed and picked up a large glass with a straw, holding it to her mouth. Dana dutifully took a drink, not sure what to expect, and was pleasantly surprised by an apple cinnamon taste.