No Safeword: Matte - Happily Ever After (Safewords) (32 page)

“Do you have any idea why your husband is getting rid of Jerrod and I Sunday night?” Miguel asked.

“Yes.”

“Want to let me in on it?”

“No.”

“C’mon, Bruiser. If you don’t tell me I’ll assume he wants one last night of kinky sex before the fights.”

Sam gave him a deadpan look as long as she could, but then cracked up, laughing. “Oh, what the hell. You nailed it. He doesn’t like to have sex in the couple of weeks before a big fight, and because of the scheduling this time, our last hurrah will have to be tonight.”

“It’s a playroom behind the locked door, right?”

“Think what you want. I’m not talking about what we have stored in there.”

“My guess is a Saint Andrew’s Cross, some floggers and paddles—”

She interrupted. “Enough. Drop it already. I want to work on my ground game some more, will you grapple with me?”

* * * *

Sam had no idea what Ethan had told Jerrod, but she warned him Miguel would probably want to check her over tomorrow.

“He’s convinced the playroom is a playroom, but I’m not really comfortable with him knowing our dynamic. I can’t stop him guessing but I don’t want him to know for sure.”

He raised his eyebrows. “So you’re saying no marks tonight?”

“No, I’m just letting you know my wishes. We’ve already agreed you won’t do anything that may interfere with training, and while I’d like you to keep the marks to areas no one is likely to see, I want to have fun tonight, too.”

Ethan caressed her cheek. “They’re used to seeing you in a sports bra and bike shorts. I won’t mark your back up, but your ass is fair game.”

* * * *

Ethan had arranged for Jerrod and Miguel to stay in one of Master James’ cabins, though this was a two bedroom one, and not the one he’d lived in when he first came to town.

He herded both coaches out the door at three o’clock, and Sam figured she and Ethan would have some down time together before he got started. However, within minutes of the front door closing he was issuing orders.

“Take your clothes off and meet me in the playroom.”

Her body gave a little shiver of excitement at his words, and she rushed upstairs to put her clothes away.

Sam wasn’t surprised to see him situating the enema equipment when she stepped into the playroom. She’d developed a love/hate relationship with enemas — not terribly happy about the physical parts, but in love with the way it shoved his ownership of her front and center where she couldn’t ignore it. Or, perhaps
back
and center might be a better term.

He beckoned her to him. “Quick clean out first, before we strap you down. Spread your legs and grab your ankles.”

He used an enema bulb to pump soapy water into her, over and over. When she was frantic with need, squirming and begging, he kept going — back and forth from the large bowl of frothy water to her ass. “Please let me go to the bathroom, Master! Please!”

“Just another couple more. You can do it. The more we get you cleaned out now, the easier the next filling will be. You know how this works.”

Yes, she did, but she needed to
go
.

When he finally gave permission, she ran to the toilet and barely made it.

Without being told, she stood and ran in place to be sure most of the soapy water was out before he added whatever came next.

He motioned her onto their gyno table when she returned, and took his time strapping her in. She loved watching him work, so intent on each limb, so much attention to detail. Sometimes he was all business as he secured her, but today there were lots of caresses and kisses, as if each leg and arm was precious. Loved.
Adored
.

When he finished, she couldn’t move her legs or arms even an infinitesimal amount. While there was no bondage on her abs or hips, he’d done such a good job of restricting her limbs that she couldn’t move her torso, either.

She could wiggle her head, hands, and feet. Nothing else.

Sam whined as he pressed the inflatable nozzle into her ass, but he gave her an affectionate smile and said, “Oh now, none of that. Enemas don’t leave any marks. No one will know I filled you full of lemon water and flogged the hell out of your inner thighs and pussy while you held it.”

She’d been worried about the coaches noticing marks when she sparred with Ethan, and this was his way of assuring her he understood, but…he intended to
flog
her while she held the enema?

“Oh god, please don’t, Master! I don’t think I can handle extra pain on top of the enema cramps!”

“Too bad for you, there’s no paper and pen at hand. If you don’t like it you can always keep me from doing it again, but you’re pretty much shit-out-of-luck today.” He inflated the nozzles, and smiled sadistically when she gasped at the stretch inside. “You’re on your back because I’m going to let the water flow in until you look pregnant. I love the idea of filling you so full — putting more in than you think you can handle.”

Sam heard a click and felt warm water. “Thank you for making it warm, Sir.”

“You aren’t being punished.” He caressed her inner thigh. “It’s lemon water, so the cramps will be intense, but it doesn’t have even half as much lemon as your punishment enema on our honeymoon.”

He massaged her stomach when she complained of cramps, and slowed the water several times when she begged. There didn’t seem to be a threat hanging over her head if she asked him to go slower or stop for a few minutes, but she wanted this to be
over
, so she didn’t ask for a respite unless she had to.

When her stomach was swollen quite large she began a different kind of begging. “Sir, I can’t take anymore! No more!
Please
!”

He stepped to her head and caressed her cheek. “Sssshhh. Calm down. I lowered the bag five minutes ago; it’s barely a foot over you now. When you can’t hold anymore, the water will stop flowing in all by itself.”

When he finally disconnected her from the bag, she begged him to let her release, but he only showed her the flogger.

“It’s our nicest rubber one and is the least likely to leave marks.” He touched the outer balloon, hanging from her ass and still fully inflated “I love the idea of you being so full, and plugged so there’s nothing you can do about it.”

He put the flogger down and lightly touched her swollen stomach. “I can imagine you being pregnant one day, carrying our child. It’s a nice look for you.” He put his hands to either side of her stomach and looked left and right, as if measuring with his eyes. “This would be…about three or four months pregnant?”

“I don’t know, Sir.
God
, the cramps, and I’m so full!”

He chuckled and smoothed his hands down her stomach and to her pussy, letting one hand massage the area around her clit while the other teased her entrance.

“You’re likely to be even more full at some point, but first…” He stepped back, retrieved the flogger, and aimed a few light strokes to her inner thighs.

She flinched at first, but once she realized he was giving her a proper warm-up she relaxed into the table. The cramps lessened upon her calming exhale, so she took another cleansing breath and focused on relaxing even more.

“That’s my girl. Just accept it. You can’t stop it, can’t change it. Your body doesn’t belong to you, it’s mine. You have absolutely no say in what happens.”

His words lit even more of a fire in her blood, and her moan was pure bliss as his strikes fell harder. And harder.

The flogger occasionally thwacked her pussy between the strikes to her inner thighs, and Sam felt herself sinking into the cadence of the flogger, relaxing a little more with each strike of the rubber strands, despite the sting and burn.

“Someday I’m going to bring a nurse in and have them put a catheter in you, fill your bladder and block it off, too. Cram something large in your pussy, and a pretty dildo gag in your mouth. Maybe even use earplugs, just to fill all the holes I can.”

Sam’s head was shaking back and forth, but she didn’t ask him not to. The idea both thrilled and terrified her, and part of her wanted him to do it…to fill her so
completely
.

He stepped away a minute and returned to settle the modified spoon over her clit. The flogger swung with so much more intensity this time, and now there were gasps and the occasional scream as the strands repeatedly struck her inner thighs and pussy.

She heard herself randomly saying things like “god yes” and “more, please Master” and “yours, all yours” between the screams of pain and ecstasy.

The water in her gut occasionally moved inside her, and the cramps became foremost in her mind as the flogger’s sting went into the background. However, most of the time, she could focus on the exquisite sensations of the relentless rubber flogger, with the burning, stretching, and invading water filling her a backdrop to the thrashing.

Her Master struck a tiny bit harder and faster with each circuit of her inner thighs and pussy until her screams came almost nonstop. Sam was sure the flogger was taking skin with it on each and every strike, but she
wanted
the heat, the sting, the burn. As uncomfortable and occasionally painful as the water inside her was, she loved him for filling her so full and taking control of her body —
forcing
her to endure whatever it took to please his inner sadist.

When the flogging stopped she saw him move the stepstool to the base of the table and knew what would come next.

She welcomed his cock into her pussy, though it was a much tighter fit than she could ever remember.

“Master, I’m so full,” she said, her eyes closed in bliss.

“Yes, so full,
so
tight on my cock.”

He fucked her for what seemed an eternity — slow and steady without speeding or even thinking of going out of control.

He seemed to relish the spasms when she cramped, and refused to take the spoon off her clit no matter how much she begged.

“No orgasm for you just yet, Samantha Darling. Just lie there and feel my cock. Feel the water inside you.
Take
what I give you.”

The water seemed to push his cock into her g-spot on every slide out and back in, and she was so damned close to coming. If he’d ordered her to, she’d have done so even with the damned spoon on her clit, but with orders not to find release, she couldn’t.

Sam was sure she’d go crazy with need, but instead of begging she only said, “Yes, Master. I’m yours.”

When at last he took the spoon away and sped up, she was terrified he wouldn’t let her come. She’d braced the gate closed so long she had to remember how to release it when he finally gave permission, so there was a short pause — just enough time for her to get a breath and prepare before her world imploded. Her lower torso desperately tried to shake and convulse, but was restrained so well only her inner muscles could spasm and jerk, which moved and shifted the water inside of her until she was submerged in agony, which only pushed her orgasm higher.

She came until she was breathless, and when she thought it might finally be over Ethan massaged the area around her clit and she skyrocketed once again, this time begging him to
please
let her stop coming.

When the orgasm at last waned, he slowly pulled out and stepped off the stool. “Your choice.” He held up a finger. “You can hold the enema another thirty minutes while I go upstairs and get dinner started. I’ll let you down and you’ll have another thirty minutes to relieve yourself before we eat. Or,” he held up a second finger, “I’ll let you go to the restroom now, with a thirty minute time limit, and then I have another form of torture to put you through while I finish cooking dinner.”

She swam up out of her post-orgasm fog to process his words. No way could she last another thirty minutes of these horrible cramps, especially without him here to help get her mind off them, but…“What’s the other torture, Sir?”

“It won’t be the wooden pony.”

She already knew that. Sighing, she opted for immediate relief and said, “Please, Master, let me go to the toilet now.”

He nodded and began releasing her from the table, his movements methodical and efficient. Before he removed the final strap he said, “You’ll need to use the bathroom just inside the back door.” He smiled. “I want you on the first floor, just not too close to the kitchen.”

Sam felt her face go red, but nodded. He helped her stand and walked her up the stairs, the trapped water sloshing in her gut with each step. As before, he stood her in front of the toilet, released the air in the balloons, and pulled the nozzle out as she sat.

However, instead of leaving, he pulled alligator clamps from his pocket and said, “Sit up so I can put these on.”

“Not while I’m…” She started to argue, but the look on his face shut her mouth and she sat up and offered her breasts as the water poured out of her. He made quick work of putting them on, and then connected her wrist cuffs behind her back.