No Safeword: Matte - Happily Ever After (Safewords) (5 page)

The fist pressed into her until just the wrist spread her open, and then reversed direction, once again stretching her to maximum width before it came all the way out and immediately pushed back into her. Sam screamed as it spread her again, and Ethan’s hand gripped her breast harder as he commanded her to be still. Unfortunately, her body seemed to be in control and as the fist came out again she jerked to the side so the woman took several long seconds to get back inside of her. Sam felt a large, male hand on each of her hip bones, pressing down and holding her in place as the hand inside of her picked up speed and literally
punched
in and out of her. Sam’s screams filled her head as she fruitlessly tried to thrash, but was held firmly in place.

Ethan’s other hand landed on her other breast, and he squeezed both painfully through the constricting plastic as he pressed her upper torso into the table, further restricting her movement.

She didn’t have to worry about an orgasm, there were too many sensations, too much happening, and her body was too overwhelmed to find release. Sam’s screams picked up in intensity, and if she hadn’t been so well conditioned to keep from saying words without permission, she’d have begged for it to stop.

Another hand rested over the top of her clit and pressed down, and Sam suddenly needed to come, and was terrified she might not be able to hold onto it. She squeezed Ethan’s finger harder, and grabbed at his wrist with her other hand as her screams turned to pleas and she begged with every ounce of her being as she barely managed to keep the orgasm at bay.

One of his hands left her breast and he said, “Not yet. Hold onto it.”

She could barely hear him over her own noises, and with her feet bound and the hands pressing into her hipbones, she couldn’t even push up towards the fist.

Her body wanted more, but her brain needed everything to slow down so she could hold back the release threatening to engulf her more and more with each punch of the invading fist. Sam wasn’t in control of anything except the floodgates, holding back a wave of bliss growing astronomically with each passing second.

The hand in her pussy was suddenly gone, followed by the hands on her hips. Her legs were released from their bondage. Ethan lifted her and took half a dozen steps before standing her up and holding onto her as he said, “You’ll feel something touch your pussy in a few seconds. You still don’t have permission to come.”

Sam thought she might go crazy if she didn’t orgasm soon, and when the hard bar touched her from below she let some of her weight rest on it for a brief second, but it was painful and she went to tiptoes. 

Hands gripped her ankles, and a spreader bar stretched her legs out to the side, which made the hard bar under her pussy
hurt
. She squealed in discomfort until the hands moved from her ankles and she could push up on her toes again.

Her wrists were released from the bondage collar only to be pulled behind her, and her arms wrapped in leather. Damn, they were going to put her in an armbinder while she was dealing with this damned bar under her?

“In medieval times,” Ethan said, “men created a torture called
riding the pony
. Women were sometimes left on it for days, bruising their private parts from pubic bone to asshole as they moved forward and back trying to find relief.”

Sam realized during the time her weight had been on the bar, she shifted her weight, trying to find the least painful position between pressure on her clit, her already tender pussy, and her asshole.

Her arms were slowly pulled closer and closer together, and with the plastic around her rib cage and abdomen, and now her arms pulled so far behind her, breathing was becoming more and more difficult.

Someone removed the contraption holding her shoulders back, which gave her no relief because now the armbinder was holding them back.

“I intend to leave you on the pony forty-five minutes today, and I’ve made sure you’re horny when you begin. If we decide to use this as a standard consequence there’ll be no arousal beforehand, and you’ll spend a minimum of ninety minutes riding the wooden pony.”

Sam’s body stilled as her brain parsed his words. This was what he was considering as a long-term consequence?
Shit
.

“You won’t spend the entire time today under sensory deprivation.” Sam was sure it was Ethan tightening her armbinder now, as the pulling stopped when he talked. She grunted as her arms were drawn even closer together, and she pushed higher on her tiptoes to try to relieve the pressure on her tender girl-parts.

She already hurt from clit to asshole, and it couldn’t have been more than a couple of minutes. It wasn’t excruciating yet, but she’d moved past discomfort and into pain, and couldn’t imagine forty-three more minutes.

When Ethan finally stopped pulling her arms together she felt them lifted by the end of the armbinder, and he must have tied them off to something over her head. They weren’t pulled up so far it torqued her shoulders much worse than the armbinder alone, but far enough she wouldn’t be able to lean back and touch the bar behind her.

She couldn’t know for sure, but she had the sense he stepped away as he continued talking. “I love watching you go up and down, forward and back. I don’t know if you can get yourself off on the pony, but if you can, you have permission.”

Sam shook her head to let him know she couldn’t orgasm, and he chuckled. “I didn’t think so, but you never know with you so I figured I should cover my bases. You’ve almost hit the five minute mark, only forty more to go.”

Sam groaned and Ethan said, “You have no idea how sexy you are right now. I won’t fuck you right after you get off today because I know you’ll be hurting, but if I do this to you for punishment, you have to know you’ll be thoroughly fucked, possibly in both your pussy and ass, when you finally come off.”

Sam pushed up to her toes again, but the spreader bar had her at an angle so she was almost entirely on her big toes unless she bent her ankles. She lasted only a minute or so before she gently lowered her weight back onto her bruised clit, held out for as long as she could and rolled her hips until her weight was on her asshole. When the wood-like texture pressed too far into the sensitive flesh she rolled forward and let her pussy — already tender from being fisted — bear her weight for a short time before she pressed back up onto her toes.

Ethan was silent for a long time, so she only heard the annoying beat-less music and the sound of her own desperate breathing as she shifted and moved.

It occurred to her the other two women were likely still on the bondage table, with the last submissive experiencing what it was like to be fisted by a female hand. They were all in the same room, but may as well have been miles and miles apart. Her friends had no idea what she was going through, or whether she was even still here.

She jerked when a hand touched her shoulder, and squealed in pain as the unintentional movement pressed her asshole viciously into the wood.

The tension holding her arms up relaxed, and Ethan said, “It’s time to pull your arms a little closer together. If you work with me, I’ll cut the plastic from your torso so you can breathe better.”

Sam relaxed her arms as much as possible, desperate to get the damned plastic-wrap off. She could feel the sweat running under it, but mostly she just wanted to fill her lungs with sweet, sweet oxygen.

She heard herself whining as her arms pulled back more and more, but forced her shoulders and upper back to stay relaxed. When she was sure they couldn’t go any farther, she twisted her body and yelped, but he only slapped the outside of her right thigh and told her to behave and take it. She stilled and let him continue, and he said, “You worked with me until the end so I’ll still cut the plastic away, but you’ve earned some time with the alligator clamps. Do that again and I’ll alternate alligator and clover clamps every five minutes for an hour, with just enough time to let the blood flow back into them in between.”

Ethan had alternated them once before, but only for twenty minutes, and the pain on the final two rounds had been more intense than she’d thought possible. The alligator teeth bit into the nipple, while the clover clamps mashed them flat. Alternating them meant layering different kinds of pain over and above with each new cycle, and had been excruciating. She was certain she couldn’t handle it for an hour, and decided to be very, very, still — no matter how bad her shoulders and chest hurt.

As promised, when he stopped pulling on her arms she felt the paramedic shears cut the plastic away. She discovered she still couldn’t completely fill her lungs with her arms pulled behind her so far, but she could breathe much better.

He didn’t give her any warning before the alligator clamps bit down on her left nipple, and then her right, and she screamed and pulled back, which made her go onto her tiptoes and shriek as her poor bruised crotch involuntarily pressed into the wood.

“I’m going to remove the headphones and hood. I’ll put sunglasses on you to protect your eyes, so keep them closed and open them slowly once you feel the sunglasses.”

Sam nodded her understanding, and the room’s sounds flooded her senses as the headphones came off.

He loosened her bondage collar long enough to unzip and peel the leather from her head, and Sam opened her mouth and closed it a few times, working her jaw when she hadn’t even realized it’d gone stiff from being forced closed for so long. He gave her a few minutes before once more snugging her collar against her throat.

She’d gone up to tiptoes while he worked, and as the sunglasses settled on her face she gently let herself back down, with her hips angled so her weight was on her asshole. Her fingers touched the bar behind her, but her shoulders hurt too bad for her to put any weight on her arms. Ethan made a disapproving noise and within seconds her wrists were pulled up again, a touch higher this time than before. Or, maybe it was the same and just felt farther because her arms were closer together? She didn’t know.

A warm hand touched her stomach and she let her eyes open a teensy bit, testing to see if she could handle the light. It hurt, but she kept them open an infinitesimal amount until it didn’t, and then closed them, and opened them a little more. As the room came into view she saw her friends several dozen feet in front of her, strung up side-by-side with their arms over their heads and ankle cuffs chained to rings set into the floor.

Ethan’s hand touched her cheek. “You aren’t quite halfway through your time, Darlin’. I’m going to go play with your friends while you finish up here.”

Her Master walked to one of the tables and lifted a long, heavy flogger. He stepped behind the two women, waited for their masters to nod to him, and started a figure eight with strikes to Viv’s upper back on the right-hand loops, and Kirsten’s as he swung left. Both women grunted as the air was knocked from their lungs — Ethan hit hard, and they hadn’t been expecting the strikes. He picked up speed and Sam watched the muscles in his back and arm as they shifted and moved.

In mere seconds, Sam’s legs were unable to hold her, and she gave her own anguished groan as she once again lowered her tortured pussy to the hateful, narrow wooden bar.

Now that she could see it, she knew she’d been right about the wood. The beam was shaped like a triangle, and while someone had sanded the top to a nice smooth round, it felt
so
much sharper than it looked.

She’d tried to come down off-center some while blindfolded, but it’d only hurt worse. Now, with her sight, she tried it again, but she only verified every possible position was excruciatingly agonizing. All she could do was alternate between the five or six least torturous positions.

A change in the sounds around her had her looking back to her friends, and she saw their masters flogging their chests as Ethan whaled on their backs. Both girls thrashed in their bondage, fruitlessly trying to escape the lashes. She couldn’t see their faces, but could tell by their sounds they were still gagged. As Kirsten leaned sideways, Sam saw the gag-strap on the back of her friend’s head and realized she was still the only submissive without something in her mouth to keep her from forming words.

She felt a little pride that Ethan had such confidence in her training, and groaned as she once again pushed up and away from the hated wooden beam, and put stress on her thighs, calves, ankles, and toes. She couldn’t last more than a few seconds in any one position now, and was almost constantly moving.

Sam’s nipples ached almost unbearably, and her crotch was both numb and on fire. Hurt joined hurt until she was a ball of agony as she shifted from one terrible position to the next. Every muscle in her body was tired as she balanced on the pony, and she even found herself using the rope attached to her wrists to press weight onto her contorted shoulders to help keep herself upright.

Tears formed in her eyes and she tried to fight them, as she didn’t want Tyler or Master James to see her cry. She felt the air conditioning come on and realized her entire body was covered in sweat. The cool breeze felt good on her heated skin, and she got her tears under control with a few deep breaths that pulled and stressed the already torqued muscles in her shoulders and chest.

The flogging in front of her stopped and Ethan came to check her over. He took her sunglasses off, kissed her nose, and walked to a side table to deposit the glasses before taking the position Master James had occupied earlier, standing in front of Kirsten.