Safewords: Davenport and Chiffon (21 page)

"I'm close Sir, I'm not sure I can hold back."

He shook his head. “You know the consequences; it's not open for discussion. Maybe you'll think before smarting off next time. Scoot closer to the side of the bed and spread your legs—careful of your injuries. Will it be better to have your knees bent and your feet near your bottom, or your legs straight in spread eagle?"

"Bent, Sir."

"I need you to put your hands out to your sides and get comfortable. If you move
anything
once we've started, you'll be severely disciplined later.” She opened her mouth to argue and he interjected with, “I'll allow toes and fingers, but that's it. Your head stays in place, too. I suggest you find a spot on the ceiling and stay focused on it."

Dana settled into a position she could hold and nodded her head.

The men moved around her, Zach kneeling on the bed on her right, Brent standing on the floor to her left, and Jacob still above her head—all three cocks hanging over her, and all rock hard.

Zach began jacking off, and Brent followed as she heard him telling Jacob to get started, and she knew what was coming. They'd all been close, so she didn't have to endure the indignity of three men beating off over her while she stayed frozen in place for too long before Zach's cum shot onto her cheeks, down her neck, and onto her breasts. Brent was next, his landing mostly on her chest, grunting out Jacob's permission as he finished emptying himself over her. She closed her eyes as spunk rocketed out of the cock over her forehead, felt it splashing on her face and chest, and concentrated on keeping her head exactly still, fighting her instincts to keep from jerking away and avoiding it.

The warmth was cooling as it began running down her cheek towards her hair, a finger caught it, pushed it up her cheek, smoothing it around, mixing it all together. She opened her eyes to see Zach's looking into hers as he finger-painted with the spunk on her face, his expression cementing the claim he was swirling on her body. He moved to her breasts and massaged it in before saying, “You've done well so far, not moving your head to avoid us—I'm pleased. You'll continue to stay absolutely motionless."

He looked toward Brent and nodded as he moved out of her line of vision.

"Jacob,” said Brent, “clean her with your tongue. Every last molecule."

"Yes, Brent."

The bed dipped as he climbed onto it—she couldn't see him, but didn't dare try to look down to get eye contact. In some ways, this was worse than being blindfolded.

Jacob's warm tongue swiped tentatively at the base of her rib cage and she wiggled her toes and fingers to keep from squirming under him. She hadn't realized how torturous this would be. She concentrated on her breathing while attempting to ignore the burn in her ass and the rasping tongue relentlessly licking closer and closer to her breasts.

When he reached her nipples, licking over them as a cat would with the flat of his tongue, the rough parts scraping over ultra-sensitive skin, she thought she'd lose it.

Her nipples were nothing compared to the sensation of him making his way up her throat and onto her face. She was amazed to discover having her face licked was more intimate than a mouth on her pussy. Now there was eye contact—the man who was submissive to her, cleaning her, doing it as a service, while her Master forced her to stay still and accept it. She had no idea how Jacob managed it without appearing dominant over her, but he did, and she was thankful.

Keeping her pelvis still was becoming harder and harder. She desperately wanted to hump the air, fuck an imaginary cock. She was in danger of coming, and wasn't sure she'd be able to hold it off much longer.

She was a little humiliated, or maybe objectified, at having the come of three men licked off her face, and the depth of Zach's ownership sank into her psyche and threatened to set her off like a cannon. Jacob's tongue swiped across her lips, up the base of her nose and across both sides of it, and over to her other cheek, his body leaning over hers so she could feel his hard cock at her hip. She moved her pelvis into it, a tiny movement she hoped the two Doms wouldn't notice, desperately wishing she could order Jacob to fuck her. He pulled up and looked down at her face, leaning in and licking the other side of her face from her ear up to the edge of her mouth before sitting back, moving out of her line of sight again.

"Good job, Jacob. You can get dressed—no time for a shower or we'll miss breakfast."

Zach's voice followed Brent's. “Well done, pet. You can move now. Here's a skirt and tee, and another shirt to go over the top of it. You shouldn't need a bra with the two shirts, and you don't get panties. Put them on and let's go."

She sat up and looked at the clothing, approving of his choice and agreeing she could get away with going bra-less for breakfast, where she wasn't likely to move around much.

"Permission to put make-up on to hide my bruises? And can Jacob help me with my hair to cover the stitches, please, Sir?"

He glanced at the clock and nodded. “Five minutes."

Dana was dressed and finishing her make-up when Jacob joined her in the bathroom. She'd already brushed the tangles out, so it only took him twenty seconds to maneuver her hair into place, but this time he put it in a loose ponytail, with the hair draping enough on the side to cover the stitches. He rubbed her shoulders a few moments when he finished, their eyes meeting in the mirror, clearly showing their love, with no words needed.

"Thanks Jacob, that looks good. God, I'm still so horny I can't see straight."

He kissed the top of her head, smiling. “Sorry. I'd help you with that if I could. C'mon, let's go eat."

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Dana had mixed emotions as they pulled into the driveway of Zach's home. Their home. Was it theirs? She'd left it awfully easily, and wasn't sure how much it felt like her place now, returning to it.

The four had decided during breakfast it'd be better to head to Zach's for the rest of the weekend. They'd checked out and explored the Tennessee Aquarium, since neither Brent nor Jacob had been. They'd taken in an Imax movie and then gone to a hilarious Murder Mystery Dinner Theater.

She opened her car door and stepped out the instant it stopped, walking to the trunk to wait for Zach to open it. Jacob exited as swiftly as she did, striding to her as he said, “Don't even think you're going to pull luggage out of there, you're still supposed to be babying your hand and shoulder."

She turned and snapped, “I'm not an invalid, dammit!"

He took a half step back and quickly recovered, his face showing compassion. “No, you're not. But there's no need in aggravating your injuries when we're here to... when I'm here to offer my services."

Zach's voice spoke softly beside her. “I think you owe Jacob an apology, Dana. That's not an order, just an observation."

Damn, he was right. She looked at her feet and took a breath, raising her head to look into Jacob's eyes, and saw the hurt in them. “I'm sorry; you were trying to help and didn't deserve my snapping at you. You've been so good to me, and I...” She sighed again. “There's no excuse, I'm sorry."

"Apology accepted,” he said, smiling sadly, “but only because I know you won't make a habit of it."

Stepping behind him, Brent placed his hands on Jacob's shoulders in support. “He doesn't mind being the whipping boy when it comes to whips, but words can cut him to the soul."

Fuck
, she knew this, and still she'd snapped at him. She leaned against the SUV Zach had driven, reached up to rub the area around her stitches, trying to calm the itchiness. “I know, which makes it even worse.” She dropped her hand and looked at the ground. “It's easier to screw up when you're the submissive, there's punishment and then it's all put behind you."

Looking back up, meeting Jacob's eyes, she added, “I'd offer to let you punish me, but it doesn't work that way, does it? I'm the one in charge. How can I be expected to control you if I can't regulate myself?"

She took another breath, grasping for a way express that she
knew
she'd screwed up. “I'll accept a forfeit, same as Brent, or we can come up with something else, if it'll make things right."

Jacob sighed and leaned into Brent. “Apology accepted. It hurt, but you understand why, and your eyes tell me how sorry you are. If it becomes a pattern we'll have a problem, but I won't throw everything away over it happening once. I love you, and I think I know where your head is, so I won't accept your offer of a forfeit.” Brent squeezed his shoulders and he added, “I'm not giving you an excuse, just explaining why I accept your apology."

Her eyes rose to Brent's. “Do you?"

He smiled, too, easing her heart a little. “Thank you for asking. Yes, I do, for the same reasons Jacob does.” His hands wrapped around his lover's body as he said, “I'm not perfect, either, and we've created a separate set of protocols to live by when I'm under a lot of stress."

Zach's hand touched her arm, caressing it as he said, “You both know where your room is here, I'd like an hour alone with Dana before we meet up in the playroom."

Brent looked at his cellphone and said, “Can we make it an hour and a half? I'd like some time in the playroom with Jacob before it's all four of us, and would like to get him settled in upstairs before we come down."

"Perfect. We'll see you then.” He let go of her arm and pulled both bags out, sitting them on the ground before pulling his own handle up and walking through the garage with it. “Come along, Dana. You got it out of the house I'm sure you can get it back in."

He waited for her at the bottom of the staircase, silently reaching for her bag and carrying them both up the steps, his eyes telling her not to argue. He left hers at the top of the stairs, letting her roll it the rest of the way to her closet.

She appreciated being allowed to bring it in—the unspoken message that he wasn't going to smother her, would let her do what she was capable of, but he'd put his foot down to be sure she wasn't hurt. She caught movement out of the corner of her eye as she was emptying her suitcase and swiveled her head to see him leaned against the doorway—arms crossed with a neutral look on his face.

"I assume it's a good sign you're unpacking?"

His question was like a knife through her heart and she stopped packing to turn towards him. “We're still a little uncertain of each other. How do we fix that?"

He closed his eyes, his expression pained. “I don't know,” he said, before opening them and uncrossing his arms to put his hands in his pockets. “Time, I guess? Last night, and this morning, I was sure I was doing what we both needed, but today I've second-guessed myself a dozen times, wondering if I went too far."

He pulled his hands from his pockets and moved to cross his arms again, and then dropped them. “Are you okay? Do you want to take another shower?"

She shook her head and went back to unpacking. “You didn't go too far. In a twisted sort of way, the ending drew the four of us closer. It felt... bonding? I don't know how to explain it."

"Yeah, I felt it too, as did Brent. The two of you talked a little at the Aquarium, right?"

Nodding, she said, “He wanted to confirm I was okay with his... participation. And I needed to understand his motivation. I kind of had it right; he can be turned on by any submissive taking pain for their Master, no matter the gender, plus, he's always stimulated by Jacob's submission, and whether he's submitting to me or Brent doesn't seem to be important."

She glanced up, went back to folding. “He says the two of you are working towards eventually being able to give orders to both of us when in a scene?"

"Yes, that's the plan, though we won't rush it. Their contract has to be altered; it's not something Brent can demand, Jacob will have to consent. He'll have to feel I'm worthy."

He walked towards her, but stopped a few feet away, as if afraid to touch her. His voice was soft, cautious. “Speaking of contracts, ours terminated when you left. I'm just happy to have you back; I won't push to revive it. It's up to you."

"I assumed it was reinstated when I submitted to you last night. You reclaimed me, Sir. As far as I'm concerned the contract is in force."

"I never make assumptions about contracts. If Brent and Jacob hadn't conspired with their Truth or Dare game, would we be this far along?"

"Probably not. I thanked Brent for that today, too—he pointed out Jacob should get most of the credit. I'll have to find a way to reward him. What was going through your mind when you kneeled before me?"

"How vulnerable I felt. How much I must've hurt you by stepping away when you put yourself in that position. Exactly what they wanted me to feel, I imagine."

Dana turned from him, put the last of her clothing away and began stripping—wanting to show him her submission, her desire to follow the rules.

"I'd like you to take another quick shower, and I want to put the TENS on you for its original purpose—as pain relief. We can't leave it on full time, but when you're sitting still I think I can keep your shoulder from hurting."

"Why not leave it on? It aches and throbs when I'm sitting still, but hurts when I use it."

"Pain's there for a reason, to keep you from re-injuring it, to make you baby it. I'll block the signals when you're resting, but not while you're moving around."

Dana was surprised to see Zach waiting with a towel when she stepped out of the shower. She stood and let him dry her, but her heart sank into her stomach when he said, “Inspection."

She'd shaved, but not to inspection protocols. She spread her legs and bent over, turning so the light shone on her pussy and ass, and felt his finger trace a path along both lips, across and around her asshole, down her legs, and back up.

"You forgot about inspection?"

"I'm sorry, Sir. I know it's the weekend, but I was in a hurry and trying not to get my head wet. I just hit the high spots, not really thinking."

He patted her on the ass, her cue she could stand. “I'll let it go today; we'll call it special circumstances. Sit on the bench so I can get the pads on you."