Safewords: Davenport and Chiffon (9 page)

He sighed, obviously frustrated. “I don't want you to think you're being punished for talking to Jacob. I like that the two of you are becoming close and have so much in common, but I'm upset you blew off a direct order.” He paused, clearly working to stay calm. “And the fact you ignored one of your few absolute rules? Tell me, what do
you
think I should do?"

"I'm sorry, Sir. I thought you just wanted me to go through the boxes first, before I started on my closet and office. I didn't realize it was an order to begin immediately. I have no excuse for being in the bed with clothes on, I just flat out forgot. If it'd been a normal day, so I was on a schedule, I don't think I'd have...” She stopped—he deserved better than lame excuses. Her eyes met his, and she hoped he'd see the truth in hers. “I'm sorry. Please do what you must to make things right between us."

"For starters, you'll spend tomorrow and Sunday without clothing—you won't be dressed again until you get ready for work Monday. You'll also sleep in the cage tonight, and possibly the next couple of nights, we'll see how things go. For now, go to the restroom, relieve yourself, brush your teeth, and put your hair up for sleep. Bring the lube back with you, and a hand towel."

Dana was miserable she'd disappointed him, and followed his orders as quickly as possible. When she came out of the bathroom he was undressed, and he took the towel from her, motioning to his already hard cock. “Get me slick. What goes on my cock is all the lube you'll get."

She generously lubed him, and he handed her the hand towel to wipe her hands. “Drape the towel over the back of the loveseat and lean over it."

His cock pressed at her asshole within seconds of her hips touching the sofa. She tried to relax and let him in, but she wasn't horny and hadn't been prepared. He didn't seem to care as he shoved in.

"Today isn't about your pleasure. I suggest you not even consider having your own orgasm."

There was no way she'd be able to come. She gasped in pain as he surged in and he said, “That's right; feel me taking your ass. Remember who owns it
now
? Give me your hands."

She reached back and he grabbed her forearms, pulling on them as if they were reins as he rammed his cock in her ass. They'd stopped using condoms the week before, and he'd been enjoying filling her bowels full of his cum on a regular basis.

He pushed all the way in and held. She was grateful he was giving her a chance to adjust, and she took advantage of the short reprieve, relaxing around him, trying to get used to his size.

"Put your right foot on top of the loveseat, keep your knee straight, just swing it up."

His cock held her asshole in place as she extended it up, her hips shifting with the move. He still had her arms pulled back, forcing her upper body to hover above the loveseat, and he pummeled her ass while using her forearms as leverage.

"Any accidental orgasms this weekend will be handled Sunday night. I suggest you find a way to control yourself or you'll have hell to pay forty-eight hours from now."

He pulled out and slid back in, let go of her hands and wrapped his fingers around her hipbones. Dana put her hands on the seat under her head, bracing herself. She hadn't wanted to come until she'd been told she couldn't, and now she needed to in the worst sort of way. Her clit was being mashed into the top of the loveseat, and with her leg stretched out to the side there was no way to protect it. She tried to remember the pain of her discipline, but the memory only shot excitement through her. Finally, she remembered Zach's tone of voice as he positioned her, and didn't want him even more upset with her.

She scooted herself back with her hands, just enough to keep her clit from getting so much stimulation. A few minutes later Zach came deep in her ass, grunting as he did.

When he pulled out he immediately shoved a large plug into her, stretching her wide and making her want to scream. She gasped instead, trying to remain silent, knowing she deserved the pain.

"It'll be in all night, trapping my cum in you, so get used to it. Stay put, let me clean up and put away."

She heard him walk into the restroom, and though he was only gone three or four minutes, it felt an eternity—lying over the sofa with her leg up, spread out, the huge plug distending her ass.

"Drop your leg and stand, slowly. Get your balance."

His hand gripped her waist as she stood, and he left it there as she turned so his arm was around her back, cradling her to him. “Let's walk to the other side of the loveseat, we need to talk."

He motioned her to the floor as he sat on the loveseat, and she kneeled at his feet, wincing as the plug shifted inside of her.

His voice was kind but firm. “You don't have too many rules, and yet I came upstairs to find you stretched across the bed with your clothes on. I told you to take care of the boxes in our bedroom, but you didn't do that, either. Are you testing me? Wondering what'll happen if you don't follow the rules?"

Dana looked at his feet and considered whether his question had merit. She wanted to make sure she answered the truth as she knew it, but she wasn't sure what had made her forget the rules.

"I don't believe so, Sir. I thought your statement about the boxes in here was that I should do them before I started in the other rooms, not an order to do it right away, and I honestly just wasn't thinking about the clothes in bed thing. I'm sorry, Sir."

"Tell me when you can wear clothes in bed."

"If I'm sick, or if there's a reason we can't heat the house properly and you agree it's too cold, and pajama bottoms are allowed when it's that time of the month."

"Are you on your period now? Are you sick? Is it too cold in here for you?"

She shook her head, still not able to look him in the eyes. “No, Sir."

"You spent time in the cage while I considered my options partly because I don't want it to appear you're being punished for talking to Jacob. To be clear—you'd be disciplined whether you were on the phone with Jacob, your mother, or a client. I might also be willing to accept a misunderstanding about the boxes if you hadn't so blatantly broken two of the few rules I've given you."

She didn't know what to say, she just stared at his feet, the shape of his toes under his socks.

He sighed. “Talk to me, Dana. Do you need more daily discipline? Something to remind you of your status? You helped come up with these rules. I care enough about us to enforce them, but I'm trying to understand what made you flaunt them and practically
dare
me to do something about it."

Shaking her head, her eyes began to water—his unsaid words, that she didn't care about their relationship enough to obey the rules, stinging worse than a whip could possibly wound. “I don't know, Sir. It's been a long day, and I wasn't thinking.” She was so miserable she didn't care that her voice was tinged with tears. “I understand I need punishment. I didn't before. You're right, I helped come up with the rules, and then I forgot one of the most basic."

His voice softened. “Okay, sweetheart. Look up; I need to see your face."

Her heart splintered as their eyes met, and tears spilled over her cheeks with the knowledge she'd been the one to make him so unhappy.

"I still love you; I still want you in my life. I'm frustrated at the way we'll have to spend our first weekend officially living together, but it doesn't mean I regret anything. Okay? I'm glad you and your things are finally here."

She breathed a little easier, not realizing until she heard the words how much she'd needed to hear them. “Thank you, Sir.” She said, her voice watery. “I love you, too."

He nodded and took a breath, as if bracing himself. “You'll be locked in the cage tonight, tomorrow night, and Sunday night. Scene rules apply from now until six o'clock Monday morning. You won't be allowed release; any accidental orgasms will be dealt with Sunday evening. If I catch you masturbating or in any way touching yourself, you'll be denied orgasms during Jacob and Brent's visit. I'm very serious about this Dana—
no orgasms this weekend
. I'll fuck you and use you as much as I want, but you won't be getting off. Do you understand?"

"Yes, Sir."

"You do not have permission to use furniture, nor will you be allowed clothes. You may sit or lay on the floor, and you may rest in your cage—the door will be open when you aren't in it. You have lots of work to do this weekend, organizing your closet and office, so you'll have unfettered use of your legs and arms most of the day. You'll be in a tight corset during waking hours, and I'll put you in your waist cincher tonight. You won't use the bathroom without authorization, nor will you eat or drink anything unless I order you to do so. Bring me your cellphone; I'll monitor your voice mail and will allow you to return phone calls if a client needs you; but otherwise—no phone, internet, or television."

"Will you let Jacob know I won't be allowed to call him tomorrow? I told him I would, and I don't want him to think I forgot."

"I will.” He stared at the wall over her head a few seconds before dropping his gaze and leaning forward, bringing his body closer, but still not touching her. “I'm reminding you of your status this weekend. You want to know what happens if you don't follow the rules? You lose many of the privileges you've been taking for granted. You'll be treated as property this weekend, and not as a treasured pet."

"I understand, Sir. Thank you for helping remind me."

He looked at her for several heartbeats before saying, “You really mean that, don't you? You aren't just paying lip service to it?"

"I do mean it, Sir. I honestly don't believe my intention was to test you, but since I didn't follow the rules, I understand you need to enforce them or they'll mean nothing. I'm going to hate it, but I'll survive, and I know I didn't give you any choice. I'm truly sorry for my actions, Sir—for placing you into the position of having to do this."

Dana survived the weekend, and she was correct about hating most of it. He made her eat from a bowl on the floor a few times, and he gave her several liquid meals she drank with a straw. There were no meals from his hand; she was treated as livestock, not a pet.

Her waist cincher was traded for a corset both mornings, and he'd pulled it tighter than she'd thought possible. This made breathing more difficult when he put her on the stairstep machine for twelve minutes at a time throughout the day on Saturday and Sunday, with the TENS unit hooked to a painfully large butt plug, and a nasty shock jolting her when she slowed.

She made a lot of progress in her office Saturday, though he interrupted a few times to either bend her over something to fuck one of her holes, or demand she kneel and open her mouth so he could fuck her throat. Both times he'd zipped up when done and casually told her to get back to work. She asked to clean up after he'd used her pussy, but he wanted to see his cum running down her legs and told her she didn't have permission to wipe it away.

Sunday went much the same, except she worked in her closet. He used the enema nozzle in the shower that morning, filling her and then holding her as she released—several times, not just once—saying she'd been wearing the plug so much he wanted to ensure she was cleaned out before he reinserted it. He'd fastened her back into the corset after her shower, and came to get her every couple of hours throughout the day for the stairstep machine—once making her do it with a large vibrating egg in her pussy alongside the huge plug hooked to the TENS.

At bedtime each night he dressed her in a sweatshirt with a hood, and sweatpants with the crotch cut out, situating her in the center of the bed with ankles and wrists pulled towards the outer corners of the headboard. Three strong clips had been placed on each labia, and they'd been roped to the bedrails, exposing the delicate inner skin of her pussy. He'd used a short rubber flogger until she was screaming her safeword, but this was punishment and he didn't stop until long after she'd run out of the energy to scream and beg. When he finally stopped he rubbed cinnamon oil on the battered area, further inflaming the sensitive nerve endings, and stowed her in the cage with her wrists connected to the front of her collar, and her ankle cuffs linked closely together with no chain between.

The hardest part of the ordeal was being treated as property, or livestock. He'd told her to put the garments on, and told her to lie in the center of the bed on her back, but then hadn't said another word to her for the rest of the evening. There'd just been his icy blue eyes focused on the chore of disciplining her as he maneuvered her into place and then hurt her. When he released her from the bed he'd merely stripped her clothes, attached wrists to collar, and silently walked her to the cage.

When Monday morning finally arrived he awakened her thirty minutes early and sat on the loveseat with her curled in his lap, wrapped in the protective cocoon of his arms as he told her how much he loved her and assured her the punishment was over and she was his treasured pet again.

He also told her not to get herself off in the shower, and she turned to protest. She'd done so good, not coming a single time all weekend even though he'd used her to get himself off numerous times from Friday evening until the night before, but he raised his palm and stopped her before she could say anything. “We agreed to a short list of things I can control during your workday, if I choose, and you should consider yourself still on orgasm restriction."

"Punishment is supposed to be over, Sir."

"And it is, but I want your next release to come from me, not from your hand. I'm pleased with the poise you exhibited—I wasn't easy on you, and other than the enema release you handled everything with beauty and grace. I know how close you were to losing control a few times; I know how hard it was to hold onto it, to deny yourself. Come home to me as quick as you can this evening so we can discuss the weekend, put it behind us for good, and then see how many earthshattering orgasms I can pull out of you in one evening."

"Do we have to talk first?"

He laughed, his eyes sparkling and happy. “Yes, I'm afraid we do."