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Safeword: Davenport(33)

By:Candace Blevins


His eyebrows furrowed in displeasure. “You'll have to explain it to me. You know how this works. I'm the one making decisions, and I can't make good judgments without the right information."

She closed her eyes and looked away. “I need to go to the bathroom, Sir. Please."

He immediately pulled the key over his head, flipping the covers so he could reach her ankle. She swept her feet off the bed as soon as the chain was off—standing quickly and almost falling over without the use of her hands for balance. He was close enough to reach across and keep her from tumbling, but she could tell by his tone of voice he wasn't happy with her.

"You're supposed to wait for me to help you when you don't have the use of your hands."

He pushed across the bed and slid off, standing beside her. His face still showing displeasure, he grasped her arm and walked her to his bathroom, gently situating her on the toilet.

She breathed a sigh of relief when he stepped around the corner and turned the shower on, thankful for the privacy. It took her a moment to get the stream to flow while keeping enough tension at her ass to hold the njoy in, but once she got started her bladder took forever to empty. She remained seated when she finished, squeezing her ass tight, not daring to stand without him again.

Zach rounded the corner and reached for the toilet tissue, patting her dry without a word. He methodically flushed and stood her up, directing her with his hands on her arms to the other wall, leaning her back against it. He didn't look at her face, stayed busy with his tasks as he unlocked both locks before removing the wrist cuffs and collar.

He finally looked at her, his displeasure still evident in his eyes as he pointed to the shower. She silently walked to it, opening the glass door and stepping into the warm water. Her pulse picked up as she recognized the wrist cuffs from the pool, hanging from a hook.

He followed her in and closed the door, speaking to her from several feet away. “I've told you I require full honesty at all times. If you wish to upset me, the easiest and quickest route is withholding information, or giving me half-truths. I see these things as undermining the foundation of any good relationship. An all-out lie will stop a scene so we can speak of it as adults outside of the power exchange, and may very well end our relationship. This wasn't an all-out lie, so it's forgivable, but you tried to keep information from me that you knew I'd want, and I'm angry, not just disappointed."

He took a breath; let it out—obviously trying to regulate his emotions. “I realize you'd just awakened, and I understand you've got hang-ups around waste excretions. I need to discipline you, but I also want to help you feel comfortable talking to me about your needs. You'll receive a brief punishment, and then we'll work on making you less uptight about the things your body does naturally. Raise your arms to the cuffs, please."

Dana quickly complied, her heart in her stomach. “What are you going to do?"

He finally stepped to her, but focused on the cuffs as he talked. “You'll find out in due time. It's not something we've negotiated to do without a safeword, so you'll have one, though I don't see any reason you'll need it."

He moved away from her as soon as her wrists were trapped in the cuffs, giving her just enough slack to stand flatfooted, though she felt the stretch through her ribcage. She pulled at them, knowing they'd hold but needing to test them anyway. One showerhead was slightly in front of her, aimed at her forehead so she couldn't get out from under it, and she turned her head to the side to breathe. He adjusted the other two showerheads so one pulsed at her upper back from the right, and the other at her ass from the left. He fiddled with a nozzle in the wall before her until it was soaking her breasts.

"I'll be right outside the glass doors."

She was confused about why he considered this punishment, until the water suddenly turned ice cold—the shock freezing her muscles. She couldn't breathe in, couldn't scream, and when she finally managed to pull air into her lungs, her pride kept her quiet. Her feet danced below her while her body remained in place—she tried to move sideways, forwards, backwards, but her cuffs were too high. She lifted her legs and bent her arms, trying to pull above the cascading water, but couldn't escape enough of it to make a difference.

Once the initial shock was over, the cold made her hurt and her muscles began to draw up. She fought it—pushed herself to keep moving, thrashed her face from side to side—but finally went still, forced to accept the cold raining down, her head bowed forward so the water hit the top of her scalp and allowed her to breathe. Her chest heaved, and warm tears mixed with the cold water as her body shivered uncontrollably.