Safeword: Matte(10)
She gave a small nod, saying, “I beat Tom at sparring maybe once out of every twenty times we go at it. And I know he's pulling his punches even then. He hits just hard enough to win and no harder. But he hit you at full strength, and you took it and came damn close to beating him. Yes, I can wait. I can give you my submission today because I know you'll take it from me later. What should I do with my clothes when I take them off?”
“Place your shoes to the side and hand everything else to me. I'll expect you in nothing more than your g-string before you get into position.”
“How will things end? How will I know when I can talk?”
“If things go to shit then I'll be clear on when you can talk. If things go the way I'm hoping they will, when you've taken the thirty strokes I'll release you and carry you to one of the sofas down there and hold you for a while. I'll let you know if you can talk then, or if we'll wait to officially end the scene when we come back upstairs. There will be nothing sexual for either of us today. I'm not going to get you off, nor am I going to demand a blow job or hand job. I'm not opposed to doing that at play parties, but we've just met and I want privacy for the first time with you.”
“Can I come while you've got me tied up and beating on me?”
He smiled. “You can come from impact play alone?”
“Sometimes, not always. But, yes, when it happens it can be pretty explosive.”
He didn't appear to need any thought about his answer this time. “Normally, orgasms are only allowed when you’re given permission, but today we'll make an exception. You’re under no orgasm restriction rules at all, come as often as you like.”
* * * *
Sam tried to settle the piece of her that wanted to fight him as he put the leather cuffs on her wrists. She was comfortably kneeling on and bent over one of the most luxurious spanking benches ever, but she knew once she was strapped in the pain would start. She couldn't help it; she always wanted to fight during this part, to be dominated for real, to be forced into the bondage, strong armed into submission.
Ethan had retrieved what she assumed was his bag from a wall where other bags were also stored. She hadn't seen the bag until they got down here; he must have brought it down when he first arrived.
She realized she was rambling in her head, and forced herself to be still, to let him attach her wrists to the rings on the upper part of the bench, and her ankles to the footboard. She looked up at herself in the mirror, seeing the blue eyed brunette in the mirror and almost didn't recognize herself. She usually put her hair up for play so it would be out of the way, but he'd wanted it loose, draped over her shoulder. He put his hand on her back, let her feel his warmth and leaned down near her ear to softly say, “You're doing well, Sammy. I know you can release your wrists if you decide to, I saw you looking at them and thinking about it. I'm going to run some rope through the cuffs and tie it so you can't. I think you need to know you can't get out of this.”
Sam hated to be called Sammy and hoped he didn't make a habit of it. She'd use the signal safeword if he did it too much, as she needed to be able to tell him she didn't like it. So far, she wasn’t a fan of his speech restriction rule, but she’d agreed to it for this scene so she would follow through.
He reached into his bag and pulled some beautiful forest green rope out. Sam couldn't tell for sure, but it looked like silk rope. Her eyes followed his hands as he skillfully and methodically threaded it through cuff and ring, then draped it across the front of the bench and did the same with the other wrist. He put his mouth back at her ear, once again speaking so softly only she could hear him, his deep voice vibrating all the way through her. “I'm tempted to use this to restrain you so you can't move at all, restrain your hips and thighs and knees to the equipment. But I want to see you move, I want to see you try to escape the lash, I want to chase you down just a little bit today.”
He pulled back and reached into his bag again, taking a laminated sheet of paper out and placing it on the floor on top of her clothes, leaned against the mirror so the right half was yellow and the left half was red. He walked back to her again. “Show me yellow.”
She opened and closed her right hand a few times.
“Show me red.”
She did the same with her left hand.
“And you'll say red out loud to stop the scene completely. Nod that you understand.”
She nodded and he reached into his bag and pulled a wide piece of black PVC pipe out, pulled the top off of the pipe and unclipped a flogger from the clip in the top. She was familiar with the uses of various kinds of floggers, and this one was going to fucking hurt. He leaned down again, letting her see his eyes, see the sadist in him coming out before saying, “You understand there’s no warm up tonight. Tonight is about my hurting you within the limits you can handle. Use your hands to let me know your limits. If you communicate with me we'll make it through all thirty strikes without you saying the word red out loud. There is no shame in signaling yellow and red, I fully expect you to do it many times. You talked about Tom pulling his punches when you spar, this is about me learning how much strength I can use to lay into you. I don't have to flog you with all of my strength to satisfy my need to hurt you. Some people can take a lot, others can't take much. I only need to give you enough to make you scream, if that's at ten percent of my strength it’ll be as much of a turn on if it's at sixty percent of my strength. It's not a competition. I won't be impressed if you try to prove to me you can take more than you can. You will signal to me when you need me to back off, and when you need a break. Nod that you understand.”