Safewords: Davenport and Chiffon Read online

  "That's two quarts, you've done very well."

  He removed the nozzle and Dana clenched tight, terrified she'd let some loose. “Can I go to the bathroom now, please Sir?"

  "Not just yet. I won't make you hold it long, but I think longer than thirty seconds is in order.” He looped the nozzle up and wrapped a small towel around it as he said, “We're going to roll you onto your back, then onto your right side a moment before returning to your current position. We'll go slow. Ready?"

  Fuck no she wasn't ready

  "Sure.” She bent her legs and rolled to her back, groaning as the water shifted. It wasn't painful, exactly, but she was so full it was uncomfortable and awkward. Zach put a hand on her left shoulder and urged her to roll on over. She let her knees fall towards the bed, slowly, and he supported her shoulders so her body turned at the same time. A cramp hit as she was settling into that side and he rubbed her tummy, feeling out the convulsing areas and massaging them with expert fingers.

  Dana had such mixed emotions about the experience; accepting an enema can be the ultimate expression of how much control someone has over your body. As Zach helped her through it—becoming both tormentor and comforter—her mind didn't know whether to resent or appreciate him. Logically, she wanted him to own her, and this certainly went far towards that end. But emotionally? She felt like a two year old, somewhere between tantrum and ‘hold me.'

  When the cramp was over he talked her through rolling back to her left side before helping her up, allowing her into the bathroom without him again, but leaving the door open about an inch. She was so relieved to be rid of the pressure in her bowels she couldn't be too mortified about the sounds he was hearing.

  When she finally thought all of the water was gone, she returned to the bedroom.

  "Sir? Can I take a quick shower, please?"

  "Not just yet, I'd like you to do the highstep thing the Rockettes do. You know, knee up and foot up? You can hold onto the doorframe for balance if you need. Fifty, please."

  She made it to twelve and had to go again, saying “Sir! I—", but he interrupted with, “Go."

  When at last he deemed it was okay for her to shower, she was exhausted. He'd put everything away by then and had the bed turned down, and he had her chug a bottle of sports drink and then rubbed her back and shoulders until she fell asleep.

  She was awakened by kisses on her neck, a hand on her breast. She moaned in pleasure, arching her back, pushing her ass against the cock she felt behind her.

  "Oh good, you're awake. Do you need to use the restroom?"

  She looked at the clock—four minutes after three, and the a.m. dot was glowing.

  "Dana?"

  Oh, he'd asked a question. She tried to wake her brain enough to process his words.

  "Yes, I do, please. The sports drink must have gone through me."

  "Come back to bed when you're done. I need to retrieve some items from the kitchen, I won't be long."

  Dana was under the covers when Zach returned. He'd flipped the lights on before he left, and she'd been tempted to switch them off. She hadn't, though.

  A large stainless steel bowl was cradled between his left arm and chest, and another in each hand. He set all three bowls on his side of the bed near the footboard and made a trip to the bathroom, returning with a giant bottle of lube and several bath towels, draping one of them over the line of bowls.

  "We need to put the towels down. Stand and help me, please."

  When they finally had everything organized, she was laying on her back with her knees up in the air, classic missionary position, and Zach was sitting below her. She felt like she was at the gyno's office.

  "I trust you're awake now?"

  "Yes, Sir. I'd rather be asleep, though."

  "But that's not your call to make, is it?"

  "No, Sir."

  "Would you like it to be your call?"

  She thought a minute and reluctantly, said, “No, Sir. If I want you to have control, I should accept I'm not going to like all of your decisions. I can't just let you have authority when you're doing what I enjoy."

  He nodded and pulled the towel off the bowls, spreading it between her feet and dumping the contents of one of the bowls onto it.

  It was a chain. A big, shiny chain. Not like a necklace, but something you'd use to restrain a large dog. Or a bear.

  He lifted one end and squirted lube on it. “This is stainless steel, and there are four feet of it.” His gaze rose to meet hers. “I intend to get all four feet inside of your pussy. Have you have had this done before?"

  Dana shook her head. Speechless.

  "I'll go slow so we can stop any pinching before it gets too bad. It's not supposed to hurt, tell me if it does."

  The process was clinical at first—lube a few links, push them in; lube a few more links, push them in. She felt a slight pinch a handful of times, but as soon as she started saying “Ow,” he was straitening things out and fixing it.

  "I fully expect you to have at least two orgasms without permission tonight. Punishment won't happen until tomorrow, and I'm not telling you what it'll be; only that it won't involve your back or ass, and the minute you'll withstand for every unsanctioned climax will make you lament losing control. Two minutes will be quite painful, but bearable. More than that? Let's hope you don't go there."

  He fell silent, concentrating, engrossed in the process.

  Eventually, she began feeling full, moaning with every link he packed in. The lube time was a rest period, where she relaxed a second and then prepared herself to be stuffed still more.

  "I'm so full, Sir. I can't hold more. That's it. Please."

  "But more still fits. See? There went another. And look, I can put my finger in and mix them around,” he said, ignoring her gasp. “There's plenty of room. I know you feel full, but I want to see even more inside of you.” His voice grew firmer. “Look at me, Dana. Do you wish me to stop when I'm not finished?"

  She'd been watching his hands, with the chain in one and lube in another. She raised her eyes and met his, saw an intensity that made her breath catch and her heart trip over it, and she recognized his need.

  "No, Sir. I don't want you to stop."

  The metal grew hot inside of her, the weight of it pushing against her g-spot, rubbing and pressing more and more with each link until she thought she'd go mad with lust. “I need to come, Sir! Please!"

  "Not yet.” He shook his head. “You don't have permission."

  The driving need inside of her grew desperate. “I'm not sure I can stop it. Please help me, Sir. Please!"

  A tug vibrated through her as he gently laid the chain on the bed, and she was grateful he hadn't just dropped it. He wiped the lube off his hands before he placed them on her knees. “Slow your breathing—fill your lungs completely, then empty them. Feel the air brushing against your windpipe. I only have another four or five insertions and it'll be in you. Let me know when you're ready for me to finish. You can do this."

  She listened to the calming sound of his voice, felt the warmth of his hands on her knees anchoring her to the non-erotic parts of her body, and did as he said—slowing her breathing and backing out of the orgasm.

  She nodded. “Okay, Sir. I'm ready."

  "Excellent. I'm pleased."

  The final links were terrible and beautiful. She felt as if her insides were so expanded nothing else could possibly fit, and yet he kept pushing more into her. When he finally pushed the last link inside, so none was hanging out, the sensation took her breath away. She was incredibly turned on, her heartbeat stronger in her lower belly than it was in her chest, and a fire raged inside of her that almost overwhelmed her—but she wasn't in danger of an impending orgasm, so she could enjoy the sensations.

  "I have a challenge for you, before we begin the next stage of stuffing you full."

  The next stage? What was he talking about? No way would he get anything else in.

  "I'm going to help you stand—slowly. Once you're
up, I want you to walk to the door, then to the end of the hallway before walking back to bed."

  He put one arm behind her back and another under her knees, turning her until her legs were sideways off the bed. She gingerly slid off, with him holding her upper arm for support, and could feel gravity shifting the chain as the weight left the rear wall of her pussy and transferred to her pelvic floor. She took her first step, Zach still steadying her, and gasped as her muscles embraced the unyielding metal, detonating against sensitive nerve endings and sending her blood boiling. She clenched hard to make sure nothing came out, but realized the entire mass couldn't fall out as one unit.

  He let go of her after the third pace, assured her balance was okay. Dana walked out of the room and carefully made her way down the hall. Zach was leaning in the doorway when she turned, eyeing her like a leopard watches a gazelle, and she held eye contact as she walked towards him, his dominance making her feel more submissive with every step.

  She was about five feet away from him when the chain and muscles moved together just right and her control shattered like a dropped mirror as her insides splintered into powerful spasms around the unforgiving steel—the orgasm taking her over, stealing her breath and shaking her to the very core.

  Her hand flew to her pussy, as if it could hold everything in place from the outside, and her knees crumbled. Zach was at her side immediately, his arm around her, helping her to the ground as her body spasmed around the heated metal inside of her.

  Zach held her through it, supporting her, making soothing sounds. When it finally played itself out she was exhausted and just wanted to fall over and go back to sleep.

  "I'm sorry, Sir."

  "I'm not upset with you, not even disappointed at your willpower. Learning to control your orgasms will be a journey, and you're just beginning. Yes, there'll be consequences when you can't hold them off, but it doesn't mean I'm angry. Come, stand up, let's get you back in bed."

  He walked beside her, his arm around her waist, and helped her climb in, face down this time.

  His hands separated her legs, spreading them wide, and she felt him sit behind her. She heard, “Relax,” and felt something pushing at her asshole, slowly spreading it open, but only for a moment before it slid in. All the way in

  "Sir? What is it?"

  "It's a grape. I'm going to fill you with them. These are room temperature, so count your blessings as I've been known to freeze them first. Here comes another. Relax for me."

  She whimpered as it went in, struggled at the sensation of needing to go. She wiggled her hips, trying to make the feeling go away, and the chain shifted inside her, almost giving her another spontaneous orgasm.

  "Oh!"

  He chuckled. “Yes. Oh. This one's a little larger. Open up."

  Dana counted eight grapes before his finger intruded, rummaging around and moving the grapes inside of her, pressing against the thin wall of her vagina so he rubbed against the chain. It was all too much and she groaned again, experiencing something between pleasure and agony. She was nowhere near her symbolic twelve o'clock—this was discomfort, not pain, and yet she couldn't decide if the discomfort were outshining the pleasure, or whether her bliss had the upper hand. She wanted to ask permission to go to the bathroom, but figured he'd let her go when he was ready. She doubted he was ready yet.

  He alternated fingering her and inserting grapes until the urge to go to the toilet was an all-encompassing need. She forgot the chain; stopped thinking about everything except the feeling in her bowels, the opening and closing of the ring of muscles holding the grapes in, and the sound of his voice.

  She thought he'd let her go to the bathroom when he helped her stand, but he only turned her around to have her lay on her back in bed. The chain and grapes shifted as she stood, and again as she reclined backwards. The chain was part of her now, but the grapes were a foreign invasion. She didn't consider asking to go to the bathroom, he was in charge and she belonged to him—her body was his to do with as he pleased.

  He situated her on the bed so her ass and feet were near the edge, while he remained standing. A finger lightly touched the outside of her asshole. “Push the grapes out, please."

  She pushed for an instant before her body rebelled—she couldn't do that here! It would feel like taking a crap in the bed.

  "I can't, Sir.” It wasn't that she was refusing; she literally couldn't do that here.

  His voice was patient, but unyielding. “Yes, you can. We cleaned your insides; the grapes won't be soiled. You're on a towel and shower curtain, so even if they have germs, they won't contaminate the bed. Push, Dana."

  It wasn't a suggestion, but a clear order. She tried again, and her body rebelled once more. “I'm sorry, Sir. I can't."

  His hand flew to her pussy, but the chain inside her blocked her view, so she couldn't see what his was doing. Her clit erupted in pain as he flicked it. Hard. Her hands rushed to cover herself as she screamed in agony.

  He waited for her to calm down, didn't say anything about her hands, just repeated. “Push them out. We'll be here until I see at least four of them sliding out of your ass. I may change my mind and want more if you keep delaying. I know you feel the need to go. I can see you clinching, trying to hold them in. The insides of your thighs aren't bruised; even an extreme masochist will have problems handling a tawse to the inner thighs without a warm-up. At least four grapes, Dana. Now."

  She took a deep breath, closed her eyes, and pushed, willing her muscles to allow it as a grape exited her body. She squeezed her eyelids tighter as she inhaled again and strained, managing to get the second one out—the third surprising her as it surged out unexpectedly. She felt as if she were having a bowel movement in bed, but he'd been so upset with her for refusing, so she bore down and forced them out, trying her best to ignore how wrong it felt. It took more coaxing for her to get the fourth out, but when it finally came, Zach looked pleased.

  "Look, perfectly clean.” He held the grapes up for her to see. “As I said they'd be. If the others escape your iron hold while we're finishing it'll be fine. If they don't, that's okay, too. Now, for your reward—you can come as many times as you want during this part. No permission needed."

  He stroked her labia before pushing a finger and thumb into her, and pulling a few links of the chain out. His gaze met hers and he smiled, looking like a kid who put a frog in his sister's bed.

  His arm hauled back, the chain still in his hand, and when it was straight behind him, he continued dragging with his other hand, so all four feet cascaded out in one fell swoop, flooding her body with adrenaline as the sensations overwhelmed and shocked.

  The orgasm slammed through her seconds after the adrenaline, and when Zach placed the weight and heat of the entire chain on her stomach, she thought she'd shatter into a million pieces.

  Hands shoved her legs up as he braced himself before he plunged, and she completely lost the ability to breathe.

  Zach slid entirely out before languidly sinking back into her. Smooth, slow, and with intention. His gaze locked on hers, letting her know he owned her, all the way down to her soul.

  When she could finally breathe again, she only mustered one word. “Yours."

  He smiled. “Yes. Mine.” His pace went from dreamy pleasure to urgent demand, his mouth hot as it closed over her nipple, sucking and biting until she arched up, offering herself, making the warm chain pressed between them shift. Desire shot through her as every nerve in her body came alive, rocking her from the inside out, and felt as if her soul were unraveling—making her nothing, and everything. Making her his.

  Zach's rhythm stuttered and he thrust a final time and held, his face buried in her neck, quiet grunts and growls coming from him as his body shuddered and rocked. Dana's orgasm continued at least thirty seconds after Zach's finished, and he stayed put until she was still and breathing almost normally again.

  She had another mini-release as he was pulling out, just a few spams, and he paused until it was
over, chuckling as she relaxed into the bed once more. “I love that about you. I'll have to remember to give you periods of time where you can come when you want, so you don't lose that particular quirk. I'm looking forward to teaching you control, though."

  He leaned down and gave her a quick kiss on the lips. “I need to dispose of this and take everything to the kitchen. I'll bring more sports drink, and some yogurt. Are you hungrier than that?"

  She shook her head, “No, yogurt sounds perfect. Do you have blueberry?"

  "I do. You have permission to use the restroom to get rid of the rest of the grapes if you like. We'll cuddle a bit before I chain you to the bed again, but I suggest you take care of your needs now, while you have a chance."

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  Chapter Three

  * * * *

  Something was annoying her. A stick was poking into her and she tried to move it, but her hands were inside the sleeping bag and she couldn't reach to push it away. The harder she struggled to free them from the fabric, the worse the branch poked into her. When it finally pushed inside of her she awoke with a start, realized it wasn't a stick, but Zach's cock coming into her from behind as she lay on her side. Her arms weren't trapped in the sleeping bag; they were attached to the front of her bondage collar by six-inch lengths of rope.

  Zach began moving inside of her, taking his time as his iron control maintained a slow, deliberate rhythm, obviously in no hurry this morning. Dana hadn't been horny when she'd first awakened, but the situation quickly turned her on and she found herself pushing her ass back, lifting her top leg to give him more room, wishing he'd speed up, go faster.

  His voice vibrated against her shoulder. “Mmmm. That's it. You don't have permission to come. Don't bother asking."

  Thankfully, as the words were out of his mouth he switched into high gear, fucking her like a wildman for the next three or four minutes until he erupted into the condom in a flurry of vocalizations, his entire body trembling as he released. Dana barely held the orgasm back—another twenty seconds and she'd have been coming with him. She had mixed feelings about suppressing her own climax as she lay there frustrated and unfulfilled, her blood roaring through her veins.