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Safeword_ Davenport(8)

By´╝ÜCandace Blevins



Zach breathed out, as if he'd been holding it while she talked. “So, when I said I might like to micromanage a few days here and there, I was describing the relationship the two of you had?"

Dana shook her head. “Not exactly. There was no power dynamic during our everyday lives. He didn't demand sex or a blowjob just anytime, and we scheduled scenes beforehand to clear both of our calendars for a set number of days. We had quickie ones too—where he'd ask at six o'clock if I wanted to go into a scene that'd end at five the next morning—but if I said no, it didn't happen. Or, if I'd brought work home, I might tell him I could be ready to play at nine."

Through talking about herself, she asked, “What about you? I know a little since I've seen some of your toys; I saw a TENS unit but no straight electricity, which surprised me considering what you do for a living. There were floggers, crops, canes, paddles, clamps, clothespins, and probably a mile of various kinds of rope. What have you done? What's your most extreme?"

"Never anything that brought blood on purpose. No needles, hooks, or knives; and I know you've done all three. Most of my pain involves impact play, clamps on sensitive areas, fisting, and uncomfortable positions. My most exotic is probably electricity—I keep the equipment in my shop."

He took a sip of wine as he seemed to consider his next words. “I'm more about control than pain. Bethany wasn't allowed on furniture without an invitation. Even amongst vanilla people, I'd ask her to have a seat, or pat the spot beside me, or pull her down with me as I sat. When she asked for permission at home I usually gave consent—the rule wasn't there to keep her on the floor, but because she needed constant reminders of her status throughout the day in order to feel secure."

Dana's heart broke for him when he closed his eyes, grief shadowing his face as he remembered. She couldn't reach his hand so she caressed his leg with her foot. His gaze met hers, his smile a sad one, but he pulled himself together and continued.

"She sat at a party without permission once and her punishment lasted forty-eight hours. She spent the night hanging vertically in her sleepsack, and the next morning I strapped her onto one of those ugly metal and plastic toilet seats they put beside your bed when you can't walk. I tied her legs and arms to the chair, and used a shibari harness to hold her torso in place."

His eyes were inquisitive and Dana hoped her face looked interested and not judgmental. He nodded and said, “I cleaned her out with an enema first so there was only urine in the bucket, and I emptied it right away. This wasn't about being gross but rather a way to make her sit for twelve hours. She was also in a posture collar which kept her from looking around and assisted with short naps."

He paused to take a bite and she said, “I suppose it proves how demented I am that I recognize the posture collar was a kindness and not a torment."

"Not many understand the finer points—I appreciate that you do. However, this was only the first stage of the lesson; I gave her another enema that night, and she slept vertical in her sleep sack again. The next morning I put her on the treadmill, keeping it on the slowest settings, but constant—with no stopping allowed. She'd walk fifty minutes, followed by a five-minute spanking at the top of the hour, and five minutes in the yard for a potty break, before going back on the treadmill for fifty minutes until time for her next paddling. I either put in or took out the plug at each break so she had an hour with, then without. It worked out to around nine hours of this until we reached the time of day the original infraction had taken place, and her punishment ended after a final ten minutes over my knee."

Dana's body wanted to squirm and she worked to sit still. She'd have used her hand to get off if she could've figured out how to do it discreetly—it wouldn't have taken more than a few seconds. “What did you spank her with?"

"I mixed it up—leather, maple, and Lexan paddles; bath brush; wooden spoon. The last was with a tawse but she was already so tender I didn't lay into her very hard, just enough so it was the worst of the ordeal, as I knew she'd need a final cry to feel cleansed of her misdeed. She'd had a total of fifty-five minutes of spanking in one day, spread out so the endorphins didn't have time to kick in, and were gone before the next started. For some, just the point of sitting for a day and then not sitting for a day would've been sufficient. She needed more though, so I gave it to her. It worked; she never sat on furniture without permission again."

Dana was moved by the care he'd taken to make the punishment fit the crime and by how much he'd loved his wife, to spend the time and energy correcting her. Some masters might blow this kind of thing off, making the submissive feel ignored, but Zach had made sure she knew their relationship mattered. He'd given her the gift of knowing this rule wasn't negotiable. Dana was curious about the details and her libido demanded she hear more. “When did she eat?"

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