No Safeword: Matte - the Honeymoon by Candace Blevins Read Free Book Online Page B

calves burned, and her arms and shoulders ached. But
the rope running alongside her clit screamed loudest of all.
    “Knees higher,” he said calmly as the strands of the
whip curled around her left thigh. He ignored her scream and let it fly again,
kissing the back of her right calf hard enough she was sure it would leave a
bruise.
    Just as she wished he’d give her a rest while he
added the next piece of torture, if only so she could catch her breath, he
stepped in front of her with nipple clamps. She waited for the order to stop
before altering her pace, and when the command finally came, she practically
hung by her wrists as she gasped for air.
    He offered more sports drink, and then it only took a
few seconds for him to attach the cruel clamps. When he ordered her to begin
again, she felt tears forming at the added pain. The clamps bit into her more
with each bounce, and he said, “Graceful, Samantha. If you do it right you can
keep your torso practically still. I’ll be adding weights to your nipples soon,
so I suggest you figure it out quickly.”
    He was quiet a while, and mercifully didn’t use the
whip as Sam found a rhythm and managed to keep the heavy metal clamps from
bouncing. She timed her breaths with her steps, and discovered the act of
pointing her toes as her feet pushed off the floor helped keep the continuous
flow going.
    She’d almost forgotten about Ethan when he stepped
into her vision and said, “Excellent. I’m pleased. Don’t stop; I can add the
weights as you run.”
    She lost her rhythm for a half dozen steps as she
adjusted to the pain of the weights, and as all of the other hurts reminded her
of their presence, but as she fell back into the never-ending, fluid motion
he’d coached her into, much of the pain became background noise once again
— albeit a very loud cacophony.
    The first strike of the flogger to her shoulders made
her stumble.
    “You’re doing great, Samantha. Keep going. It may
take us a few minutes to find a mutual rhythm, but I’m going to flog the hell
out of you while you run. My end game isn’t to draw blood, but if it happens I
don’t intend to stop.” He struck again and she felt every knot of every strand,
and screamed all of the oxygen from her lungs as she lifted one foot, and then
the other.
    He flogged her a few dozen times and stopped. She
couldn’t tell what he was doing from behind, but she kept running until he
said, “Okay, rest a few seconds.”
    She looked up as he connected something to her right
wrist, and her heart sank as she realized it was a spreader bar. When he’d
connected both wrists, her arms were far enough apart she was back on her
tiptoes, unable to touch her heels to the ground.
    “Beautiful, Sam. You’re beautiful. I’ll begin
flogging your back and I want you to run to my tempo now. I’ll give you
ten strikes to get going and figure out how to match me, if you aren’t there by
then I’ll add more weight to your nipples.”
    Sam let the first four strikes land without moving,
and lifted her left leg as the fifth blow landed on her right shoulder, and
pushed hard to bring her right leg up as the flogger hit her left shoulder. She
wasn’t in perfect rhythm by the tenth strike, but was apparently close enough,
as he continued without stopping.
    As Ethan sped up with the whip, she had to lift her
legs faster. When she didn’t lift them high enough, he hit harder. It felt as
if the knots were ripping her open, though she knew they weren’t. She barely
had enough breath to run, let alone scream as she pumped her legs gracefully
and worked to keep her torso in place, and the lashes continued to fall.
    Gravity seemed to shift, and suddenly, Sam was
floating in a sea of blissful peace. Her legs moved under her but her torso
stayed practically motionless. Her arms seemed weightless above her, and the
rhythm of the flogger kept her tethered to reality. Her muscles burned, her
heart raced, her lungs made use of the oxygen they