From Top to Bottom

by Harper Bliss

  “Do you want another?” Steph asked as she stood up with her empty champagne flute to get a refill. Part of me wondered if I shouldn’t have another. Would I need all my wits about me to pull off this reverse power-play fantasy?

  I decided I would need liquid courage more. “Yes, please,” I answered and smiled at her. She kissed me on top of the head and headed toward the bar, chatting with another friend. I swallowed the last sip and let the warmth radiate through my veins. Steph had just begun walking back toward our table when the DJ cranked the music up. People poured onto the dance floor. Steph caught my gaze and held out my beverage, beckoning me to come to her.

  Steph spun me around and around the dance floor, leading the whole time of course. I tried not to slosh sauvignon blanc onto our feet. She kept turning me so I was backing up into her—I knew her game. She wanted me to feel that she was packing. I grinned, thinking of my own little secret.

  After a third glass of wine, a bouquet toss, and at least four terrible line dances, I decided I should make my move while I had the courage. During a particularly close dance I slinked my hand down and grabbed at her waistband. She smirked. I slid my hand into her front pocket and nudged her cock. “I’m ready to go home,” I whispered in her ear. She grabbed me by the wrist without saying a word and dragged me toward the exit. I teetered behind her, anticipation building in my stomach.

  The car ride home was tense. My mind raced, as I doubted myself. Our relationship had conditioned me to receive gratefully, but not to give. Steph enjoyed being in control, and I enjoyed being tied down, gagged, and told what to do. We made a perfect team. But for months now, I’d been fantasizing about what her face would look like if I took her. I knew the sounds of her having her way with me. What sounds would she make if I licked, sucked, and thrusted how I wanted? The thought made heat throb between my legs. I reached across the console as we pulled into our driveway and grasped Steph’s member.

  She smacked my hand away hard. “You’re getting too bold,” she stated. “I’ll have to beat that out of you.” She stepped out of the car, heading up our sidewalk and into our house. I followed, trying to hide the smile creeping across my face.

  Steph dropped the keys in a basket on our entry table and headed straight up the stairs. She looked down from the top and harshly shouted down at me to hurry up.

  I tossed my bag onto the floor and grasped the handrail firmly. You can do this, I thought as I ascended the stairs.

  Steph stood by the dresser in our room, hands in her pockets. I felt a jolt of pleasure that shook my nervousness out and replaced it with want. I entered our room and pushed the door hard enough for it to close, letting my eyes cut to Steph, who was standing in front of me undoing her bowtie.

  “What is it?” she asked, looking startled.

  Not breaking my gaze, I crossed the room and pressed my lips to hers, hard and sudden. She pulled back and started to say something, but I wrapped my hands around her cheeks and brought her into me again. I felt her melt into my lips and her tongue met mine, shooting sparks to all my nerve endings.

  She pulled away again and took a step back, resuming her cool and calm demeanor. Her arms wiggled their way out from under the suspenders and they fell to her sides. “Baby, if you want me to fuck you,” she said firmly as she kicked her shoes off, “you know you have to ask for it.” It was clear she wasn’t going to give up her power easily.

  Wine and long-hidden fantasy made courage swell up in me. “That’s not what’s happening tonight,” I said in my most authoritative voice as I closed the distance she’d put between us. “I’m going to fuck you.”

  Steph’s eyes widened and she tipped her head to the side. “I should take you over my knee for what a cocktease you’ve been all night long, and now you think you’re going to call the shots? No ma’am. Take that dress off.” She had undone her pants and her bulge was apparent under her boxer briefs.

  “No,” I said decisively, crossing my arms over my chest.

  Steph’s eyes glimmered; she obviously thought I was still playing the part of a tease. She shook her pants down and kicked them to the side before grabbing me around the waist and pulling me into her. “Then I’ll do it, and you’ll pay for your disobedience.” She ran her hands over my ass, squeezing hard before crossing my thighs and running a hand up them between my legs.

  Steph stopped abruptly when her hand reached my cock. “What is that?” she asked, leaning back to glare at me.

  I grinned. “I told you,” I said. “I’m fucking you tonight.”

  Before she could respond I had grabbed her by the shoulders and pushed her down onto our bed. She still looked stunned, so I used the opportunity to my advantage. We had a restraint system permanently attached to our bedframe, and I quickly reached for the velvet-lined cuffs, securing first one hand, then the other above her head. As I unbuttoned her shirt, I noticed the pink flush on her chest—a giveaway that she was secretly loving every second of this.

  “Cas, I don’t know what the hell you think you’re doing, but—”

  “Shut your mouth,” I interrupted, cupping my hand over her lips. I spread her shirt open, revealing the tank top that she wore instead of a bra. Her nipples protruded from the tight fabric. “If you really don’t want this, then tell me to stop,” I said as I ran my thumb over one of the tight buds and climbed up to straddle her. I took my hand away from her mouth, and she responded with a smirk. “That’s what I thought,” I said.

  I grabbed the hem of her snug undershirt and slid it up, revealing her perfectly scored abs. I vowed to never complain about her early workouts again. Her chest was small, but flawlessly shaped, with her pink nipples rising from her pale skin. I leaned down and peppered kisses in a trail under her left breast, then over to her right. I felt her ribs rise with a gasp as I landed one directly on the apex. Sitting back, I traced my fingers lightly across the top of her underwear that fit snugly on her hipbones. Latching my thumbs underneath the waistband, I slowly rolled it down until the top of the silicone cock was visible.

  “You won’t need this,” I teased, as I pulled it out and flung it to the floor. The expression on her face was one of shock, and possibly a little embarrassment. I’d successfully emasculated her. I couldn’t stop the smirk that spread across my face. Her face flamed with anger or desire, I couldn’t tell.

  “You’re going to pay for this when you let me go, I hope you know that. You won’t sit for a week.”

  “You talk too much.” I snapped and smacked my hand on her thigh. Her face went red and her jaw tightened. God, that power felt good. Was this how she felt every time she punished me? No wonder she liked it. I hopped off and stood next to the bed as I stripped her of her boxer briefs and tossed them aside, revealing her immaculately shaved pussy. Her legs were as muscular as her stomach. Years of playing soccer had left their mark.

  I grabbed her left ankle and a restraint cuff, locking her leg into place. “By the time I’m done with you,” I said in my surest, most dominant voice as I jerked her other leg hard, securing it to the bed, “you’ll be the one who’s asking for it.”

  I slid open the bottom drawer of Steph’s side table. The ‘fun drawer’ as she called it. I shuffled through the contents and found a black, silky blindfold.

  “Cas, I swear to God—” she protested.

  I wrestled the eye mask over her head and adjusted it so I knew she could see nothing. I popped the side of her ass with my hand and she flinched away. “You’ll call me Ma’am,” I asserted.

  She giggled, which infuriated me. I slid a long box from under the bed and took out Steph’s favorite flogger. The strips of leather were so soft to the touch, but stung so fucking nicely when she slapped it across my bare skin.

  “Give it up, Cassie,” she chided. I slung the flog at her thighs where the strips landed with a pop, gently enough that I knew it didn’t hurt her, but hard enough that her skin began to pink up.

  “I said you’ll call me Ma’am.”

 
“Cassie, if you don’t fucking turn me loose, I—”

  I interrupted her with a slightly harder flog across her stomach and hips. I saw one tail tap her pussy and she gasped.

  “Goddamn it, Cas,” she said through gritted teeth.

  I sighed. I slapped the flogger hard across her thighs and left it there while I unzipped my dress and let it fall to the floor. “Why do you have to be so difficult.” I undid her ankles from the bed and in one swift motion flipped her onto her stomach, her hands still restrained above her head. I internally praised myself for my strength and relished in the power I felt seeing her pale, bare ass laid out for me on the bed. I reached back into the box under the bed and grabbed the spreader bar. I buckled the leather manacles to her ankles and tethered the middle of the bar to the cuffs holding her hands, putting her on her knees and elbows. I admired her ass and the view of her deliciously wet slit from behind as I climbed up to stand on the bed. She could pretend she didn’t like what was happening all she wanted—her body told another story.

  “Like I said,” I began as I caressed her cheeks with my hand. “From this point forward, you’ll call me Ma’am.” I smacked the flogger hard across her ass, causing her to flinch. “And you’ll do well to remember”—smack—“that when I give you a directive”—smack—“you’ll do as I say the first time.” Smack.

  At the last blow Steph let out a whimper that sent heat through me. I adjusted my strap-on, pushing it against my clit and savoring the pressure.

  “Do you understand?” I asked, pausing to let her answer.

  She responded with silence.

  “Stubborn girl,” I moaned.

  I laid into her, valuing this newfound authority. The first several licks she bit her lip and kept quiet, but eventually she was yelping at every lash. Her ass and lips were swollen and red, and her arousal was beginning to coat her inner thighs.

  “Is that enough?” I asked, panting and drunk with power.

  “Yes,” she whimpered. I gave her another hard stroke.

  “Yes what?” I shouted.

  “Yes, Ma’am!” she cried.

  I smiled and stroked the silicone cock that, were it real, I knew would be bursting out of my panties. I stripped myself of the body-hugging spandex and let my member free. I lowered myself behind her and stroked the tip of it up and down her slick folds.

  She let out a moan.

  “You want me to fuck you, don’t you?” I asked, taunting.

  She pressed her ass up toward me and I backed away. “Yes, Ma’am,” she groaned.

  “Then what do you need to say?” I slapped the cock against her pussy and she yelped.

  “Please,” she panted, twisting her fingers into the sheets. With the very tip of the cock I pressed at her opening.

  “Please, what?” She knew this game. She’d played it with me a million times before. God, it felt good to be on the other end.

  “Please fuck me, Ma’am,” she almost screamed.

  I slammed into her and she cried out. Her ass was still warm from the spanking as I cupped it in my hands and thrust hard. Each time I plunged in, she moaned a little louder until her screams and my groans were a cacophony of ecstasy.

  She bit down on the mattress to muffle her screams and I stopped suddenly, mid-thrust. Her ass crept back toward me, seeking the relief of orgasm.

  I reached down and grabbed a handful of her short hair, pulling her head back. “Are you ready to come for me?” I barked.

  “Yes… yes, Ma’am. Please, Ma’am.”

  That was exactly what I’d wanted. My tomboy, soft-butch, dominating, top of a girlfriend was malleable in my hands, ready to crumble at my next touch.

  “I’m going to let you come. But I want to hear it,” I growled. I entered her again and again, faster and harder than before, pulling back on her hair and letting my left hand reach around to find her clit.

  She came hard, a stream of wetness coating my hand and the dildo. I released her hair and collapsed in a sweaty mess on top of her, gently trailing my fingers along her still-raised ass.

  After what seemed like forever I rolled off of Steph, and unbuckled, unshackled, and unblindfolded her. We lay on our backs, staring at the spinning ceiling fan and trying to catch our breath. I suddenly felt very exposed with my pleasure-coated cock still rising up from my pelvis. I released the latches on the harness and began to remove it when Steph put her hand on mine, stopping me. I turned to look at her and she gently shook her head.

  “Tomorrow, we’ll go back to normal,” she whispered. “Tonight’s not over yet, Ma’am.”

  The Antisocial Sister

  Lucy Felthouse

  Patricia unlocked the front door of her sister Maria’s house and crept inside. She had no idea why she was creeping, though, considering no one was in. Which, of course, had been the whole point of her turning up the Saturday night before Christmas to deliver presents. Maria and her husband, Joe, would be at his work’s Christmas do and their kids were at Joe’s parents’ house, leaving Patricia free and clear to do her Santa bit.

  Only, as soon as she put the gift bags in her hands down and scurried along the hallway to turn the home security alarm off, she knew something was wrong. The alarm wasn’t on. And not in a million years would either Maria or Joe leave the house empty without setting it. They were paranoid to the max, a situation exacerbated by all the warnings on TV and in the papers about scumbags breaking into homes at this time of year specifically to steal Christmas presents.

  Therefore, Patricia came to the conclusion that either there was a burglary taking place at that very moment, and they’d managed to turn the alarm off, or there was, in fact, someone in. Neither situation was good, in her opinion, but as she tiptoed towards the living room, she wished heartily for the latter. Even a bollocking from her sister for sneaking into the house would be preferable to said sister being robbed.

  Ready for either situation, she slipped her hand into her pocket to retrieve her phone, pulled it out and pressed the number nine three times—then kept her thumb hovering over the green button, just in case.

  Carefully moving back and closing the front door—if there was a burglary taking place, she didn’t want to make it easy for the buggers to escape—Patricia then re-trod her steps, continuing towards the living room. A dim light shone from beneath the door—torchlight?

  With her phone in a death grip, Patricia opened the living room door as quietly as possible, not wanting to alert any intruders to her presence, at least not until she’d phoned the police.

  As the room beyond gradually came into view, Patricia mercifully neither heard nor saw any signs of anything untoward. Rather, she discovered that the source of light was coming from the television, as was a low-level murmuring. She frowned. Had Maria and Joe not gone to the Christmas party after all? But their car hadn’t been parked out front…

  “Hello?” she said, her tone tentative.

  There was movement from the direction of the sofa, then a tousled dark head appeared over the back. “What the—oh… so you’re the antisocial sister.”

  “Excuse me?” Patricia all but squeaked. “I’m the… what? And who the hell are you, and what are you doing here?”

  “Hey,” the dark-haired woman said quietly, “keep your voice down. The kids are asleep.”

  “The kids?” She turned and gently pushed the door shut behind her, then crossed the room and stood beside the sofa. Now she could see the woman in full—not that there was much of her. She was slim, petite—a boyish figure. Her cropped hair and clothes did nothing to dispel that idea, either. Patricia suspected this woman, whoever she was, frequently got mistaken for a member of the opposite sex. Not that it mattered—she was cute either way. She took a deep breath. “Could you please explain what’s going on?”

  Shifting from her reclined position into a sitting one, the woman patted the now-empty space beside her. “Of course. Sit down.”

  For reasons she couldn’t quite fathom, Patricia did as she wa
s told.

  “I’m Renee,” the tousle-haired cutie said. “I’m babysitting for the evening. I live a couple of doors down the road. As you probably know, the kids were meant to be with Joe’s parents this evening, but Joe’s dad came down with some kind of bug, I think. So I stepped in at the last minute.”

  “Oh.”

  “You sound disappointed.”

  “N—no. It’s just that… when I saw the house alarm wasn’t switched on…”

  Renee quirked one shapely eyebrow. “You thought I was robbing the place, didn’t you?”

  Patricia’s cheeks heated. “Maybe. Anyway, never mind that! What did you mean about me being the antisocial sister?”

  A smirk playing on her lips, Renee replied, “Changing the subject much? But okay, I’ll explain. Though I think it’s pretty self-explanatory. Basically, when you’re discussed in conversation, that’s how you’re described. Maria’s the funny one, you’re the antisocial one that never comes to parties, or turns up late, acts like a wallflower then leaves early. You get the idea. It’s backed up by the fact I’ve known Maria and Joe for three years, since I moved here, and this is the first time we’ve met.”

  Patricia opened her mouth, then closed it again, realizing there was nothing she could really say to that. She couldn’t even pretend that her feelings were hurt, because the facts didn’t lie. She did avoid parties like the plague, and if somehow she ran out of excuses, or got guilt-tripped into attending, she would keep out of everyone’s way as much as possible. It wasn’t really being antisocial, though. It was more that she didn’t like crowds. Give her a one-on-one conversation with someone and it was all good. A chat with a couple of good friends or family members; fine. But throw any more people into the mix and she was out of her comfort zone. She simply wasn’t the sort of person who could hold court, talk loud and proud for anyone who cared to listen. Therefore melting into the background was her only option. And if she was going to do that, well then what was the point in attending?