Top Bottom Switch

by Chelle Bliss

  of your submissiveness, I’m going to go easy on you.”

  My eyes widen, and I’m caught off guard. “You are?”

  He nods. “I won’t for long, so don’t get too used to it.”

  I lick my lips, his words sending a tingle down my spine. “What does easy mean?”

  “If things work out and you agree, I’m going to make you mine. Then I expect complete submission.”

  My hand goes to my neck, and I can feel my heart racing under my arm. Hearing him say that makes my body ache for his touch. Which is odd, because no one has ever had this effect on me before.

  I try to swallow the sudden dryness in my mouth. “I like the sound of that.” I take a sip of my newly delivered champagne, relishing the coolness as it slides down my throat, and the sweetness skids across my tongue.

  He rubs his chin with one hand and stares at me. “We’ll see how this week goes, plus our time together next weekend, and then we’ll check if you feel the same.”

  “This week?” I ask, choking on my drink.

  His hand drops to his drink, moving it around the table and swirling it within the glass. “I’ll be texting you all week. I expect you to wear the plug during the day while you’re at work, but you can take it out once you get home. When the plug comes out, the bullet goes in.”

  I cough and grip my throat, trying to clear the last bit of champagne that’s causing me to choke. “All day?” My voice is strangled as I reply.

  “All. Day,” he says, punctuating each word for effect. “Understood?”

  My shoulders hunch, and I drop my voice to almost a whisper. “But I’m a teacher.”

  He raises an eyebrow, challenging me. “And your point is?”

  Normally, I’d argue the point, hence my switch tendencies. But for some strange reason, I don’t with him. What am I talking about? I know why I don’t try to get out of it—because I want him.

  The time I spent together with him, looking into his eyes and watching him touch himself, was the single most erotic period in my life. No other man has come even remotely close to his ability to turn me on.

  “Fine,” I mumble and turn the glass between my palms.

  He laughs lightly, his face softening, and my belly flips in response. “Be good this week, and I’ll make sure you enjoy next weekend.”

  My heart starts to race at the thought of him touching me. I stare at him, fantasizing about the moment he slides his thick, long shaft inside of me. I must’ve been lost in thought because my body jolts when he turns the bullet on full blast.

  “Oh!” I moan and gasp when my palms flatten against the table.

  “Pay attention to me when I speak,” he says and turns it off.

  Instantly, I miss the sensation and wonder how far to push my luck to get another shot. “Sorry.”

  “Better,” he says and lifts the glass to his mouth. Again, I watch as his lips touch the glass, wishing I could feel his mouth on me.

  “When you’re alone this week, you’re not allowed to come unless you ask for permission first.”

  I purse my lips and try not to let my frustration show. When I don’t answer right away, the bullet starts again. I’m happy for a moment, shifting my body and causing the plug to dig deeper in my ass.

  “Alese?” he says.

  “Yes! Yes!” I scream as my clit rubs against my thigh, and I’m close to coming before the vibrations die.

  “You’re already breaking the rules.”

  I glance down and peek through my eyelashes at him. His partially amused smile makes me blush. “I’m sorry.” I clear my throat, and even I know it’s bullshit as it comes out of my mouth.

  “Repeat the last thing I told you.” His eyes darken, and I wonder if I should push my luck but decide against it.

  “I’m not allowed to come without permission.” My voice isn’t smooth, and I linger a little too long on the last word.

  His hand clamps down on my leg, holding me in place as the bullet starts up—more intense than the last time. I want to squirm, but his hand stops me. Bastard.

  “Good, piccola,” he whispers to me, keeping his hand on my knee when the vibrations stop.

  My back slumps into the corner of the booth, and I’m just as turned on as I was upstairs. This is going to be a long fucking week.

  When we finish our drinks and he exhausts me with conversation, I wonder if I’ll run home and instantly dig into my toy chest for my favorite vibrator.

  “Don’t even think about it,” he says as if he read my mind while we stand at the door.

  My eyebrows draw together as I peer up at his large frame. “What?” I play the innocent card and shrug my shoulders.

  He leans forward, bringing his mouth so close to my ear that his lips are almost touching me. “Do not come. Don’t test me, Alese, or you’ll be sorry.”

  A shiver runs down my spine and my body clenches, the bullet and the plug making everything worse. His voice is so deep and sexy that I could almost get off from his words alone.

  “Yes.”

  He places his hand on the small of my back and walks me to my car. I’m so turned on by his simple touch and his smell, besides everything else, that I wonder if I’ll ever be able to fall asleep.

  He opens the door, and I slide in. “Text me when you’re home safely.”

  I nod and grip the keys tightly in my hand. “I will.”

  “Until next time, Alese,” he says, closing the door and taking the air from my lungs with him.

  I relax into the seat and allow myself to take a few deep, cleansing breaths. “Man, he’s intense yet not,” I say so only I can hear.

  I start to giggle with excitement because, after months of secretly watching Ret, I’ve had my first taste and I want more.

  Before I can move to start the car, I yelp. I grip the steering wheel, my fingers strangling the leather, before the vibrations stop.

  Ret: Go home.

  I laugh again and start to look around, finding that he has only backed up a few feet and is watching me with his arms crossed and his phone in one hand.

  I wave and bite my lip, laughing softly as I start the car and pull away. My eyes are moving between the road and his reflection in my rearview mirror as I come to a stop at the exit.

  I’ve never wanted to give myself to any man more than I want to throw myself at Ret’s feet and beg him to become my Master.

  I never thought that would happen. But there’s something about him that makes me want to give up control. There’s something in the way he talks to me that makes me feel wanted. I crave his attention, wondering when the next time will come that he’ll text me or give me a command.

  I’d never tell him, but the very idea excites me to no end.

  Seven

  Ret

  I have to admit something to myself. Something I have been pushing out of my mind for the last week—I want Alese.

  Not just to play with her, but I want to make her mine.

  I’d just about given up on that possibility. No one seemed to excite me anymore, and no matter how hard I tried in a scene, the sizzle just wasn’t there.

  Alese was, in a simple word, fun.

  I think she keeps me on my toes as much as I do her. She has just enough fight in her to make it almost a game, but a very sexy one.

  She listened, for the most part, this week. Leaving the plug in and the bullet as requested. Once I caught her without it, asking for photographic evidence. She wasn’t able to send a photo, and I told her she’d be punished for it.

  Every night, we’d talk on the phone and discuss our days, and we covered every topic under the sun. I don’t know if I’ve ever gotten to know a woman outside the bedroom as much as I have Alese.

  Maybe that’s the part I had been missing. Everything was always based around sex, with no other real-life experiences weighing in on the relationship.

  The first three nights I let her come, but only on Skype with a perfect view of her pussy. I’d pleasure myself out of

her view and watch as she used her finger to get off. The only vibrations she was allowed to feel were those of the bullet, which I controlled and used the entire time she played with herself.

  With three days left until we’d see each other, I refused her request to orgasm. I wanted her primed and ready by the time I saw her again.

  This was part of my begging master plan.

  By the time the weekend rolls around, I am hornier than I think I’ve ever been. I don’t remember walking around, even as a teenager, with a hard-on as much as I do when talking to her.

  “Are you ready for tonight?” I ask her when I call about an hour before we are supposed to meet.

  “Yes.” Her voice is strong and sure.

  “Meet me in the same room at seven. When you enter, remove your clothes and kneel in the middle of the floor with your head down. Leave the bullet and the plug in and fold your hands in your lap. I expect full cooperation, Alese.”

  “Yes,” she replies, her voice wavering this time.

  “Again, I won’t touch you until you give me permission, but once you open that door, there’s no turning back unless you say red or yellow. Understood?”

  I can hear her swallow on the other end of the phone. “I do.”

  “I won’t go beyond your limits, but I will test your boundaries.”

  “I expect nothing less, Master.”

  It’s the first time she’s called me Master, and my heart leaps in my chest. I smile, thankful I’m alone, and the heaviness in my balls grows. Fuck. I’m a perpetual hard-on with this woman.

  “I’ll see you in an hour, piccola. Be ready for the night of your life. I’m going to show you what it really means to be mine.”

  I surprise myself with the statement. It’s been forever since I’ve used the word mine. No one has been worthy of the title. Alese did that. She made me want things, bigger than just a play partner. I want what Misha and Stella have, and for the first time, I believe it to be possible.

  I walk into The Club just a few minutes after seven, not wanting to arrive before Alese. Mak catches me before I head upstairs.

  “I saw Alese,” he says with the biggest grin.

  “And?” I ask, glancing toward the stairwell.

  He raises his eyebrows and smirks. “I don’t think I’ve ever seen her happier. I don’t know what you did to that girl, but she almost floated through here.”

  I laugh. “Orgasm denial.”

  He nods and slaps my arm. “Works like a charm. Dare I say that you actually look…” He rubs his chin and studies me for a moment. “Happy?” It sounds more like a question than a statement.

  “Unfuckingbelievable, but I am,” I admit and rub my hands together. “I’ve been looking forward to this all week.”

  “I knew you two would hit it off.” I tilt my head and purse my lips with the word bullshit hanging on the tip of my tongue, when he speaks again, “She just needed a real Dom to show her what she truly is.”

  “You shouldn’t have let her struggle,” I tell him and cross my arms in front of me.

  “Sometimes you can’t tell a person something. They need to find out the truth on their own.”

  “Uh-huh. Bullshit,” I cough into my shoulder. “I better go. She’s probably waiting for me.”

  “No doubt. Have fun,” he tells me as I start to walk away.

  I wave to him over my shoulder and don’t bother to look back. I can feel his smile, and I heard it in his last statement. I climb the stairs, taking them two at a time out of excitement.

  When I reach the door to Private Room Two, I stand there and take a few deep breaths, fisting my hands at my sides. I roll my neck to relax, but even though I jacked off earlier, I’m just as hard as I was the moment my eyes opened this morning.

  I turn the handle and see Alese, kneeling on the floor in a flawless position. Without being told, she faces the opposite direction with her legs spread, giving me the ideal view of her ass and the plug still nestled inside.

  I groan softly and step inside, pushing the door closed with my ass and dropping my bag to the floor. I stare at her for a moment and don’t move, hearing nothing but the sound of my heart hammering in my chest. I wipe my hands against my jeans and take a step forward.

  “Perfect position, piccola,” I tell her, starting off with praise as I walk behind her. Her blond hair is cascading down her back, and it’s the only thing visible on her body besides the plug.

  She doesn’t move and keeps her face cast downward. I kneel in front of her and see that her nipples are already hard, and her skin is pebbled with goose bumps. “Spread your legs wider,” I say, but I keep my hands to myself.

  She complies, spreading her legs wider, giving me a breathtaking view of her needy, wet pussy. Even with her face down, I can see the smile on her lips.

  “Are you ready for tonight?” I already know the answer. We discussed it every night this week. She promised to give herself to me, to let me do what I felt was necessary, and if all works out, maybe I’d make her mine.

  “I am,” she whispers.

  Her knees are red as they rest against the cold, cement floor, and she moves a bit, trying to stay in the position and relieve some of the pressure on her joints. I pop up and grab a crop from the wall.

  Standing in front of her, I place my feet shoulder width apart and stare down at her, waiting for her to fidget again.

  “Did you come today?” I ask, even though I know the answer. I just want to see if she’ll squirm again knowing I have the crop in my hand.

  “No,” she answers quickly and doesn’t move.

  I tap the crop against my leg in plain sight for her to see. “Do you want to come?”

  She grimaces and I know she’s uncomfortable. No one has probably made her sit in this position, at least, not for very long. “I do,” she says.

  I slap the inside of her thigh, causing her to jump. “What did you say?”

  “I do, sir,” she says quickly, sucking in a breath right after.

  “Stand.” I tap the crop against my leg a little harder, enough to make a noise as the leather makes contact. She stands without grace and keeps her eyes downcast as I watch. “Bend over and touch your toes.”

  For some women, this could be humiliating, but for Alese, it’s exhilarating. I’ve watched her enough to be aware that it turns her on, knowing I’m looking at her. “Move your legs wider.”

  She moves them two feet apart then bends at the waist to grip her ankles. Her ass rises in the air, the plug moving with her and the bullet cord lying against her pussy, sparkling from her need in the overhead light.

  She is teetering, trying to stay in position when I decide she could use a tiny obstacle. Reaching into my pocket, I pull out my phone and start the bullet.

  Her body rocks forward, but surprisingly, she doesn’t let go or fall over. A small part of me is sad, wanting to see her skin reddened by the crop. I run the leather across her bottom, following the curve of her ass.

  She watches me from between her legs, and I tilt my head, letting her know I’ve caught her before cracking her across the ass. “Eyes down,” I tell her as she grits her teeth not to cry out.

  Moving the crop to the top center of her back, I trail it down her spine to her ass. “Get up on the table and position yourself on all fours.”

  I can tell she’s relieved not to be in that position any longer because I know it’s hell on the back. I’ve tried it myself and am not a fan. The women who can hold it for long periods deserve serious credit.

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