Top Bottom Switch (The Club)

by Chelle Bliss

  Even though she can’t come yet, it doesn’t mean I’ll deprive myself any longer. I won’t touch her until she asks, but it won’t be tonight. There’s no way I could walk out of here without looking like I had a stick up my ass from the massive boner.

  As my fingers move, slowing and squeezing toward the tip, her eyes follow. I grit my teeth and grunt, wishing it were her cunt wrapped around me instead of my hand.

  “Do you want this inside you?”

  “Yes,” she says in a breathy voice.

  I shake my head, gripping my cock tighter and increasing the speed of my stroke. I’m pleased to know that she wants it, wants me, and feels comfortable enough to watch.

  Her beautiful pussy is glistening and wet, stuffed with the bullet. The quicker I stroke, the more her hips start to follow my movement.

  “Don’t come,” I tell her again, reminding her of my earlier command as I get closer to my own climax.

  When I can’t take it anymore—the scent of her surrounding me, my eyes locked on her—I give myself a few final strokes until my balls tighten and my body begins to shake.

  I can’t stop it. I don’t want to either. As the come starts to pour out of me, dripping down my fingers, I work it into my flesh.

  “Fuck!” I moan. My strokes start to falter, the sensation overwhelming me. I break eye contact for a moment and glance at her needy, tight pussy.

  She’s dripping, her pussy contracting, and her bottom is slightly rising off the table. She wants me.

  After my body stops shaking, I get up and grab a towel and start to wipe myself clean. If she were mine, I’d make her lick it off—every last drop of me would be inside her. I hold back a sigh, wishing things were different. But they aren’t.

  For the first time in a long time, I’m excited about playing with someone. My stupid ass had to set the parameters that I wouldn’t touch her. “Idiot,” I whisper to myself. She’s licking her lips, watching as I clean up the last drops of come that dot the tip of my still hard cock.

  “Someday, piccola. Someday, I’ll let you taste me.”

  Her lips part and her breathing picks up speed. She’s writhing now, her clit trying to find relief from the constant pressure.

  “Another pump,” I say, wanting to be a tad sadistic since I know how badly she wants to come.

  She groans softly, wrapping her fingers around the handle and giving it a short, quick squeeze.

  “Lay your knees against the table.” I want a better view. There’s something about the female body that’s always fascinated me—even as I grow older, my intrigue only grows.

  Slowly, she lowers her knees to the table, causing her pussy and tits to jut out.

  “Your poor nipples. They need some decoration.” She shakes her head and draws her lip into her mouth as I smile. “Grab the bull rings from the table and put them on.”

  They are the newbie nipple jewelry. They don’t really pack a bite, but they have just enough pressure to make the person wearing them feel pleasure.

  “Squeeze your nipples first to make them harder,” I say and feel my cock twitch inside my pants.

  For fuck’s sake.

  I shouldn’t be getting hard already, but my body reacts to hers.

  The tips of her fingers grip her nipples and give them a hard squeeze. Her bottom lifts in response, the new sensation making her needier. She moans, loving the feel of her nipples being touched.

  “Put them on.” I glance at the bull rings that look like hoop earrings but are open with balls to grip the nipple with just enough pressure to stay attached.

  She releases her nipples, giving them another squeeze first before reaching for the bull rings. First, she attaches the left and exhales, closing her eyes for a moment. As she attaches the right, her tongue darts out and swipes across her bottom lip.

  I fight every urge in my body to blink, not wanting to miss a moment of it. Her nipples stick up, held that way by the rings, erect and hard. “Wet your fingers and run them across the top of your nipples.”

  The simple pinch of anything on the nipple heightens the feel of even the lightest touch. She swallows before gathering the moisture left on her lips to wet her fingertips. Two fingers hover over her nipples, and she closes her eyes as she lowers them, gliding them across the tips.

  She moans, her knees pulling away from the table.

  Poor thing. To be so needy and to be helpless to make it stop has to suck, but I’ll give her relief soon enough. Although I like her needy, I don’t want to drive her so far over the edge that she’ll never want to meet me here again.

  “Enough,” I tell her as her fingertips continue to caress the tips. “Remove the cylinder.”

  Her clit is huge, almost filling the tube after being left like that for more than ten minutes. Her fingers feel around for the button, keeping her eyes locked on me as she finally releases it and sets it to the side.

  Peeking through her hood, her clit is sticking out, completely engorged and begging for attention. She is wetter than she was before—the suction like a mouth wrapping around her clit with no remorse or escape.

  I rub my hands together and lean forward to get a better view. “Eyes on me. Touch yourself. You’re only allowed to use your fingers to come.” Without looking down, I put the bullet on high. No more intermittent pulses, just constant vibrations that lick her G-spot.

  She traces a path down her belly, stroking the side of her clit, testing the sensitivity. Her back arches off the table, and she gasps.

  “Touch it,” I say through gritted teeth, feeling myself teetering on the edge again. “Don’t move your hand away until I tell you.”

  Slowly, she traces tiny circles around her clit, her bottom rising up and down as if trying to get away from the overwhelming stimulation. The bullet vibrates, almost audibly, and the plug shifts with each convulsion of her sweet cunt.

  The closer she comes to her orgasm, the smaller the circles her finger makes, eventually moving back and forth at a rapid pace. Her toes curl around the edge of the table, and her legs shake wildly.

  “Eyes on me,” I remind her.

  Her moans grow louder, her body quaking uncontrollably as her back arches. When her breathing stops and she bears down, riding out the orgasm, the bullet moves, barely visible inside her.

  She writhes against the table, her body turning from side to side while trying to keep her feet planted on the edge. Good girl.

  So far I’m pleased with her ability to follow directions without much hesitation. With a little more training and time, she could become the perfect submissive. Sex is only a part of it. The person offering their service has to be willing to trust their partner and give themselves over completely, for any purpose.

  When her body relaxes and she gasps for air, I know my work here is done.

  Six

  Alese

  I barely make it down the stairs to the main floor of The Club. I have one hand in Ret’s and the other gripping the railing, holding on for dear life as I try to steady myself and not tumble to the bottom.

  He helps me to the same booth we sat in earlier. The evil bastard made me keep the plug and the bullet nestled inside me when we left the room. Like I didn’t have a hard enough time walking from the intense orgasm, having my ass filled and my pussy stuffed made everything worse.

  When I slide across the seat, the plug digs deeper into me. I squeeze my legs together, trying to relieve the pressure that built up during the walk, but my overly sensitive clit only makes things worse.

  “Let’s talk about tonight and how you feel,” he says, motioning toward our waitress we had earlier.

  “I feel good,” I tell him, staring straight into his eyes.

  “Was it hard for you to follow commands?” he asks and rubs the palms of his hands against his jeans.

  I shake my head. “Not really. Usually, I find it hard, but you made me comfortable and so turned on that I was willing to do anything you told me.”

  “Good.” He smiles
and glances toward the waitress when she sets our drinks down. “How do you feel about the plug and bullet still being inside of you?”

  “Fine,” I lie through my teeth and plaster on a fake smile. Literally, I have my jaw clenched when I answer him.

  “Liar,” he says and laughs before pushing my drink in front of me. “But it shows me your dedication.”

  He continues to talk, but I tune him out. Not because I’m not interested, but because he’s so handsome I can’t help but watch his facial expressions and the movement of his lips. They’re fuller than those of most men—lush and completely kissable. The slight stubble on his face makes him look older and more domineering.

  The same strand of hair that constantly falls in front of his face springs loose and rests against his forehead. I want to reach up and move it, just to touch him, but I resist the urge.

  “What do you think?” he asks, pulling me from my appraisal of him.

  “Can you repeat the question?” I smile, my cheeks burning with embarrassment.

  He raises an eyebrow, and the corner of his lip twitches. “Do you want to meet me here again next weekend?”

  Without hesitation, I say, “Yes.” And I nod a little too eagerly.

  “Good.” He smiles and my heart flutters. “But I won’t promise not to touch you next time.”

  I can’t stop myself from smiling more. “I’d like that.” I pull my bottom lip in between my teeth. If I am being completely honest, I want him to touch me right now.

  “But not until you ask for it. Normally, if you were mine, I’d do what I want. But since we’re new and you’re still not convinced 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 m
y 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.