Switch

by Desiree Holt

  He gave her a heart-stopping smile and abruptly released her, stepping completely out of reach and leaving her so unsteady she wanted to crumple to the floor. “If you’re up to my challenge, Nina, I’m up to yours. Let me see you kneel for me.”

  It was just as well. She couldn’t have stayed on her feet for much longer. As gracefully as she could, Nina knelt on the carpet, sitting on her heels. Some primal instinct told her to keep her head lowered, and she waited for more orders, her focus narrowed only to his voice and her own body’s reactions.

  “Good,” he said softly, and a ripple went over her skin. “I like what I see, but I’ll like it even better when I’ve got you out of those clothes.”

  Nina tried not to squirm, but couldn’t help but press her thighs further together. He noticed. Of course he did. Jon was one of the most observant people she knew. “Oh, you like that idea? Aren’t you just the little slut…?”

  She was blushing, she could tell, but she remained silent. She had no idea what she could even say in response to that.

  “Spread those thighs for me, and put your arms behind your back.”

  Nina couldn’t comprehend, for a moment, what he wanted her to do. Before she could move, he crouched in front of her and pulled her knees apart.

  “Now stay there.” His breath was hot against her ear, turning her pussy to liquid. The sounds of his footsteps retreated, and Nina tried to make sense of this new, terrifying, hypnotic urge he could call up from within her.

  She trusted him, but this? What was he going to do to her? Tie her up? Spank her? She’d used handcuffs in bed, borne the occasional slap to her ass during sex, but orders like Jon’s were far out of her realm of experience.

  “Did you really just call me a slut?” she called towards the doorway, just to prove to both of them that she wasn’t completely cowed by him. After all, he hadn’t told her she couldn’t talk to him.

  There was a moment of silence as he stopped rustling around in the dining room. Then she heard laughter. “Good God, Nina, you’re the first submissive I’ve ever brought down to her knees who’s asked me that.”

  She scowled at the empty space where she expected him to reappear. “I’d have given you a good slap, too, if I’d been standing up.”

  “Don’t make me come in there,” he warned, and that growl was back in his voice again. It took all her willpower not to just let it wash over her.

  “What if I want you to come in here? What if I want to confirm or deny this slut issue face to face?”

  He muttered something she couldn’t make out, and after a few seconds more she heard something clink, followed by the slide of wood against wood as he closed a drawer. Her pulse skipped as he appeared in the doorway, then practically flatlined when she realised he’d taken off his shirt.

  “Oh, sure,” she mumbled. “You’re shirtless, and I’m the slut.”

  She heard Jon’s breath hitch in a muted laugh, but she couldn’t tear her ravenous eyes from his bare chest and abs to register the expression on his face. There was a subtle trail of dark hair leading down from his navel that disappeared below his waistband and, as he drew level with her, she had to clench her fists to suppress the urge to lean forward and lick his just-defined-enough-to-count six-pack.

  Down, girl, she chided herself.

  Jon crouched in front of her, holding out a leather collar with an understated, elegant D-ring attachment to the front. It looked like a toned-down version of the collars Nina’s niece had started wearing recently, as part of her goth phase. Somehow, Nina doubted this was a mere fashion statement.

  “While you’re wearing this, you obey my rules. Don’t speak unless you’re spoken to. When you do, you should address me as ‘Sir’. Obey my instructions promptly, or else use your safewords—yellow to slow down and red to stop. If anything I do is too much for you, you need to safeword, Nina. Do you understand?”

  She wavered between two urges—one to agree and hold her hair back for his collar, and one to burst into hysterical laughter. Was she really about to do this? Her employees would piss themselves laughing if they could see her now. The ones who weren’t too busy sunning themselves in the Bahamas, anyway—

  Jon tilted up her chin with a finger and kissed her lips briefly but firmly, calling her attention back to the matter at hand. God, he was shirtless in front of her. How could she be dwelling on the bullshit at work when she should be enjoying every second?

  “I understand.”

  Jon smiled and tugged at a lock of her hair. “Hold this away from your neck, then.”

  Nina did as he asked and shivered as he placed the accessory around her throat. The inside of the collar seemed to be lined with something soft.

  Then Jon dragged the strap through the buckle and tightened the collar, and Nina realised she didn’t care about what might be lining it, didn’t care about the outside world. The room seemed to spin, just a little, and she breathed deeply, dropping her chin to her chest as Jon ensured the buckle was secure and let it go.

  “Hands behind your back again, slut.”

  While she obeyed, Jon moved around to stand in front of her. “How does that feel?”

  How could she describe it? She was simultaneously calm and buzzing with anticipation. Sitting perfectly still, yet restless. Expectant, but patient.

  “Strange,” she said honestly.

  He grabbed a fistful of her hair and dragged her head back, gazing into her face. She read the disapproval there and caught her breath, trying to pinpoint where she’d gone wrong.

  Something in his face softened, and he prompted, “Strange, what?”

  The missing puzzle piece clicked home, and she rolled her eyes. “Strange, Sir.”

  He released his hold on her with a light push against her scalp, sending her swaying a little. “Don’t roll your eyes at me again, slut, or you’ll regret it. And think very carefully before you decide to challenge me on that.”

  Nina suppressed her smile with an effort and lowered her gaze to her lap again. It would grate on her to apologise, so she kept silent, waiting.

  His next question startled her out of her composure, however.

  “Are you wearing panties today?”

  “You think I work in an office all day with no underwear on? Seriously?”

  She could have sworn she heard Jon sigh, but he ignored her breach of protocol to make her senses reel with just two words. “Not yet.”

  Chapter Three

  Just the idea of walking around her office commando on nothing but Jon’s say-so flooded her panties, and she wriggled just a little, seeking stimulation.

  His voice was almost a purr of satisfaction. “Oh, you’d get off on that, wouldn’t you, slut?”

  “Yes, Sir.” The response fell automatically from Nina’s lips, and she scowled at the carpet in front of her. Had she really just said that? Why had it felt so natural?

  “Stand up.”

  She got up as gracefully as she could, though she wobbled a little. Jon stepped in close, gazing at her with an intensity that stalled her whirling thoughts and made time seem to stand still.

  Then he gathered up her blouse with both hands and yanked it open in one brutal move. Stitching tore and buttons pinged loose to scatter over the carpet, and Nina cried out in wordless shock.

  Jon laughed softly, sliding the torn garment down over her shoulders. It slipped from her arms and fell to the ground, and gooseflesh rippled over her skin as her nipples tightened against her sheer black bra.

  “Now we’re getting somewhere,” Jon told her, and Nina watched him, desperate for his kiss, his touch…anything.

  “You want me to touch you, don’t you, slut? You want me to take off that bra of yours and use my tongue on your hard little nipples.”

  The mental image made her body cry out, and she closed her eyes, nodding. “Yes, Sir.”

  “You see how it can be?” As he spoke, he began to circle her. The sounds of his voice and light footfalls indicated he was slowly m
oving anti-clockwise. “How much your body craves the control I can give you? How much your mind wants to surrender, even through all your stubbornness?”

  When he mentioned that particular character trait, Nina felt it come back to the fore. She bit down on the urge to tell him he was letting this get to his head, tightening her jaw against the words.

  Then Jon trailed a finger from the nape of her neck down to her bra fastening, and she shivered, her resistance fading.

  “Undo your pants.”

  Nina fumbled with the button and zipper at her waistband with uncharacteristically clumsy fingers, thanking her lucky stars she’d worn a matching bra and thong set to work that day.

  “Let them fall.”

  Biting her lip, she pushed the thin material down over her hips and felt her suit pants puddle around her ankles.

  “Now step out of them and lose the socks, too.”

  Jon’s voice was slightly rougher now, as if he were affected by what he saw. She didn’t dare look up to gauge his reaction, instead kicking aside her pants and peeling off her socks. Naked but for her underwear and the collar he’d placed around her neck, she shivered with a combination of chilliness and anticipation.

  “Good girl.” He approached her and slipped a finger through the silver ring on the collar, giving a light tug. It was enough to put her slightly off balance, and she leant forward, her lips just a fraction of an inch from his.

  Kiss me. Do it. Please…

  He smiled a little and stepped back, keeping his finger hooked through her collar’s ring. “Follow.”

  Her pulse thudding incessantly in her cunt, she let him lead her through the house, up the stairs to his bedroom. She’d never had occasion to visit it before and, as Jon released her collar and commanded her to kneel, Nina couldn’t help but look around at the rich red drapes and bedspread, the dark wooden furniture and textured sienna walls.

  She felt Jon’s eyes on her as she sank to the floor. Was it warmer up here because he’d made sure it would be, or was it her own blood rushing through her skin that heated her?

  “So many things a submissive can do while she’s on her knees.”

  Oh, yeah? Get me half naked, drag me to your bedroom and expect me to go down on you right away? Fuck that.

  “Yellow.”

  She could sense his surprise. He crouched beside her and met her eyes, searching her expression. “Speak.”

  “I’m not your sex slave, Jon.” Nina shrugged uncomfortably. “If you wanted me to blow you, you didn’t have to go through all this. You could have just come on to me.”

  He regarded her, his growing amusement obvious. “You think that’s what this is about?”

  “What else am I supposed to think?” she demanded, her temper flaring.

  Jon rose from his crouch and held out a hand to help her up, too. Nina took it, then hugged herself self-consciously once she was upright.

  “Come here.”

  She followed him across to the ottoman and watched him open it and begin taking things out. Coils of rope, paddles, leather restraints, many-tasselled floggers, thin, evil-looking canes…

  “Wow,” she murmured, intrigued despite herself. “This is…a lot of stuff.”

  “And all of it can be used non-sexually.”

  Nina took a breath to argue, but realised he was right. No vibrators, no lube, no massage oils—she couldn’t even see condoms. Someone might find pleasure in being restrained or hurt, but it would be more indirect than just plain sex. Would it even be the same kind of pleasure?

  “I’ve used all this equipment in platonic play sessions with friends. If you hadn’t been so obviously aroused when I first mentioned kink, I would have suggested we start that way.”

  She gnawed on her lip, mulling that over. She probably owed him an apology for jumping to conclusions, but she was hesitant to go there just yet. “If it’s not sexual, then why? Why do all this?”

  “Is it all sexual for you?” he asked, the curiosity in his voice pulling her gaze back to him.

  Was he kidding? From the moment they’d faced off in the living room, Nina had been aching for him, desperate for his touch.

  He must have read the answer in her face, because he gave her that fucking gorgeous smile again. Irritated, she snapped, “Yeah, well, it’s been a while.”

  “For me, too.”

  She blinked at him, and he shrugged, sitting on the edge of the bed. “I suggested you submit to me because, if I do it right, I can take you to a place in your head where nothing will matter but you, and what you’re feeling right then. I can make your thoughts stop. I can calm this down.”

  He pressed a light kiss against her temple, drawing back before she could turn her head to find his lips.

  Nina swallowed the lump in her throat and willed the illogical, inexplicable tears in her eyes away. What are you doing? Just ‘cause your friend wants to do something nice for you, you’re gonna cry, now?

  “And I might get hard while I’m in charge of you. You’re practically naked and obviously turned on, and I want you.” His voice deepened at the admission, and her cunt tingled in response. “But that doesn’t mean I’ll order you to do something about it. At least, not this time.”

  Nina struggled to find the right words, but everything either seemed trite or too confused for her to express. Instead, she let her actions speak for her. Dropping to her knees in front of him, she laced her fingers together behind her back and bowed her head.

  For a moment he was silent, but then he took a deep breath. “Thank you for trusting me.”

  She smiled, her head still lowered, and waited. In her peripheral vision, she saw Jon’s feet move over to the ottoman again, heard various clinks and rustles as he began to prepare things.

  Chapter Four

  Just when she was beginning to fidget, he said, “As I was saying, there’s a lot a submissive can do while she’s on her knees. Even more when she’s on her hands and knees.”

  Nina’s mouth went dry as a new image imprinted itself in her imagination. Jon stepping up behind her, guiding her onto her hands and knees, tearing away her panties and driving into her from behind, taking her hard and fast while she rocked backward to meet his every thrust. Her cunt tightened at the fantasy, and she bit back a soft moan.

  “Up on the bed, slut.” Jon’s voice was tinged with enough of that dominant tone to have her scrambling to her feet in an instant. She climbed onto the bed, and the cool red fabric of the bedspread sent a momentary chill through her.

  “On your hands and knees, facing the headboard.”

  Fantasising about doing it was one thing. Actually turning her back to him and assuming the position he expected of her was something else entirely. She trembled a little as she knelt facing the direction he required of her, then leant forward to rest some of her weight on her hands. When she raised her ass off her heels and arched her back slightly, hyperawareness of how she must look rushed through her.

  Before she could even begin to adjust to the position, though, Jon ordered, “Legs farther apart. As wide as you can get them without discomfort.”

  Nina bit her lip and widened the gap between her knees, giving up whatever false sense of modesty she’d been clinging to. The warm air of the bedroom was nevertheless cool against the damp fabric of her thong, and she knew Jon could see the swell of her barely covered labia below the curves of her ass. She’d never felt so deliciously vulnerable before. If he wanted to caress the sensitive, flushed skin of her cunt, all he would have to do was reach down and yank aside her thong and there she’d be, open and ready for his every desire.

  Which must have been exactly how he wanted it.

  Her breath was ragged, she realised, and she began to regulate each inhalation and exhalation, striving for calmness. By the time Jon trailed a single finger down her spine, she had sunk into an almost meditative state—alert and aware, without feeling halfway out of her mind with impatience.

  “Good girl. You’re learning.” He
skated the finger down over her tailbone, lightly skimming the crease between her buttocks without delving deeper, then abruptly pulled his hand away just before he reached her cunt. Nina bit down on a whimpered protest, keeping her silence with an effort, but he must have read her body language, because he laughed.

  “Oh, you wanted me to stroke that pretty little cunt? If you beg me for it, maybe I will.”

  She knew Jon too well to fall for that, allowing herself a small smile as he paused, listening for her response. Getting none, he moved on. “Guess you’ll never know if I would have.”

  His first slap was a mere tap on the pale flesh of her left buttock, his palm barely doing more than brushing the skin. Even so, it was sudden enough to make Nina catch her breath. She dug her fingers into the bedspread and braced herself better, preparing for more.

  Another light tap, this one on her right buttock. She waited, a strange impatience gathering in her stomach.

  Left again—harder. Her skin tingled, just a little.

  Right. The same sensation, more pleasurable than painful, really.

  Left—fuck!

  She didn’t realise she’d cried out until Jon chuckled. Her flesh stung for less than a heartbeat, then faded, leaving a slight heat in its wake. She took a deep breath, anticipating the next blow with an excitement that unnerved her.

  Right again, and this time she suppressed her cry of shock and pain. She would hardly have had time to utter it before his hand came down again on her left buttock, then her right, left, right…

  Jon built up a steady rhythm, alternating cheeks, varying the location of his strikes so that the delicious pain blossomed and faded on every part of her buttocks and the tops of her thighs. Each strike rocked her forward slightly, the motion making her all too aware of her wet pussy soaking the fabric of her thong. After one particularly hard strike, she moaned softly, and Jon paused, running his palms over her buttocks, smoothing away the hurt and leaving warmth behind.

  “How are you doing, slut?” he asked.

  “Good, Sir—”