Switch

03Apr12

switchLinda glanced around the room to take in the party. A slightly plump girl was getting a sound whipping in one corner. She had been tied to an X-frame for some time before a master had come to claim her. She was pretty enough, but the most striking thing about her, was her tattoos.

Then for a moment, Linda’s view was obscured by a large biker type leading a gimp on a chain.

Linda yawned. There were so few interesting people at these parties any more. They were all just posers and wannabes, she thought, reaching out to pat the kneeling Tory’s hair and chuckle her chin. The girl giggled and tucked in her head meekly.

Tory had been her slave for 18 months. They had met at one of these parties. She was pretty and petite, with short golden hair and big blue eyes. She had worked as a bank clerk of all things and Lind had yet to persuade her to come and live with her full time.

Tory’s tight leopard skin cat suit matched Linda’s own full length coat worn with a pill box fascinator over black leather.

At 32, Linda had been a top on the scene for over 10 years and she was still unfulfilled.

She preferred men to girls, but she hated submissive men. Her dream was to find a top who was prepared to be an equal partner in her games, but most male tops didn’t do equal and her last vanilla boyfriend had given up on her and her strange hobby.

That’s the trouble right there, she thought. For me this is no hobby, it is a way of life. Linda yawned again. She took in a delicate red head being spanked with a PVC paddle by a butch girl in a black dress and bovver boots. It wasn’t a good look, Linda sneered. She hated playing in public and the players were nothing special tonight.

Just then her eyes were taken by a small girl with strawberry blonde topknot and mini skirt that could be worn as a belt. Her white stockings and suspenders matched her tiny corset and Linda thought she was the most beautiful creature she had ever seen. Linda’s mouth went dry and a tingling tightness tugged like a cord from her throat to her sex. It was like a switch in her head. She had to have that girl.

The girl was being led on a chain by an elegant man with salt and pepper hair and a sharp suit. Linda hadn’t seen him before, but he looked the kind of man she would love to partner up with.

Linda spent the rest of night watching the pair, occasionally even sizing the girl up through the loop on her riding crop which she held up to her face look through like a monocle.

If the man or woman noticed, they did not show it and Linda became increasingly frustrated as she tried to think of a way to effect an introduction.

Finally as the party began to thin out, Linda watched as the man leaned forward and whispered something in the little blonde’s ear. Then the object of her interest lifted herself delicately to her feet and meekly crossed the room towards her.

Linda’s heart began to race as she realised that the girl was approaching her.

“My master asks you to join us,” the girl said as she approached, all without meeting Linda’s eyes.

“I suppose I could,” Linda said tossing her head and affecting nonchalance.

The girl seemed unimpressed with Linda’s attitude and merely shrugged as if to say ‘suit yourself;’ not that she would ever dare say it.

Linda waited until the blonde had returned to her master before casually getting to her feet and leading Tory across the room to the impressive couple.

She didn’t hurry and as she stood she turned her impeccably combed chestnut-haired head as if to take in the rest of the room. Her aloof posture seemed to say, ‘maybe I’ll join him, maybe I won’t.’

Then carefully placing one leg in front of the other, Linda confidently strode across the room towards the master and his slave.

The man did not look up until she had almost closed with him, the girl not at all.

“What a pretty girl you have there,” he said.

Linda shook her head in annoyance and glanced angrily at Tory. “She’s alright,” she managed.

“But it is not her that interests you tonight is it?” The man said smoothly turning to pet the blonde at his side. “Oh how remiss of me. I am Roland Drake, this is Petra.”

Linda nodded her attention now torn between Roland and Petra. He had a very disarming manner.

“Is she…” Linda began.

“Aren’t you going to introduce yourselves?” Roland cut her off.

Linda scowled and then hastily tried to recover herself. “Linda, Mistress Linda, oh this is Tory.”

“Do you have a first name Miss Linda?” Roland said, his dark baritone almost mocking her. “Or were you christened Mistress? Although I must say it is rather a common name around here.”

“Are you taking the piss?” Linda retorted.

“Yes,” Roland replied, smiling so that the corners of his eyes crinkled up.

Linda stared at him for a moment and considered becoming belligerent.

Then she said, “Linda Graham if you must know.”

“Linda,” he said with a grin as if having a revelation. “Please sit down.”

Linda slid into a chair next to his and struck up what she hoped was a confident pose.

“You don’t mind if we dispense with the Mistress part, I do get so irked by these fake affectations,” Roland said casually as he poured some wine into a fresh wine glass that had suddenly appeared.

“Are you telling me Roland Drake is your real name?” Linda challenged.

“Yes,” he said placing the glass in front of her.

Linda retreated a little, feeling that she had lost that round. Taking a sip of wine, she licked her lips and prepared another tack.

“I wonder if you would allow me to play with Petra for a while,” she ventured.

“I don’t play and nor do my girls,” Roland said sharply. “Consider yourself a bit of a player do you?”

“I have been around,” Linda said. She was unnerved now. Didn’t this guy know any of the etiquette?

“For me this is no game,” Roland said darkly as he leaned forward. Then ignoring her mistress he said to Tory, “Tell me Tory, do you have a job?”

Tory blushed and nodded and opened her mouth to tell him.

“It’s not important,” Roland said dismissively, “My point has been made I think.”

“I have tried to persuade her…” Linda blustered, “But…”

Roland dismissed her with his hand. “Tried. Persuade.”

Linda flushed angrily and glared at Tory.

“So you want a dalliance with my Petra here do you?” Roland said clasping his hands under his chin.

Linda felt her throat tighten again and she crossed and then uncrossed her legs. Why was he making this so difficult?

“I’ll make you a proposition,” he said as if considering something. “You come back with me to my place and we will have a little party of our own. You cooperate with me and maybe I’ll let you… ‘play.’”

As he spoke he looked admiringly at Tory and Linda wondered if at last they had reached an understanding.

“I think that would be acceptable,” Linda said, licking her lips.

*

Linda flexed her wrists and tried to find some give. She had been fixed across the bench for an age now and her knees had begun to get sore. She was naked and he had said that she must be secured before he would deliver six of the cane to her exposed bottom. This was a requirement that had almost made her leave. But then she had looked at Petra and in a mood beyond reluctance had agreed.

Earlier she had been surprised when he had placed a pack of cards on the table where she sat with Tory and Petra.

“So you like to play do you?” He had said. “I’ll tell you what, after a few hands of strip poker I’ll let you show me what you are made of with Petra. The only proviso is that I decide when the game ends.”

“But I still get to… play if I lose,” Linda said eagerly.

“My word on it,” Roland agreed.

Linda hadn’t been too phased by the risk to getting naked with the man. After all she was no innocent, but she hadn’t been prepared for what came next.

After only 40 minutes he had comprehensively beaten her down to nothing.

“I guess you win,” she said sheepishly.

“Not quite yet,” he said tapping the pack on the table and preparing to deal another hand.

“But I’m naked,” she gasped shielding her breasts.

“One more hand I think. If I lose then the game is over and you can fulfil our little bargain.”

“And if you don’t?” She didn’t like where this was going.

“Then you have to surrender to six of the best.”

“What?” She exclaimed. “Look I don’t…”

He shrugged. “You can bail if you like and go home. But if you want to… play, then it will be on my terms.”

That was how she had found herself cuffed to a frame in a kneeling position to await a sharp six from the bastard trickster.

The thing was, she hadn’t counted on being left in place while he went off with the two girls to play on his own.

“Hang on. You can’t leave me like this,” she had wailed.

“I can do whatever I like. You agreed to take six. I just didn’t specify when I would give them.”

That had been maybe an hour before and he had still hadn’t returned.

Somewhere she heard Tory giggle. Treacherous bitch, she thought. Then the sound got nearer and she craned her neck to see Roland and the two girls approaching.

“Is Mistress Linda ready to take the cane now?” Roland said breezily.

“Look I didn’t agree to be in caned in front of…”

“You just don’t get it do you,” Roland barked. “My house, my rules.”

Then Linda saw the cane and swallowed.

She had been caned before. A long time ago she had tried the other side of things, but she had hated not being in control. She hated submitting to losers.

“Taking six from me means counting them and saying thank you Sir,” Roland informed her.

“Look if you think I am going to…”

The cane sang across her exposed bare bottom.

“Silence,” he snapped.

“What do you want from me silence or do I count?” Linda snapped angrily.

Roland placed another sharp line below the first. Linda responded with a bitter grunt deep in her throat.

“Shall we begin?” Roland asked in an enforced tone of reasonableness.

The only sound then was that of Linda’s breath as she scowled angrily in front of her. She was acutely aware that both Tory and Petra and didn’t know if she could ever top either of them after this.

The first official stroke cut hard between the two previous lines on her bottom and she made a lemon face and held on.

“No?” Roland said after a moment. Then he caned her again.

Linda grunted and fixed her eyes on a spot on the wall.

“Are you sure you don’t want to count?” Roland asked.

“Oh you,” Linda spat angrily.

Roland caned again hard and Linda yelped.

“I really think you should count these,” Roland suggested.

“Fuck you,” Linda said unconvincingly.

“I am going to add two extra strokes for that,” Roland said lightly.

“Look,” Linda began.

“No you look. If you want to call it off then do so. Otherwise do as you are told.” Roland placed another stroke along the fold between her thighs and her bottom.

“Four,” Linda said miserably.

“I hardly think so,” Roland said incredulously. “If you want to count it then it is most definitely number one. And I believe there was another requirement.”

“One it was four,” Linda wailed.

Roland caned her again.

“Five,” Linda gasped.

“Sure?”

“Alright, alright let’s get this over with. One, OK,” Linda said grudgingly.

“One?” Roland prompted.

“One, thank you… Sir.” Linda mumbled.

“Better,” Roland said grandly as he lay on another.

“Two thank you Sir,” Linda wailed. A tear rolled down one cheek.

“Just six more to go,” Roland said happily as he adjusted his position.

“Six you bastard, it’s four,” Linda wailed frantically.

“Plus two extras, well three extras now, shall we make it four?” Roland asked darkly.

“No… I mean please no Sir.”

“Good girl,” Roland beamed and caned again.

Linda was moist-eyed by the time the caning was over and struggling to contain the new emotion of humility.

“That wasn’t so bad was it?” Roland soothed as he released her. “Do you want to claim your prize now or shall I hold it over for another night when you are feeling… more toppy?”

Linda couldn’t meet his eyes until he held her chin and raised her head.

“Please I…”

Roland handed her a glass of whiskey and shushed her.

“I suppose you hate me now,” he said sadly.

She blushed and shook her head.

“I don’t… I mean, I don’t suppose you would consider partnering me up for… well you know,” Linda felt 16 again and was suddenly very shy.

“I might consider a junior partner,” Roland said easily. Then flexing is cane he added, “A very junior partner.”

Linda swallowed and eyed the cane nervously. “Listen, okay, but I don’t switch.”

“Want to bet?” Roland said.

Ends.



14 Responses to “Switch”

  1. 1 Poppy

    I love this. It reminds me of a beautiful woman I saw recently.

  2. 2 paul1510

    Damian,
    excellent, it’s chastening when a wannabe meets a real—! 😀
    Paul.

  3. Oh, really enticing. I’m swooning for Roland a bit. Maybe he’ll make another visit here sometime?

    • 4 DJ

      Poppy Paul and Scarlet it seems that Roland has some fans. 😉

  4. 5 Markomat

    Loved it!
    Guess being a man(and a top) I ALWAYS want a good ,hot, sore bottomed
    female learning to be a bottom. In every sense of the word!
    Thanks.

  5. 6 Ayla

    Be still my heart! Not a wannabe & not quite a switch, but alpha female looking for an alpha male with no success. Thanks for the fantasy, DJ. I think I live on the wrong side of the Atlantic.

  6. 7 Cindy

    I really liked this story.

    Thanks for posting it.

  7. Having both seen and experienced women like our dear Linda here I have always wondered how they best should be handled. I guess you just showed me. Thank you.

  8. 9 Sir T

    Absolutely brilliant, though I do admit that I have looked upon other party members with Linda’s eyes.
    There is so much beauty out there. It’s a pity that it is topped with so much less character.

    • 10 DJ

      Markomat – I am with you but in real life not all girls switch 😉

      Ayla – you do. 🙂

      Cindy – thank you for reading it 😉

      Ehlane – yep sometimes for real and other times just on the page.

      Sir T – so you also know more than three 😉

  9. 11 Brigit

    good ! very good ! for once, I knew from the beginning that Linda was … how can I say ? she was lost. not sure this is the correct English word.
    and she makes a couple of mistakes that wrap her case.
    anyway, the text is still excellent as to the man resolute mind and the woman lack of self-control. I like the play of words, very simple but fully effective, he uses to trap her. (I know, I know, she trap herself but … you know what I mean)
    B

    • 12 DJ

      Lost works.

      She is still on a quest and has not yet found maybe what you meant?

      Thanks

      DJ 😉


  1. 1 Petulance « Grumpy old fart!!!
  2. 2 chross.blogt.ch

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