Em & Mike Ch. 04: Fantasy Swap

Further adventures of Emily and Mike, (names changed). Can be read in series or standalone, background in Ch. 1.

Mike made a bet with me.

The idea was that we guess at an upcoming sports result, the loser had to share a dirty fantasy, one that embarrassed them to talk about.

It was either gonna be win, lose or evens.

I'm always about positive thinking so I'm like WIN. Nah.

Mike was feeling pessimistic. Lose - ah nope.

So, we both lost that one and both had to share a dirty fantasy.

I made Mike go first on the basis that he should have had more faith in the first place.

"I don't think you will be up for this one." Mike warned.

"That's because you have no idea what a bad girl I actually am!" I teased.

Mike told me he was turned on by the thought of public sex, the risk of getting caught.

"Well not actual intercourse maybe." he clarified, "but an activity that could get you arrested."

"Hand job in the cinema?"

"Yea," he sniggered, "Something like that."

"That's very interesting." I mused.

"Does that mean you're gonna give me a hand job in the cinema?" Mike asked hopefully.

"No." I pulled a sad face, "Night vision cameras."

We both laughed.

Then it was my turn, and I hesitated for a few minutes, trying to think of something less embarrassing than what was jumping about in the front of my brain.

Mike just watched me, the smirk on his face suggesting that he was reading my mind, I HATE when he does that.

Reluctantly I admitted, my face flushing, that I have a crush fantasy.

"What like getting run over by a car?" Mike asked, looking shocked.

"No, but I love reading those stories." I admitted.

"More like some sort of box, or clamp. Clampy box." I shrugged.

Mike looked confused.

"Em, you're claustrophobic."

I laughed, "Yes I know, that's why it's called a fantasy."

"So?" Mike just waved his hand, indicating I should continue.

"I don't know." I struggled.

"I guess it's a punishment fantasy really. Someone else having complete control, watching me. Enjoying using a punishment to arouse me."

"So, it's like a device?"

"Yea." I nodded; I could feel my face burning.

"It tends to be a bit steampunk in my head."

I fidgeted.

"I think it came from the whole, lady being sawn in half in the circus thing, even as a kid I loved that. Just had to grow up to realize why."

"We can work with this; this could be an incredibly fucking hot fantasy." Mike growled in my ear.

He stood up, readjusting himself with a wince, then grinning at me pointed at the floor.

"Lie on the floor Emily."

"What?"

"I'm taking charge. Lie on the floor."

I stared at him for a moment, he had something in mind, but I couldn't think what.

We normally planned sessions, so I wasn't quite sure how to behave.

"Should I take my clothes off?"

"No, it's fine, face up."

Okay, so this wasn't an impromptu Master game.

I lay on the floor and Mike straddled me, putting his weight right on my pussy and the tops of my legs, so I was trapped and super turned on, instantly.

He then opened the top of my jeans and tugged them down slightly and pushed up my top a little, before starting to explore my stomach and waist with his fingertips.

He smiled at me, "Your skin is so soft here, so pale."

I just watched him, unsure.

Mike started to massage my skin a little harder, his hands encircling my middle.

"I think your waist is your most erogenous zone, isn't it? That and your hot, wet pussy." he leaned down and kissed me, I just moaned into his mouth in agreement.

Mike sat back up and encircled my waist with his hands, his thumbs were both pressing in slightly at my belly button.

I shifted against him and gave him a puzzled frown. In response he pressed harder with his thumbs.

My breath caught and my system went to high alert.

"Oh yes." I breathed.

Mike grinned, pleased I had caught on.

"I can put a lot of pressure here." he said, squeezing my waist a bit harder before withdrawing again.

"Oh please, yes please." I was already begging.

"Do you want me to crush your waist Emily?"

"Yes, yes please."

He rocked himself against me and we both moaned.

"Stop fucking teasing me." I complained, already breathless.

He leaned forwards and pushed his thumbs into me, pressing hard into my belly button and increasing his grip on my waist.

I gasped and tried to push my centre against him, while grabbing his arms and trying to pull him down closer, harder.

Mike rocked against me again, causing us both to shudder, then he changed his grip and making two fists pressed them against my middle.

He waited for me to look up and meet his eyes.

"I'm not going to punch you Emily, I would never do that."

"I know, I'm okay." I confirmed.

Reassured, Mike pushed all his weight on to his fists, causing to air to rush out of me in a grunt, he leaned right over and kissed me hard.

I couldn't get my breath back and was trying to rub against him, but his weight held me still.

I was gasping in air when Mike pushed himself back up, his weight still digging into my vulnerable middle.

Then he started to massage at the red marks, as I wriggled underneath him.

"Please, more, harder." I gasped.

"Any harder I'm going to bruise you."

"Please I don't care, Oh God, I am so turned on right now."

Mike studied me, I was shaking with need by now and vibrating under him.

"Do you want me to throttle your waist Emily?" he asked, his voice rough.

"Please, yes please."

"You are going to have a bruise."

"I don't care."

"How aggressive do you want it?"

I looked at him, kissing my fingers I reached up and touched them to his lips.

"Please, hurt me, make me cry, don't stop."

A look of furious need crossed Mike's face and the air was forced out of me again as he pressed violently into my middle and squeezed my waist as hard as he could.

Mike's hands are big, and he was literally shaking me, as if choking me, but instead of my neck it was my waist.

My hands fell out to the sides and I grunted with each shake, more air being forced out of me.

Then Mike shifted slightly for more leverage and the friction against my pussy sent me over, I started to cum.

Mike deliberately shifted again, and that was it, I was gone.

Gasping and coughing and sobbing I came hard.

Mike gave me one more shake for good measure and then collapsed, laughing on top of me.

"Fucking hell Em, I was barely touching your pussy, just a bit of pressure."

My arms were still flung out sideways and Mike reached out, grasping my hands so his entire body was covering mine, pinning me to the floor.

This made it harder to get my breath back, his weight crushing me, but it felt so good.

After a while he shifted and pulled me in for a cuddle, still on the floor.

He massaged again at the deeper red marks. I caught his face and kissed him; I didn't want him regretting it.

"That was amazing."

He smiled. "This is going to sound terrible, but I really want to see those bruises."

I gave a fake horrified gasp.

"You're happy you marked me?"

"I'm going to kiss them and bite them," he said grinning as his fingers moved down my stomach and lower, "but now I want payment."

My body arched as Mike's fingers pushed inside me and I started to groan.

-

I was incredibly pleased with myself the day I thought of how to make Mike's public fantasy come to life.

It wasn't that difficult really; the challenge was having a real risk with a very low chance of getting charged with public indecency, or worse.

I informed him by text, that he had an appointment with Mistress at 11 am on the Saturday morning and he should dress for the beach.

When he tried to pick my brains about the strange request, I just advised him that Mistress hadn't shared her plans with me, much to his annoyance.

Mike is better at staying in character than I am, he usually only slips out of Master to reassure me. I tend to jump between myself and my Mistress persona more easily, (I get the giggles a lot).

I could, when needed, stay in character though, and refused to give any clues this time.

Saturday morning found me sitting in an old-fashioned booth in a popular 1950's style diner, with a milkshake and sadly a paper straw. (Don't get me wrong, I'm all for the plastic straw ban but paper ones taste weird, admit it).

Mike came in, T-Shirt and shorts, looking beach ready and very confused.

He slid into the booth, wrinkled his nose at my creamy milkshake and then grinned at me.

"Jesus Christ, I didn't know you even owned a proper skirt."

I just looked at him, raising one brow, a skill that he is supremely jealous of.

He tried to look apologetic.

"Sorry Mistress." he said quietly, glancing around. "You look very pretty in that outfit and I really like the skirt."

I continued to observe him, simply raising the other brow, independently (yes, I have that power), and laughing inside because I know it really pisses him off.

He glared at me briefly but then sat quietly, hands in his lap, gaze down.

Mike has annoying skills as well of course, he is ambidextrous and his ability to write clearly with either hand is extremely annoying. As I can't write clearly at all.

Mind you he can do other things equally well with both hands and that is lots of fun.

I shifted a little closer, crowding him.

"I didn't bring you here for conversation."

"Sorry Mistress."

I dipped my finger in the whipped cream and then ran it along his bottom lip, before sucking my finger clean.

Mike didn't look at me or dare to lick his lips, he just sat.

He might be still learning the whole submissive thing, but at least he tries.

Leaning into him even closer I turned his head and sucked the cream from his lip, pulling it slightly into my mouth before releasing him.

I had allowed my hand to fall casually into his lap and I felt him go rock hard, so fast it must have hurt.

I sat back in the booth but didn't give him any more room, I know he had to resist the urge to regain some personal space.

Mike's eye's darted around the diner, to check if anyone had seen my provocative kiss, but it was all screaming kids and distracted parents.

He was breathing hard and flicked a look at me, it was clear from his eyes he was super turned on but nervous.

I smiled at him and discreetly took his hand under the table. A waiter came over, delivered another small milkshake and diet coke that I had ordered for when Mike arrived.

Mike kept his gaze on the tabletop but said 'thank you' quietly when I squeezed his hand. The waiter gave him an odd glance and went away.

Holding my glass in my left hand, I used my right to move Mike's hand.

Indicating that Mike should also hold his coke, we both sat there, cradling our drinks, super close together as I moved Mike's left hand under my skirt and pressed him against me.

Mike nearly choked on his drink as he realized my intent.

I leant back in the booth again, still holding my drink, gazing around at the customers, my hand resting lightly in Mike's lap, just nudging his erection, as he started to gently rub me.

I sighed and he started to stroke me harder, my panties were already soaked, and he slipped a finger under lacy edge and pushed inside me, then continued pressing and stroking me with this thumb.

"You had better keep a lookout." I warned before pressing my face into Mike's shoulder, we were both sniggering now.

My eyes were squeezed shut as I started to shake.

Both our laughs turned to quiet gasps as I clenched around Mike's fingers and moaned against his arm.

When I came back to myself, I opened my eyes to see Mike cheekily licking his finger, as if he had gotten some coke on it.

He frowned as I removed my hand from his lap, doing no more than nudging his cock, and put my attention back to my drink.

"You had better go and wash up." I said without looking at him.

Before Mike could retaliate with 'What the Fuck?' I pushed a finger to his lip.

"I'm pleased with you. If you want a treat, don't fuck it up."

Anger flared in his eyes.

I thought for a moment he was going to safe word out and then cheerfully strangle me, but then after a pause he managed.

"Yes Mistress."

He swallowed his complaint down, not easily, but stood and walked to the bathroom, his spine stiff with resentment, his cock stiff with need and obviously uncomfortable.

I let out the breath I hadn't realized I was holding.

I loved that Mike didn't lose all his attitude when he submitted.

He didn't surrender, he submitted, often under protest. It excited both of us that he hated it as much as he wanted it.

I loved pushing his temper when I was in charge.

However, note to self, 'Don't piss Mike off that badly again unless he's fully restrained in handcuffs.'

When he came back, I stood up, fluttering my eyelashes at him as I passed, and slipped into the bathroom to tidy up.

Mike was staring broodily out of the window at the ocean when I came back.

I went and paid and glancing only briefly at him, left the diner.

I crossed over to the beach and walked down the busy promenade.

I knew Mike was following me, but when I approached a crowd with a drunk guy screaming at a couple of cops, Mike came up beside me and took my hand.

Walking me quickly past the scene, he kept himself between me and the excited crowd.

We left them behind us, and Mike started to release my hand, whispering an apology, but I smiled at him and kept his hand in mine.

He's always very overprotective, it's super sweet.

Mike seemed happier now, and we soon approached a row of brightly painted beach huts.

I surprised him by stopping at one that had a view of the sea, squeezed between a busy arcade and an ice cream van.

Isolated it was not.

I pulled out a key and opened the main doors.

"Sorry." I said, "It's not very peaceful."

He shrugged, like 'it's okay.'

Pulling him inside I shut the half stable doors and quickly hung a large towel over them as if drying. It blocked the slats in the doors and went right down to the floor.

"Please hold these doors shut." I instructed.

Mike, completely flummoxed by his strange day, stepped forward and leaned on the doors, looking out at the view.

Obviously, he had decided all would become clear in time.

He stepped back a bit when I threw a cushion down in front of his feet.

"You'll need to keep those doors closed." I said, before squeezing onto the cushion and yanking his shorts down.

Mike had two seconds to grip the doors to stop my butt pushing them open, before I took him in my mouth.

In deep and one long hard suck out. My favourite way to start him off before the teasing began.

Mike's legs nearly went from under him with the sudden unexpected attack.

"Oh Fuck."

I started to explore, going with the theme of the ice cream van handing out goodies to the kids just a few steps away.

I licked and sucked and nibbled.

Taking my time and dreaming of raspberry syrup, though I loved Mike's taste almost as much.

Mike had the grip of death on the half doors, his head was hanging down, the expression on his face was agonized.

"Christ Emily, please."

I stopped and looked up at him.

"Did you just use your safe word?"

He shook his head, trying to get his bearings.

"No, sorry Mistress, I didn't mean to." He hated calling me Mistress in public in case someone overheard.

"Did I hurt you?"

"No Mistress, sorry it was a mistake."

"Perhaps you could try for a more casual look then, so we don't get arrested."

Mike took a deep breath and a better grip on the doors. He braced himself and faced the view.

I've always found the ocean relaxing but I was going to make sure that Mike didn't relax for a second.

I could see he was struggling not to grin now, so I pulled his shorts right off, to make him feel as vulnerable as possible.

He paled slightly and his knuckles went white on the door.

I started to kiss and lick his balls, very gently, while my fingers moved around and played with his hole. Just teasing, slipping slightly inside him.

Mike's breathing became fractured and he was pumping slightly, trying to move my attention back to his cock.

Instead, I started to kiss his thighs, holding his butt in both hands now.

He moaned in frustration but kept his gaze outwards, as if he was just enjoying the view.

His legs were starting to shake.

I shifted to a more comfortable position, careful not to push the doors open and then started to tease his cock again.

I nibbled at his base for ages, licked and nibbled and sucked, my favourite place.

At the same time, I cupped his balls in one hand, gently stoking and squeezing, while using my other hand to run my fingers firmly between his hole and his balls.

When I looked up, Mike was sweating and trembling from head to foot, breathing hard.

Anyone looking at him would assume he was resting after a run or something.

I wasn't worried if the door stayed closed. We should be fine so long as no one recognized him and came up for a chat.

That was the risk, and the fun.

I ran my tongue up the bottom of his cock before taking just the tip in my mouth.

He tried to thrust forward, so I squeezed his balls harder in warning. Mike retreated.

Now shaking from head to foot.

I was really enjoying myself and aimed to give Mike the blow job of his life.

Slowly running my tongue and then my lips up and down his cock. Taking him deep before blowing on him and going back to nibbling.

Swirling my tongue around his head before ever so gently running my teeth down, then my lips back up.

Every so often giving him a few super hard fast sucks for variety.

Pausing for some water (and to flex my jaw), I glanced at my watch and was amazed to see I had been edging Mike for thirty minutes.

It was something that I wanted to explore more, but that was a long time in a public place.

I looked up and grinned.

Mike was a mess.

He was still gripping the door, but his head was below his arms again. No chance in hell of seeing anyone approach.

His eyes were full of tears, his breath sobbing, but despite that he was looking at me with an awed combination of desire and desperation.

I fucking LOVED being Mistress, it felt like flying.

Feeling slightly lightheaded myself, due to the amazing feeling of power. I stood up carefully, I had been sitting cross legged for a while.

Mike, breathing hard, automatically helped me up.

I took hold of the doors and pushed him in the chest.

It was a gentle shove, but he stumbled right to the back of the hut.

The look in his eyes was betrayed, he thought I was stopping.

I latched the doors (Mike hadn't even seen the latch I had taken him so much by surprise), and pulled the curtain across.

The curtain might blow in from the breeze, but people shouldn't be peeking into a beach hut with the curtain drawn in my opinion.

I turned to Mike but stopped as he tried to back away from me.

I was worried now that I had scared him or pushed him too far, so I sat on the narrow wooden bench.

"It's okay." I said quietly.

Mike just looked between me and the curtain, like he was planning to run for it.

'Shit.' I thought, 'I've fucked this up.'

I moved back on the bench, leaving the exit clear.

"Mike." he looked at the curtain. "Mike?" He looked at me.

"You can leave, but you need to put your shorts back on."

He just stared at me.

"Or you can come and lie on the bench and let me finish what I've started."

He blinked.

I held out my water.