Switch, Ch. 02

She nodded, her face showing no emotion yet. She just seemed generally curious.

"Next, a good Dominant cares about what is good for the submissive. It's a relationship, not transactional."

"Like the story you sent," she offered. "The guy had become as attached to her as she was to him." I nodded.

"Correct. It's not about a Dominant getting random pleasurable experiences from random people. A good Dominant seeks to feed into his or her submissive, to help him or her be a better person, and really seeks to know what is best for him or her. If you end up potentially in a relationship with a guy who fashions himself to be a Dominant but merely wants to tie you up and fuck you, then that is not what this is about."

I saw her blush a little. I continued.

"In many ways, it is a daily choice, sometimes minute-by-minute, to continue on with the chosen roles. There is a difference between being a Dominant and being a douche."

I paused again to check her expression. She seemed to be intent on absorbing it. She came out of her listening trance, slightly nodded at me that she understood, and continued to wait. I was feeling like a college lecturer on the subject. But then would a college lecturer say this?

"So while I could demand that you strip naked and bend over to be fucked, and you may actually want to comply, it is not based on a relationship that is truly D/s. It is a fantasy. And that may be what you and the other person want, and that is fine, but that isn't what we are talking about here. Not without a relationship underneath it all."

I could see the blush get to a deeper color.

"This is a lifestyle, usually. It means little choices of submission are as important as the big ones. For some it is a night to spice up a relationship -- tying hands to a bedpost, blindfolding with a tie, maybe losing a bet and having to serve the lover in a sexy outfit. And those things are ok, but they alone do not really touch on the actual D/s dynamic, one where the submissive is choosing based on trust to put himself or herself completely in the hands of another person."

I paused. "It moves from a sexy erotic fantasy to a moment of intoxication and a state of bliss."

Her eyes stayed locked on me. She didn't respond. Maybe she was shocked. Maybe she was digesting it all. I wasn't sure.

"So the question is, what do you want? Do you want to experience the real full submission? Or do you want to pretend to submit for a sexy erotic encounter? A night of roleplay? Do you want to find a man or woman to completely give control to or just a night of being tied up and blindfolded? Either answer is ok. It's just important to know the difference."

I let her sit silently and think. I stood up while she worked through that, pulled a bottle of white out of the fridge that I had been saving, poured two glasses and handed her one before returning to my seat.

As I sipped the wine, I heard her quietly speak, "I don't just want a fantasy."

Her eyes were actually not on me. Shame maybe? Admitting this deep dark desire?

I nodded as I put the glass down.

"Ok. Do you have a boyfriend? Girlfriend? A romantic partner of some sort?"

She ignored the girlfriend part. "I am somewhat dating a guy, but we aren't to the point of being an exclusive thing. He is, well I am just having . . . being intimate with him." She smiled for a moment, "you could call him my submissive."

I raised my eyebrows. She actually had just loosened up briefly. Maybe it was the fact that she admitting what she wanted had put her in the same ballpark with me. A small connection.

She almost giggled at my expression. "Oh I don't mean that really, I just mean that he seems to prefer me being in charge of things. He is kinda a beta male, I guess. It's not serious nor will it ever be."

"Does he know that?"

"Um, I am not sure, honestly. I was seriously looking for nothing more than sex, and he is hot, so we ended up in bed. But we don't have much going on outside of the bedroom, so I have written it off as potentially anything more than a diversion."

"So you enjoy being in charge in the bedroom?"

She paused for awhile, seemingly honestly reflecting. I took another sip.

"No, I mean the sex was good, but the fact that I was in charge really made it less fun. Like I had to take charge to keep things moving, but I really wanted him to do it. I wanted to feel his, well, his strength. Desire. Urgency. Something. But I wasn't. Does that make sense?"

I nodded.

"To be honest, Brent, I think that realization is what got me looking up local BDSM stuff, and how I found myself at that club meeting. I wanted to find someone that was not the guy I was with. I had been at that party for a total of ten minutes when I saw you. And ran away like a complete idiot."

She paused. "Are you in a relationship now? Was that blonde at the party your girlfriend?"

I smiled at her. "No. Well, she is really my best friend. We dated at one point."

"Is she into the whole BDSM thing too?"

"Very much so."

"She was so gorgeous. If you two are not together, then why was she on your arm? Surely some other guy would love to have her as like his, like, you know . . . " Amusingly she could not use the words completely yet.

"Well Steph and I go to those events together. We have a complicated relationship, but above all she is my best friend."

She nodded listening.

I continued. "She hasn't found anyone she respects and cares about enough to submit to."

"Except you."

I laughed. "Yes, but only a bit. She has not found a long term Dom yet. Which is a good lesson for you. She is picky."

"Maybe I should be talking to her instead of you." She smiled. I liked seeing her smile.

"Probably would not be a bad idea, honestly."

"No. She is way too beautiful and I doubt she could relate to me. Or I cannot relate to her, more like it. Like that video girl you sent."

"Yes, she is beautiful. But you do realize you are very pretty, right?""

She blushed a little again, "thanks for the kind words, but we know that you don't really think that."

"Obviously we do not know that. I don't say things to just say things, Caroline. I thought you would know that by now?" I responded a little sternly.

She sat silently, a little stunned, but then nodded her head. "Then thank you, Brent, for the compliment."

"So, what kind of relationship are you really seeking, Caroline?"

She looked at me, a little confused. "I am sorry. I don't know what you mean?"

"Well . . . " I shifted back into lecture mode, "some want the full BDSM -- bondage, masochism, with submission. This would probably result in pain and restrictions. Usually, the submissive would find pain comforting or pleasurable, as odd as that may sound." She watched me as I explained, listening carefully. She even leaned forward a bit as I kept going.

"Others like to be humiliated, one piece under the masochism category really. Put on display for others. Public humiliation -- nudity or bondage in front of others." Her eyes widened a bit as I ticked off the menu items.

"Others like to just give up control and submit to someone else's will, like the story I sent. It may involve being tied up at times or blindfolded, or it may involve being punished, like spanked lightly, but not for inflicting serious pain, and it may also involve just the submissive being pushed into doing things he or she does not want to do." She visibly nodded as she absorbed it all. Caroline was a very smart girl and her engaging temperament seemed to prove this.

"Some go further by enjoying being completely used as objects, or given sexually to other people by the Dom, graphically these persons can often be referred to as cumsluts. Then you also have a bit of roleplay, like Daddy Doms."

She remained quiet as I paused, maybe hoping the lecture would continue. Finally, she cleared her throat.

"I don't think pain and humiliation are my things. I am a little too old to have a Daddy . . . Dom?" She laughed as she air-quoted. "Although that might be one of those single nights of erotic roleplay." She giggled to herself as if she shouldn't even consider it, even if she likely was.

I just smiled and nodded, encouraging her to continue in her reflection.

"And being given to other people as a sex object is just gross and very much not appealing at all. I think I would rather feel more valued than that." Her face revealed that she really did find it repulsive. Steph would be agreeing whole-heartedly with that. Everyone has their kinks, so for those that that is enjoyable, so be it. But it goes against how I approach D/s.

She paused thoughtfully. "I like giving up control. Well the idea of it." Then she paused. "I think being punished can be . . . good. Just not welts and extreme bruises. Having boundaries and direction and some restriction might feel good? I don't know. I really don't know yet."

She took a sip of wine. "What does Stephanie like?"

She seemed to be very focused on Steph. I really should have the two of them sit down some time.

"What you described, really. She loves giving up control." I smiled for a moment, "she also likes to misbehave so that she gets disciplined a bit." I saw her curious look, "nothing serious, just a little bit of boundary pushing and resetting."

"And you?"

I smiled at her and tilted my head affirmatively.

"Hearing what you want, my advice remains the same. Be very picky. Use that dos and don'ts list as a filter." She nodded seriously.

We sat for a moment, sipping wine. She seemed deep in thought.

I really did need to introduce her to Steph. Steph had taken new submissives under her wing before, as kind of a mentor/ mentee thing. She was sweet and patient and very intuitive.

"Ok Caroline. So, do you want to take a small step forward on this? Experience a little in a non-threatening and reasonably harmless way?"

She paused again, her eyes going wide in shock. "You mean now?"

I nodded as I remained in my seat.

"How, um, how far would this go?"

"Part of this is to give up control, Caroline, so I am not going to tell you." She looked a little panicky again.

"You need to experience the unknown by trusting me. Feel what it is like to hand over the keys to someone else, as it were." I leaned forward, "I promise you that I will not hurt you and likely will not push you too far outside of what you would normally be comfortable doing. Just a bit maybe, if necessary." I smiled at her.

"It is just for this next little while you'd be giving up control." She nodded as she listened. "We do not have a close relationship and for you to really give up control would require more than a brief conversation, but I have your best interests at heart here and please know that you can leave whenever you like. No safe word is required at all."

"Safe word?"

"Well, if this was of the bondage variety, uttering an agreed upon safe word is used to let the Dominant know that the submissive wants to be let out of the situation. Nothing even remotely like that will be happening. This is just to give you context, a feeling of generally what it is like."

She hesitated, seemingly working through it all. Giving up control can be an unbelievably scary but also an exciting thing. She had been given some assurances -- an escape route, my promise to not do anything damaging or harmful. She also knew me a little bit. "Ok. Um then yes. I do."

"Ok, good. First thing, when addressing me, use 'sir' in your responses."

I watched her facial expressions. She revealed little to me, but then nodded her head, maybe even expecting it. Afterall, any display of this lifestyle in movies often depicted submissives using respectful addresses. 'Master' was a bit much for this toe-dipping-in-the-water evening.

"Now, please stand up for me."

She nodded. I raised my eyebrows. "Yes . . . sir," she added.

"Good girl." She reacted slightly to my use of the phrase, one that definitely placed me above her.

I stood and moved over to sit on the edge of the bed. "To start, you may kneel down here in front of me."

"What?"

I smiled at her and pointed down to the floor in front of me. "Are you choosing to give me control, Caroline?"

She looked conflicted. She actually started clenching her fists as her body went rigid. She nodded and knelt down, followed quietly by a "yes sir."

I looked at her for a moment, reached out with the palm of my hand and held her cheek, "thank you."

She seemed to blush a bit, even as she remained rigid at my feet.

I leaned forward, bringing my face closer to hers as I kept her cheek in the palm of my hands. "Now, if we had a bit more of a committed Dominant and submissive relationship, I would normally have you wear a lot less clothing. I find women's bodies to be especially lovely and enjoy seeing them as much as possible. And since I find you to be attractive, I think I would enjoy seeing that." I paused, watching her expression, the blush spreading across her face, maybe even in pleasure more than a bit of humiliation at the thought. "But tonight? Likely a bit too far."

I leaned back.

"Would you like to know what other things I would normally have you do?"

She nodded her head silently.

"Would you, Caroline?"

"Yes sir. I would." She said quietly.

"Well, in addition to being naked, you would serve me in whatever it is that I needed, massage me, sexually please me, but also in attending to my non-erotic needs as well. You would look for ways to make me happy. Much of your time would be devoted to my needs, anticipating them and responding to them. Your beautiful body on display, because it would make me happy."

Her mouth actually hung open just a little bit. I knew by making her kneel, I had made her tap her toe on the other side of the threshold. And with me listing things I would have done, she more likely would be internalizing this. At least I had hoped.

I was not trying to manipulate her. For me, I was feeling out her emotions with her. If she was truly interested in this, I wanted to see how a strong usually in-control woman would react. And watching her face work through my list just made me hornier, honestly.

I continued.

"And subsequently, I would be focused on your needs. I would know what is good for you, so I would push you in the right direction. Your nudity would not be only for me, but also for your own acceptance of how beautiful you are. And even further, you would not be hiding anything from me -- emotionally, physically. You would eat well and drink well, for me and for you."

She remained silent at my feet, the blush never leaving her face, but her eyes only half focused on my face as she digested my words.

"Schedules, required dress, or undress as it were, meal planning, all of these are to free you up to be happy and enjoy the other things. My need to control. Yours to be controlled. It's a yin and a yang. Understand?"

She nods

"Good. Now, we need to work out your punishment."

"My punishment?" My statement brought her out of her contemplative state, her voice rising a little at her question.

"You were ten minutes late to dinner last night. I would prefer to not be kept waiting." I paused for a moment, "and it should be 'my punishment, sir', right?"

"Sorry, sir." She looked like she wanted to say something else but was suppressing it.

"Good girl. I am thinking a spanking would work, likely five slaps would help you remember."

"You want to spank me?" To her credit, she remained on the floor.

"Do I want to? Yes, I most certainly do. But this actually has a bit more to do with you than me. You wanted to give up control. Me spanking you for not doing what you should have done, and you accepting it because you have handed control to me. This is what this is about."

I watched her face for a moment, "Something tells me you want to be spanked. The problem is, it feels wrong. You feel like as an empowered woman you should not accept this. But then that is just what you have been led to believe -- growing up, hearing others. That is misplaced pride dictating the rules for you. What is it that YOU want, Caroline? Do you want to be corrected? Do you want to be cared for? Cherished? Desired? What choice will you make, Caroline?"

She looked so conflicted kneeling on the floor in front of me, her eyes staring at nothing as she searched her feelings.

I didn't know which way she would go. It might prove to be one of those defining moments for her. The step across the threshold, as it were, instead of merely tapping with her toe, then running away.

She slowly stood and faced me. She then moved towards me and silently climbed across my lap.

She couldn't see my smile. Of course this brought me pleasure, but there was something wonderful about seeing a person come into their own.

"Five. Count out loud each one, please."

"Yes . . . sir."

Her sheath dress hugged her backside nicely. I had noticed her slender form before, so it was nice to see it now.

"Note, I would normally pull your skirt up, and maybe even your panties down, but tonight, we will forgo that."

And with that, I carefully placed the palm of my hand on the left cheek of her bottom. I gently rubbed, lightly, then raised my hand and slapped. She made a noise and quietly said, "one."

I did not spank hard by any stretch. I wasn't into pain, or humiliation, even if both of those played a small role here. This really was about submission to redirection. It was more emotionally impactful than anything physical.

I slapped a second time. "Two," she quietly said.

I massaged lightly again, and then slapped. "Three."

Another. "Four."

And finally, one more longer massage followed by a final slap. "Five."

She did not immediately get up but continued to lay across me. I took the implied invitation to massage her bottom.

Finally, she slowly rose from my lap, and then interestingly moved in front of me to return to a kneeling position.

I leaned forward, bringing my face closer to hers again. The expression on her face looked thoughtful. She didn't seem to be in pain, but rather a bit taken aback by what happened.

"Are you the type who processes things out loud with others or by yourself?"

She regarded me for a moment, then seemed to settle on an answer. "I think it depends on the situation."

"And what does this situation require of you?"

"I think a mixture of the two." I was starting to really appreciate her analytical mind. This had become fascinating to me.

I waited for her to continue, giving her some space to start when she felt ready.

"I . . . don't know you that well . . . but . . . I felt very connected just now." Her eyes moved down as she struggled to get it out.

I put my finger under her chin and raised it so that she was looking at me. "Eyes up here, Caroline. And you can say anything at this point."

She nodded. "Yes sir."

She continued, her eyes on mine. "I started off mad. Then, like, emotional. Then comfortable. Then mad that I felt comfortable. Then confused." She smirked at me. "So now I am at confused."

She sighed. "Part of me wants to run away. Another part wants this to never end." She looked pleadingly at me, "is this at all normal?"

"Yes." I nodded. "Conflicting emotions can be part of the start of it all. I am not into converting people to this lifestyle, but if someone genuinely feels drawn to it, then what you described feels about right."

She nodded and continued to look at me.

"And how does your bottom feel?"

She smiled, "warm but not in real pain. Might be a little bruised tomorrow. Don't know for sure. Will check it out a bit later." She smiled shyly at me.

I nodded.

"Caroline, please note that tomorrow you are the boss at the client's. This may be confusing, but I work for you."

She smiled, "So you are choosing to submit to me?"