Switching at KinkCon

We saw more stairs opposite and continued on our way. Some small rooms were tucked off the landings - toilets, one with showers, one a medical room setup with sign-up sheet on the door. John and Cathy both shook their heads slightly and ignored that room; I wondered if someone else might be interested in exploring it with me. The top floor consisted of a square balcony on one end, more of a gallery running round all four sides of a huge skylight, through which you could blurrily see the dance floor, and a giant attic room. Here was what I came here for: at least twenty pieces of sturdy, well-maintained BDSM equipment, with a decent amount of space between them, and generous amounts of seating and tables of water, condoms, lube and nitrile gloves as well as food. The room wasn't yet at capacity.

"Bend over that bench, Karen - I'll tighten your corset for you." John grinned at me - he loved showing off his strength by pulling strings tighter than most people could manage. He wasn't knocking the view of me bent over, either.

"Oof!"

"Can you manage a bit more? How about the top end?"

"Give it a go. But best leave it in the middle, I think."

"If you insist. Don't want you fainting on us and missing all the fun!" He winked, lasciviously. Then glanced up at Cathy, and his face settled back to passive.

With that, Cathy and John excused themselves - I had a promise from John for some of his time later - so I snatched a cookie and wandered back downstairs to find a drink.

By the time I'd got through the crowds with the same idea, greeted a dozen people I knew and been introduced to a similar number I didn't, acquired an adequate glass of red and extracted myself from the kitchen, I saw some friends gathering on the large, empty landing.

"What's going on, Gareth?"

"Hey, Karen! Setting up a wax play party - hence the newspaper on the floor. We've got these pots of wax melting nicely in the electric food warmers, then there's loads of pipettes and spoons for people to have at."

"No candles?"

"They wouldn't allow flames up here. They take ages to get to melting, too."

"I think this one's ready. Anyone want to try?"

The woman I didn't know grinned as Gareth opened his shirt and dared her to cover his nipples. She squirted red wax from a few inches away, and he squealed.

"I've got white here - fancy some on that stunning décolletage, Karen?

"Flattery will get you everywhere. Go for it."

The hot splashes were startling, but immediately faded to pleasantly warm.

"It might be more fun slightly lower..."

"Not on the damask!" I pretended to misunderstand.

"No, not on the corset! I'd just like to lift your breasts out a bit... Seeing as they're begging to fall out anyway..." I let him pull my nipples up and out from behind the protective barrier. I squeaked as the wax felt much hotter on them.

"Awww... No harm done, not from this stuff. Can I add some more layers?" He used a spoon to make a nice mould of my tits. When it was solid, he pulled it off, but it crumbled into fragments. I grabbed a pipette and squirted more wax onto his delicate skin under his arm in revenge.

"Mmm..."

About eight people were having fun putting wax onto others' sensitive areas and peeling it off. It was fun, making patterns and causing mild pain reactions, but I wanted a more intimate, one-on-one, connection. Gareth might be up for that later, but not yet, he said.

So I flicked off the last of the wax, admired the slight red patterns from where it had been, tucked my nipples back in, and went to see who was in the lounge.

Mary, Alice... And, slumped back on a sofa with space next to him, was John.

Cathy, on a separate armchair, waved as I seated myself by John. My short skirt rode up as I did so, but compared to the folk wearing much less - or exposing much more, in the case of arseless or crotchless trousers - I felt positively demure. Cathy wandered off, after planting a kiss on John's forehead. "You can have him to yourself for a while. See ya soon."

"How you doing, dear?"

"Mm. Very well, thank you. Just chilling for a few minutes after all that..." He gestured in the air, making a wide circle.

"Fancy playing? After you've got your breath, obviously." It was a formality, really - he'd made a promise, and I'd never known him to turn any of his regular partners down.

There was a pause. Maybe he hadn't heard.

I repeated the question.

"Er... I don't know... Eh..." He looked awkward. "Not really."

I tried to hide my disappointment and shock. I failed. "Huh?"

"Well. Just... You don't want..." He was looking somewhere past my elbow.

My stomach froze. Was there some reason he no longer wanted to play with me? Had I offended him earlier? "I'm sorry. What's up?"

He glanced at my face, startled. "What? No! Nothing to do with you..." The clichéd 'it's me' was implied. He sucked in a deep breath. "It's just..."

I tried to arrange my face to look sympathetic, so he would tell me what the hell was going on. "Mmm?"

John snuggled up against me, partly affectionate, part I guessed was so that he didn't have to look at me. "Thing is, right... I'm just... Look, OK, I'm just feeling really, really subby tonight..."

Oh!

I couldn't truthfully say I didn't want him dominating me. On the other hand, he had been most attractive submitting to Cathy earlier... The thought of me topping him or having him submit to me had never crossed my mind before. But suddenly, now, it did.

And I was thinking really quite hard and seriously about it.

"OK. Is that a problem?"

Confused, John replied, "Well, yes..." Another long pause, as we stared at each other. "You don't top."

Now there was a feed line if ever there was one. "Don't I?"

"But... I've never seen you... You... Really, I thought... I mean..."

I took pity on the stuttering and gibbering. "I'm not saying I do it much, and I'm not the most experienced expert top out there, and not saying that I can do a stern domme... But I can top. And, you'd be quite fun to top with. Yeah? You want?"

For once, John's brain moved slowly. His ideas were almost visible, clunking through his head. After a minute or two, he met my eyes with a shy smile, and nodded.

I was grateful for the time he'd given me to think. It meant I came across as self-assured when I reached a forefinger under his chin, pulling it up, and told him, "Go fetch me a drink, and we'll discuss it."

He pushed himself up to standing. "What would you like, m... L... Ma'am?" Running through potential honorifics to find one that felt comfortable. I liked that.

"Red... Actually, no. A cup of tea, I think. Milk-no-sugar. Off you trot."

I watched him walk into the kitchen, following the elegant movement of his arse and legs until he sidled through the door. I had a couple minutes now to consider how to lead the conversation and to decide what I might want to do with the boy. He might be nearing forty, but his lithe body and constant energy, plus the fact he was now my plaything, made me think of him as a youth.

Soon, John knelt before me and proffered a steaming mug. Ah, tea. I drank a bit and returned it to his hands, in lieu of a table. After a bit more, while he remained silent, I informed him, "Right. Let's find a quieter spot and talk about what makes you tick."

He'd taken time slowly drilling down into my desires, several years ago now. I could do the same for him.

"Yes, ma'am. Er... is that OK?"

"Ma'am? It's good enough for the Queen; it's good enough for me. OK, my boy?"

He made tiny nods. He was content to be my boy for a while.

We went up the stairs. The balcony overlooking the dance area - more of a corridor alongside each edge of a huge skylight in the floor - was deserted. I pulled him to sit down on the scratchy nylon tile beside me. No atmosphere, what with the cheap white emulsion walls, harsh strip lights and fuzzy impressions of disco lights coming through the skylight, but that wasn't important. John's mind was.

He sat with his legs straight out in front of him. I placed my hand on his thigh and squeezed it possessively, more for fun than to indicate dominance, but that was another benefit. I recalled the first time we'd played, about seven years before, where he'd wrestled me underneath him and demanded I tell him what I wanted. I turned to meet his eyes. "So, my boy. You're feeling subby. I need to know more. What do you want?"

He lowered his gaze, remembering the same conversation. I reached round and pulled his head back to face mine, holding him in place with my arm. "And what do you need?"

He breathed out, almost a sigh. His usual confidence seemed to go out with it. He let his head rest against me and muttered, "Need... to be controlled."

I waited for some clarification. As I was pondering what to ask next, he continued, quietly, "Forced to be obedient. Tied up, restrained, punished..."

"Punished for what?"

"Oh, not for anything." An ironic giggle. "Just needing it anyway. Because it's good for me. Teaching patience, bearing pain..."

I sort of understood. I was worried when he mentioned punishment - I can't bring myself to do the psychological insults of doms who tell subs they are bad or inadequate people. But this kind of discipline - I could do that.

"Discipline. Meaning, 'to teach'. Yes, you do need that. Can't have your libido running wild..."

He nodded. "Yes..."

Now I knew what I was aiming for, it was time for the important questions. "What else do I need to know? Any medical issues? Places not to touch, words not to use? What's off-limits?"

He knew the drill. "No medical problems at all. My joints do bend more than most people's, but don't force them. You don't get to touch anywhere here," - he gestured to his crotch - "and no-one else sees me without my underpants. They're scanty enough, they'll still get to see practically all of my arse..."

"Gotcha." He'd left a loophole; I was going to push that. "You mean, I could look at your crack in private? Touch it, even?"

His cheek felt hot suddenly against mine. "If you wish."

If he was that embarrassed, hell yes, I would be getting his briefs down the minute we found a private space!

"And no making me come. Not allowed..."

"Sure. Though if your cage stays in place, that's covered, surely?"

"You'd think. No, chastity devices can't stop you completely from coming, just prevent you from getting hard. Me, rather..."

"Uh-huh. So you could come even when your cock is straining painfully against the metal, unable to get any larger? Mm-hm... Do you enjoy that? Also, what do I need to not do, to make sure you don't?"

He considered. "Magic wands force orgasms, like it or not... you know that... Um... don't milk my prostate, I guess, be gentle if you play with it... that's about it..."

I'd never tried forcing ejaculation like that, and didn't plan to. My Hitachi was back at the hotel, ready for use after the club. I was sure I'd be desperate for it by then!

"Apart from that, have at." He shrugged. "You know about avoiding kidneys and all. Oh, no marks that can't be hidden by a T-shirt - love-bites below the neck only..."

"Sure. What sorts of sensations are good or bad for you?"

"Sharp stinging is always good. Any hitting, basically. Nails, scraping, clenching are a bit tough. More your thing, that, isn't it? But basically anything in my toy bag or yours, go for it."

How could I refuse such an invitation!

"You've been caned on your arse already tonight. How much more could you take there?"

A hollow laugh. "More than you might think. Maybe not a heavy cane on top of those lines, but crossing them and paddling and such... I could cope with that, if you wanted me to..." I could feel him clenching his bum in anticipation. "Don't worry about a little blood... I know, you will anyway..."

More to knock him off balance than because I had any intention of drawing any blood, I retorted, "I don't worry about blood. Medical training, remember? I've got swabs and antiseptic if we need it. Not a problem. Anyway, you: are you good at communicating once you're all blissed out in subbyland? Or what do I need to do?"

He considered. "I can say 'safeword', red, amber, green, all that, but I don't, really. Once you've got me restrained comfortably, it's always the top who has enough first..."

"Is that right? So when Cathy whacked you to tears earlier, with you all shaking and unable to speak, you could have taken more, is that what you're saying?"

I expected an admission that that was bravado.

"Mm. Not much more, but yeah. I could. Beaten to tears, that's where I need to be." He snuggled up to me more. "Don't worry, if you can't bring yourself to do the whole journey. Tops have limits too! Cathy can finish getting me there tomorrow - later tonight, even..."

He was being polite, but there was a wistful look on his face I'd never seen before. I wasn't going to promise anything, but I vowed to give him what he needed if I possibly could. "We'll see. Right. Help me up. Now, take this mug back and come back here with your toy bag and mine. Quick, now."

He obeyed. I saw him off with a squeeze of his arse. I didn't feel his plug. Maybe Cathy had removed it when they got changed. Hmm...

While he was downstairs, I wandered around the bare white gallery. A door labelled Staff Only begged to be opened - given the shape of the building there couldn't be much behind it. I expected a cupboard. It turned out to be a roomy toilet, doubling up as storage for mops and buckets. The sort of space that would be an accessible loo, if it weren't up sixty stairs. Or, given some ridiculous buildings, even despite that.

"Ah, you're back. I've found us a private space." I reached up to a ring on his collar and led him by one finger into the small room, locking the door behind us. I eyed him up and down, saying nothing. John stood silently, watching me. He began to look both nervous and expectant. Good.

"Turn to face the other way. Pull your pants down, below your knees."

He turned to the wall; I sat comfortably on the toilet lid. A pause, then he tugged down his leggings and underpants, crouching to push them down over his boots, and returned to standing. Suddenly, it was crystal clear who was being the domme and who was submitting to her. I stood behind him to fondle that arse and his thighs.

"Hands behind your head."

"Oh! Mmm..."

There were purplish welts and red marks on his pale bottom, but he was right that there was potential for more, with a bit of care. I resisted the temptation to reach between his legs to play with that soft dusky skin under his balls - limits are limits. I contented myself with clenching some flesh on his inner thighs - so smooth and unmarked, they just demanded some claw marks - and ran a finger up his bum-crack.

So sensitive. A small gasp. A few soft hairs. A cute hole retreating from my fingertip. And unplugged.

"Yeah, Cathy removed it when we got back to the hotel. I'm squeaky clean there."

"You mean, she cleaned you out, until you squeaked?"

He didn't deny it. I didn't want to kneel, with the corset restricting my movements, so I licked a finger and circled it round his opening. He purred.

"Feeling empty?"

"Yeah. You got a cock to fuck me?" Way too chipper, he was. I'd do something about that, in my own time.

"Yeah. I do." I left him and rummaged in my bag. "See?"

"Oh... kay... That's a dick, all right..." It was a long, lilac, silicone number. Its girth is substantial, more than my thumb and forefinger can get round. The intimidating size is countered by a cute heart-shaped flange, and a smiley face in the ridges of its head. Though some find that creepy rather than reassuring...

"Do you think you can take it?" I'd only ever used it in my vagina. Or my girlfriend's, but the wide flange meant it would be safe enough for anal use, if someone managed to get it in.

"We've got lube. I know I can, sweetie."

"Good." I tugged a condom over the thing, and passed it and a tube of his lube to him. "Because I want to see you fuck yourself on it."

He stilled. I sat back down. After a moment, he began methodically coating the cock in lube, then applying more to his arsehole. I watched as he pushed two fingers inside himself, squatting slightly, showing off his thigh muscles. Then he passed the lube back to me without making eye contact, and returned to facing the wall.

He moved his legs further apart, his boots setting them off nicely, the pile of clothing constraining his ankles merely underlining what a filthy thing he was doing. There's something about seeing the inside of someone else's pants, all damp where filthy thoughts have made them moist, that makes me moist too... He rolled the tip of the dildo round his hole, as if gaining an idea of its size, then began to push.

He lowered himself slightly onto it, and his arsehole happily stretched round its tip. He bobbed up and down gently, his inner thighs mesmerising me, as he forced more of the outsize cock into himself, inch following inch. Like a ballet dancer, holding the barre and practising pliés. It didn't take long before only the purple heart was visible, bent between his arse cheeks. He was breathing deeply. He was gorgeous.

As he pulled most of the length out of himself so he could thrust it back in, I murmured, "I wish I could video this!"

John didn't stop what he was doing, but called back, "Use my phone. Side pocket of my bag."

I found the phone, and passed it to him to unlock - both fingerprint and code - and to bring up the video function. He clenched his arse to hold the cock in place while he did so, which was beautiful. "Here. Just press there to start and to finish. It's all encrypted to..." blah gibberish blah... "standards."

I didn't need to understand the detail - data encryption was John's specialist subject. This video wouldn't end up anywhere he didn't want. Pointing the phone at his backside, I pressed Record, zooming in on his tightened hole, then pulling back to include his marked arse, and then his whole body, holding a towel rail with one hand to keep his balance, the other coming back to hold the cock again, head bowed as he crouched in his high-heeled boots.

"Go on," I told him. "Fuck yourself."

He let the cock slide out, pushed it in again, and slid it slowly back and forth for half its length, repeatedly. A satisfied "Aaah..." came from him.

"You're teasing. Fuck yourself. Hard, slut boy."

A small nod. He sped up his hand movement, then started lengthening his strokes, then adding a small twist.

My cunt was watering, just watching him. I rested the phone on the basin, to keep it steady.

Having pulled almost all of my cock out of his arse, he shoved it in again, hard. He moaned with pleasure. So did I.

Out, and in. His arm didn't seem to be getting tired or slowing, but his groan on every stroke proved he was hitting the spot. The moans began to suggest a hint of pain. That wasn't necessarily a bad thing - he'd be getting a lot more pain, soon, but of course he was still wearing his steel chastity device over his cock, preventing him from swelling or getting hard. He must be really feeling it, now. Time to be cautious.

"Stop." I reached forward and pulled my cock out of him. It squelched. My other hand brought the phone forward to focus on his contracting arsehole, and I pressed Stop. I flicked the condom into the bin - he was right, his bum had been squeaky clean inside - and put the dildo back in my bag. I handed his phone back to him. "At ease," I confirmed that he could move and relax. He glanced at the final shot, grinned, locked the screen and put it away.

Then he looked at me expectantly. Like a red setter, finally trained to be obedient, but it sure as hell hadn't come naturally! I told him to pull up his pants and leggings himself. I wasn't going to bend down if I didn't have to.