The Switch Ch. 09

'No.'

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

It began the same way it did with Oliver; intense fear coupled with a disbelief anything was actually going to occur. A lack of comprehension that he was really going to free himself from the constraints of propriety, and take what he wanted from her.

That quickly changed. The second she realised he'd slipped into a different mode, she panicked. She couldn't do this again. What she hadn't told either Oliver or Val, or even admitted to herself, was that on Saturday night she'd hit a point where she'd genuinely believed she was going to die.

She kicked and clawed at him as he dragged her down the hallway. Who the hell was she kidding? She couldn't do this. She couldn't submit, not now, not this soon. She needed to regain her trust in him first. She needed to know he truly, and completely, loved her.

Just when she was about to stop things, he broke the moment for a split second. He caught her gaze and gave her a look of utter adoration. A grin flitted across his face. It was a small sign, but it was all she needed. The panic fled, and was replaced by a sense of amusement. So this was what got him off. This was how he got his kicks.

Well, fuck him. She was determined to have fun, too. She refused to feel the terror and uncertainty of Saturday night. She was going to participate, and she was going to make him fight hard for what he wanted.

Aimee stopped wildly flailing around, and grabbed at his arm. Her grip was firm, and her nails dug into his flesh.

'Fuck you,' she swore. 'Let me go you fucking piece of shit.'

'Not a goddamn chance.'

She spat in his face and aimed a kick at his balls. She missed his testicles, but he was under no illusions about what she'd been trying to do, and he promptly picked her up, threw her over his shoulder and took her into his room.

The fight didn't end there. Physically, he could easily overpower her, but undressing both himself and her was more cumbersome. He laid on her, using one hand to restrain her, as the other freed his cock. She wriggled over to the left and tried to make a dash for freedom, but before she could make it off the bed, he'd latched onto her leg and dragged her back.

'You're not going anywhere,' he smirked, as he yanked her pants down. 'You can't escape, Aimee.'

She kicked at him, and made contact with his face. Neither of them had expected that. His face darkened, and she laughed at his reaction.

'It's not going so well for you, is it?' she asked.

With a growl, he turned her onto her back and tried to part her legs. She felt the weight of him on her and took a deep breath. She hadn't realised how heavy he was until now. He was crushing her, and it was a struggle to breathe.

Her sex was exposed, and his cock was free, but they both had their pants around their thighs. Try as he might, he couldn't penetrate her. He reached down and yanked her jeans lower, and tried to spread her legs.

Aimee continued in her futile efforts to throw him off her. She knew he was eventually going to win, but she was determined to fight until the end. She felt his cock between her legs, trying to force entrance, and she scratched and clawed at his chest in an effort to dissuade him.

He grunted as he successfully penetrated her. She let out a gasp and started beating her hands against him.

'Get off, get off, get off,' she yelled.

He didn't respond as he started to thrust. He was still using his weight to help subdue her, and she struggled to breathe, but she didn't want to stop him. He was close to the end. The fight had been his foreplay. Every kick, every struggle, every whimper she'd made had been an aphrodisiac to him.

'You fucking pig,' Aimee sneered. 'Taking what you know I wouldn't give to you.'

Valery roughly clapped a hand over her mouth. His movements picked up speed, and he slammed into her without regard for her pleasure.

Aimee bit down on his fingers. He swore and yanked them out of her mouth. He grabbed a handful of hair, glared at her, and rammed his cock into her pussy. She tried to leverage her hands under his body so she could push him off, but he was too strong, and far too far gone. He was ready to cum.

'You piece of shit, I'll make you pay for this,' she swore angrily.

He cried out something unintelligible, clutched at her body, and came. She stopped fighting, and just lay there limply beneath him, gazing at the expression on his face. He was dripping with sweat, and whatever fantasy world he was in, it was one that he enjoyed being in.

He ground himself into her until he'd expelled the last of his cum, and his body had stopped shaking. Then, slowly and appreciatively, he bent down and kissed her.

She shut her eyes as she luxuriated in the feeling of his mouth on hers. Tasting him. Secure in the knowledge that he loved her just as much as she loved him. It was better than it had ever been before, because now, slowly, he was letting her in on his secrets.

Aimee opened her eyes. She realised one of his was swelling shut. Whoops. She must've kicked him pretty hard.

'I'm really sorry about this,' she apologised, gingerly touching his face. 'Should I get some ice?'

'Am I going to get a black eye?'

She grimaced. 'Probably. Sorry.'

He started to laugh. 'You put up a good fight. I wasn't expecting that.'

'Wasn't I supposed to?'

He leant down and kissed her again. 'You can do whatever you want. You were amazing. Thank-you for letting me do that. I hope I didn't scare you too much.'

'Nope.'

It was the truth. He hadn't scared her. She knew him well enough to have recognised the expression in his eyes when he first took hold of her. Maybe that was why she'd felt so scared with Oliver; she didn't know him well enough to know what he was truly like.

Aimee rolled him off her, and stood up. Her pants were bunched around her knees, and she took them off, and went to the bathroom to pee and tidy up. She could feel his seed leaking down her leg, and she used a handful of toilet paper to mop up the mess. It had been so long since she'd had unprotected sex that she'd entirely forgotten about that part.

She went to the kitchen, wrapped a handful of ice in a clean tea towel, and made her way back to the bedroom. Valery was lying on his back in bed, bottom half naked. His left eye was now entirely closed up and the skin was coloured an interesting shade of purple.

'So how are you going to explain that?' she asked, handing him the tea towel.

He pressed it against his face. 'I'll just tell everyone my vicious girlfriend kicked me during sex.'

'They won't believe you.'

'Probably not.' He put the tea towel down. 'How about you come and sit on my face?'

'So you can squint up at me with one eye while you try and make me cum?'

He shrugged. 'Why not?'

Why not indeed.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Ben was ecstatic that Valery was back in the picture. Bella was less happy to see Aimee. She was annoyed to find the woman at her father's house, and while she deigned to converse with Ben, she completely ignored Aimee.

On the third day, Ben asked Bella why she didn't like his Mum.

Valery inwardly groaned. This wasn't how he'd planned for it to happen. He'd tried to speak to Bella about Aimee, but every time he'd broached the subject, she'd put her headphones in and ignored him.

'Because she's mean to my Dad,' Bella replied.

'No, she's not,' Ben countered.

'She was,' Bella argued. 'Remember that day when we were under the sprinklers? She yelled at you, and my Dad.'

'That's because she'd just found out she had cancer,' Ben explained. 'She was scared. She told me. She's not mean, not very often, anyway. I promise.'

Bella mulled that over. Her gaze met Aimee's, and she eyed the older woman thoughtfully. 'Linda was a bitch to my Dad,' she said.

'I heard,' Aimee agreed cautiously. 'She was a bitch to me, too.'

Bella shook her head. 'You don't understand.'

'She made me cry,' Aimee pointed out.

'Really?'

'Really.'

Bella returned to her dinner. 'Well, just so you know, I'll forgive you this time, but not if it happens again.'

Valery cleared his throat. 'Bella?'

'What?'

'I promised you that if Aimee was mean, I'd leave straight away. She wasn't 'mean' that day, just upset. I know it can be hard to tell what people are reacting to, but I can promise you, she's not mean.'

Bella sighed. 'Whatever.'

But slowly, the girl came around. She warmed up to Aimee a little more with each passing day. By the time the next weekend rolled around - Bella's last, for several months - they actually managed to have a conversation. The conversation took place at Valery's parent's house, with his mother looking on approvingly.

Val was relieved. He'd felt an incredible amount of pressure, both over Aimee returning to his arms, and Bella sorting out her feelings over Aimee's behaviour on the day she found out she had cancer. His family had just been blunt; they were happy to see that he and his girlfriend were back together, and they expected Val to do everything in his power to keep the relationship going.

As he looked on, Ben tugged impatiently on Valery's hand.

'Can we go swimming yet?' the boy inquired.

It was far too cold for any reasonable person to want to go swimming, but Ben was a child and, ergo, not reasonable. His forehead crinkled as she looked outside. The sky was grey and the weather was dismal.

'Please?' Bella prodded. 'Val, you promised.'

Roza's three children, who were also here, chimed in, adding that they, too, would like to go swimming.

Valery held his hands up. 'Fine. I'll take you all swimming.'

It was that frigid that he knew his balls would soon become earrings. Nonetheless, he got changed and went outside to the pool. The kids jumped in the second they saw him coming, and he was splashed with drops of freezing liquid. He was inane. He was certifiably fucking insane.

'Having fun?' Roza asked.

He responded to her in Chechen, in the hopes that none of the kids would understand. He'd forgotten that hers did, and that they'd also taught Ben and Bella all the swear words. All five kids immediately picked up on his bad language.

Val dived under the water and swam to the other end, both to ignore everyone's comments, and to try and warm up. When he poked his head up at the other end, they were still going, and he was still ridiculously cold, so he swam back to the other end.

Aimee and Roze were hanging over the pool gate, chatting about something. Roza pulled her phone from her pocket and started showing Aimee a few pictures. Val's gut churned.

'What are you showing her?' he demanded.

'Photos of you as a woman,' Roza replied.

'Seriously?' he asked. 'Oh fuck.'

Aimee grinned. 'I've seen pictures before, just not these ones. You look good. Keep it up, and I might give lesbianism a shot for a night.'

He shook his head, aware of the blush that was creeping up his neck. 'Sure, sure.'

'Oh, I'm not joking,' she assured him.

The expression on her face assured him she wasn't. Oh, he thought to himself. Oh. He'd been an idiot. He should have trusted her more.

~~~~~~~~~~~~

Aimee carefully tightened and fastened the collar around Val's neck. She glanced up at him and smiled. He grinned back, and pretended to bite her hand.

'Bad dog,' she giggled. 'Get out of the car. You better behave, otherwise Samara's going to get cranky with me.'

He adjusted the collar and opened the car door. 'No. It'll be me she'll get cranky with.'

'Are you scared?'

'Of Samara? Not with you around. I'm sure you'll protect me.'

Kyle and Samara lived in a beautiful Queenslander on a massive farm. They parked out the front and walked towards the house. The sun was setting, and there were fields as far as the eye could see. Beyond that were blue-grey mountains. Aimee stood still, inhaled the fresh air, and looked around in wonder. It was the most incredible place. She couldn't imagine how amazing it would be to live and work here.

Kyle met them at the front door. He was wearing jeans and a button down checked shirt, and it took Aimee, who'd only ever seen him in leather, a minute or two to recognise him.

'You look like a farmer,' she remarked in surprise.

He laughed. His skin was suntanned, and his eyes crinkled at the corners. 'Everyone says that. I tried to avoid it for as long as I could, but it caught up with me in the end. Come in.'

It was odd to hear him engage in regular conversation, and see him in regular clothes. He looked so normal she would never have guessed what kinks he had. She wondered if Samara would be more relaxed at home, too, but when she went inside, Samara was as decadently dressed as she had been the other two times she'd seen her.

'Dinner's almost ready,' Samara said. 'Take a seat. I hate people interfering. That includes you, Valery, sit down right now before you anger me.'

Aimee was awestruck. The three of them sat down in the living room and waited for Samara to finish. When Samara was ready, she called them all over and they sat.

'It's all halal,' Samara told Val. 'I remembered.'

He nodded his head in appreciation. 'Thanks Sam.'

A faint twinge of jealousy plucked at Aimee's stomach. She looked from Val to Samara and back again. They would have made a handsome couple. Aimee was nowhere near as pretty as her host, and although she'd felt adequately dressed when she left home, she now felt like a silly high school girl trying to impress her boyfriend.

'I presume you're a normal person who doesn't follow the mad ramblings of middle eastern schizophrenics?' Samara asked Aimee.

Aimee relaxed. 'Yep.'

'Good.' Samara placed a plate in front of Aimee. 'I did an excellent job picking you.'

'Was it you that picked me?' Aimee asked curiously.

Samara's brow furrowed. 'Didn't you know?'

'No,' Aimee replied. 'I knew it was a friend of Val's who chose me, but I assumed it was Oliver.'

At the mention of Oliver's name, Val's face twitched. Kyle poured everyone drinks, and they settled down to eat. It was nice food, and the mood was comfortable. They talked about work and kids and life. It was all very tame until Samara piped up and asked if they'd heard about Linda.

'What about her?' Val asked cautiously.

Samara set her knife and fork down. 'Can you remember the open invitation night you catered? The one you took Aimee long to?'

Val nodded. 'Sure.'

'A newbie showed up. Came from Brisbane. He was petrified of being recognised, so he thought if he travelled a few hours from home he'd be safe. He was a sub, and extremely anxious about the whole thing, but he'd heard there's some other submissive men that hang around the group, so he thought he might fit in.' Samara explained. 'The first person he runs into is Linda, who demands to know what he's doing there. He tells her he just wants to meet some like-minded people.'

'What did she say to him?' Aimee asked curiously.

'She looked him up and down and told him that this particular group expects a certain standard of dress, income and personality, and he'd be better off finding another group,' Samara said.

Valery rolled his eyes. 'Sounds like Linda. What did he do?'

'What do you think he did?' Samara inquired archly. 'He hightailed it out of there. Apparently Vaughn overheard part of the conversation, and he mentioned it to Miles, who in turn questioned Linda. Linda swore blind that Vaughn misunderstood. Nobody thought anything of it until a few weeks ago, when Miles announces online that he's holding another open invitation night.

In one of the groups for submissive men, they start talking about it. The boy who got chewed out by Linda posts something along the lines of 'they're all very upper class and don't like tradesmen, so keep that in mind if you're not someone who wears a suit every day'. Long story short, Miles finds out about this and contacts the guy. Miles realises Linda was out of line, contacts her, and tells her not to bother showing her face again. Her strike one was with Aimee. Strike two was with this guy. Miles doesn't let it get to three strikes.'

'Hallelujah,' Aimee muttered.

'I'll say,' Samara agreed. 'She can go back to Catrin's group, where getting to be a snob is apparently part of the appeal. I've promised Miles I'll contact the boy this week and see if he wants to come back. He seems legit.'

'Do you want me to do it?' Val asked.

Samara nodded. 'Actually, I wouldn't mind if you did. I don't want him getting the wrong idea. He seems genuine, but you never know.'

Dinner was finished and dessert was served. It was sticky date pudding. Aimee thought it tasted remarkably like Val's, and asked if it was the same recipe.

'It is,' Samara said.

'I made this at Miles' New Year's party and nobody wanted any,' Val said. 'Warren actually said 'why would I want pudding?' and I said 'because it tastes good'. He rolled his eyes at me, so I decided to take Aimee home, and leave them to make their own bloody dessert.'

'From what I hear, nobody had dessert because you two put on a nice little sex show in the kitchen,' Samara remarked.

There was a minute's silence. Aimee didn't know what Val was thinking, but she knew she was running over exactly what she and her lover had done with each other. From the outside, it wouldn't have looked pretty. It was sex designed to get each other off, not appeal to an audience.

Val went pale. 'Oh shit,' he swore.

'Forget the house was wired up?' Samara asked him.

He nodded, and turned to his girlfriend. 'Sorry Aimee.'

Aimee wanted to crawl under the table and die of embarrassment. 'Did everyone there watch us?'

'Of course they did,' Samara replied matter-of-factly. 'Why wouldn't they? From what I heard, the night descended into an orgy. I can't believe neither of you realised, particularly you, Val. You really are thick at times.'

Valery shrugged. 'At least they didn't hate my cooking.'

'You'd rather people watch you have sex than think you're a bad cook?' Aimee asked incredulously.

He shrugged. 'Sure.'

After they'd finished eating, they sat on the back deck and continued to drink. Valery pulled out a bag of weed and rolled a few joints. Aimee took one. Samara shook her head at him and gave him a 'surely you know better?' look. Kyle hesitated.

Samara looked to her boy and sighed. 'Just take it.'

Val, Kyle and Aimee smoked. Samara sipped her glass of water and waited patiently for them, with the aura of a schoolteacher in charge of a sea of naughty pupils. Frankly, Aimee found her mesmerising. There was something so innately confident about the other woman. She was in charge, even when she wasn't trying to be.

'Do you ever relax?' Aimee asked her.

Samara's brow furrowed. 'What do you mean?'

'You always seem guarded,' Aimee explained, stoned enough to be honest. 'Like you don't let the real 'you' show. Do you ever wear jeans? Or just walk away and ask Kyle to deal with stuff for a while?'

Samara laughed, as if she found the question genuinely interesting. 'Of course. You've only met me three times. Give it time and you'll see how fallible I am.'

Aimee doubted it.

'Kyle, Val, go inside and wash up,' Samara instructed. 'Give me a moment with Aimee.'

Aimee stared at the night sky as the men went inside. This wasn't an entirely casual dinner date. Valery wanted her to take control in the bedroom. She wished she could, but every time she tried, she panicked. She was scared she'd hurt him.

Aimee wasn't someone who naturally commanded respect. Samara did, because she looked the part. She was the stereotypical woman-in-charge, and she was successful in her own right. She didn't work in child care. She didn't live in a shitty little apartment. She didn't have red hair or freckles, two things that a sufficient number of men had commented negatively about for her to know that they weren't considered attractive.