Turnabout is Fair Play

Ginny stared at him. She picked up the glass and put it down. "Tom. Sir. I know we're playing but I really need to pee. I'll wet myself. This isn't fun for me. You have to let me go."

Tom shrugged, although his heart sank. This was not how he had expected, or wanted, this battle of wills to turn out. "Just say it, Ginny. Say the safe word."

"Napoleon," she hissed.

Tom nodded. "The ladies room is just behind you. Go."

Ginny practically threw herself out of the booth, but Tom got a brief glimpse of her face. She looked upset, which he had expected, but also furious.

She was gone for a long time. Tom ordered coffee and paid the bill. When she finally came back she did not sit down. "I didn't make it," she said. "I wet myself and I threw out my panties."

Tom was surprised by his sudden arousal. "I'll have to punish you for losing control," he said. "And for walking around a town where decent people live without anything on under your skirt."

Ginny shook her head. "Napoleon," she said. "I don't want to play any more. I just want to go back to the hotel."

"Of course, Sweetie," Tom said. He stood up and reached for her hand but she pulled away from him. She walked to the hotel without saying anything to him.

When they got to the room, Ginny said, "I'm going to take a shower." She walked into the bathroom and shut and locked the door.

Tom took out his computer and tried to do some work, but when Ginny hadn't come out half an hour later he knocked on the bathroom door. "Sweetie, are you okay?"

Ginny opened the door. Her hair was wet. She had put her clothes back on, except for her shoes. She walked over to her suitcase and pulled out some panties and put them on. Then she turned to face Tom. "Why did you do that?" she said. "We never talked about any kind of fetish like that."

"I needed to teach you to use the safe word, Ginny," Tom said. "I need to know that I can trust you to use it when you're at your limit."

"Then why did you stop spanking me last night?" Ginny said. "You could have kept going. You always stop." Ginny glared at him. "You stop too soon because you think I'm weak and then you blame me for that."

"I don't think you're weak. You're one of the strongest people I know. But I don't want to hurt you."

"Right," Ginny said. "You don't want to hurt me and you decide what hurts and then you're mad at me because I didn't make the same decision you did."

Tom felt flustered, which was unpleasant for him. "Hurt isn't the right word, then," he said. "I don't want to injure you."

"And what makes you think I won't stop you before that happens?" Tom could see tears forming in Ginny's eyes, but he didn't know whether they were caused by her anger, or frustration, or something else.

But suddenly he knew how he was feeling. Pure, unadulterated anger. "Because you don't!" he said. "You let people hurt you all the time! Your ex-husband, and your sister, and your kids, and your boss. You never stand up for yourself. You never say no." He had been yelling. He took a breath. "And I can't stand it," he said more quietly.

When he looked at Ginny there was loathing in her eyes. "You're criticizing my parenting skills? And my work ethic?" she asked incredulously.

At first Tom didn't know what to say, but then he decided on the truth. "Yes," he said. "You give too much of yourself away."

The tears slid down Ginny's face, and the tip of her nose was red. Her voice was low and bitter. "I give too much of myself away to you," she said. "When I tell you about my life, that's my gift to you. And you spit on it! I don't need your judgmental crap!" She glared at him. "And another thing - do you really think I don't know about the dig at Troy? Or about -- about -" She swiped at her eyes with the back of her hands. "—that I'm completely ignorant about art? I've never wanted to safeword so much as when you wouldn't shut up at that museum!"

"Then you should have!" Tom forced himself to lower his voice. "You should have used it if you were unhappy. You should have used it if you needed to use the bathroom, long before you did. How else am I supposed to know?" He tried not to glare at her.

"Those are two entirely different things," Ginny said. She was not yelling now. "My safeword will not stop you from being a know-it-all who assumes that I'm ignorant just because there's something I haven't listed as being in my book of knowledge. That's on you. You need to change, because you can be utterly unbearable."

They glared at each other. Tom fought to master his emotions. He took a deep breath. "I'm sorry," he said. "I'll try."

His words seemed to make Ginny's anger whoosh out of her, but she was still crying. She looked down. Tom wanted to reach out to her, but he knew he had to give her her space to work this through. She sat on the bed and looked up at him. "I should have safeworded earlier," she said. "You not letting me pee was kind of fun at first, and it was turning me on. But I should have safeworded when it stopped being fun, or at least when it started being awful."

"Thank you," Tom said. Or at least that's what he meant to say, but the words had come out as, "I love you."

It took both of them a moment to register that he had said that.

"I do," he said. "I love you."

Ginny seemed to deflate. Tom knew that this was supposed to be disappointing to him, even devastating. But he counseled himself patience, and waited for Ginny to speak.

"I can't," she said. "This was only supposed to be fun. I can't give you that."

"Give me what, Ginny?"

"I can't give you my heart. I don't have room for that in my life. And we both know that's why you were so angry a moment ago - because I - you think I give too much to everyone else and not enough to you."

"You gave me this weekend," Tom said.

Ginny nodded.

"You probably had to work really hard to make that happen."

Another nod.

"I think you did that because you like spending time with me."

"You're a gift I give to myself," Ginny said. She added, "Master."

"I think you like me, even though I drive you a little nuts," Tom said, feeling hopeful.

"I like roleplaying with you," Ginny said. "I like being submissive to you. I like having sex."

"And it's nothing personal," Tom said helpfully. "I just happen to be where you landed. I could be anyone."

Ginny shrugged. Tom waited.

"I do like you," Ginny said. "I mean, when you're not talking down to me."

Tom waited some more.

"But I could never let myself love you," she said, "because you talk down to me all the time. You do that because you don't respect me and you don't trust me." She looked him in the eye. "Do you?"

"I do," Tom said. "I respect how hard you work, and how you've rebuilt your life after your marriage, and how smart you are. I just don't know how to express it all the time. Sometimes I get it wrong. And of course I trust you."

Ginny didn't respond for a minute, apparently lost in thought. Then she nodded. "Then prove it," she said. "Switch roles with me."

It took Tom a moment to understand what she meant. "You want me to be your submissive?" he asked, almost incredulously.

Ginny nodded. "For the rest of the day."

"I thought you only fantasized about being dominated, not doing it yourself." He tried not to sound accusing.

"I don't think you have any idea how much courage it takes to submit," Ginny said. "To trust you to take care of me." She let that sink in. "Yes, in my fantasies I'm a submissive, but you want to take this to real life. In real life, I take care of people, and you need to show me that you believe I can take care of you."

"But, Sweetie, you don't have to. I love taking care of you."

Ginny crossed her arms. "Then we'll keep things as they are. Just fun, no love."

Tom swallowed. "I've never taken the submissive role before," he said, "and you've never dominated anyone."

"It's up to you," Ginny said. But Tom knew that it wasn't. He could cross this threshold, and prove to Ginny everything that she needed him to prove to her, or they would fizzle out. It's not like Ginny wouldn't be able to find someone to play with closer to where she lived. He fought down jealousy.

"Okay," he said. "What do you want me to do?"

"What do you want me to do, Mistress?"

"What do you want me to do, Mistress?"

"I shouldn't have to tell you to get down on your knees if you wish to address me."

Tom hesitated for a moment. He did not want this. He was the strong one; he was the one in charge. But then, so was Ginny, in almost every aspect of her life. If she could do this, so could he. He had to. He slid to his knees. "May I eat you, Mistress?"

Ginny frowned. "If you make another suggestion I'll punish you. Now, tell me your safeword."

"Josephine," Tom said.

Ginny smiled at that. "You can have ten minutes to wash up," she said. "Come out of the bathroom naked."

"Yes, Mistress."

Tom stood up, glancing at Ginny warily as he did so. She frowned at him but didn't say anything. After using the toilet he took off his clothes and looked at himself in the mirror. He wasn't vain, but he knew he looked pretty good for a middle aged man who had lived some. He was tall and lean, and he worked out as frequently as his schedule allowed. He had been addressing his thinning hair by shaving his head for several years now. But he had never felt as exposed as he felt at this moment.

He washed his hands and splashed some water on his face. He did love Ginny, had been in love with her for a while, even if he was only realizing it now. And she was right, he was kind of a dick, and not just to her. His kids had long complained that he was too busy being a know-it-all to listen to them. Just last week he had seen a younger colleague roll his eyes when Tom tried to explain a contract nuance to him. And his ex-wife - well, no point in going there. They had been equally at fault in drifting apart. But one of his fights with Amy came back to him. She had not yelled, but had just said in an exhausted voice, "Could you shut up and let me take care of this for once in your fucking life?" He didn't recall what it was that she had been trying to take care of, but whatever it was, he was sure that at the time he believed he could have done it better. Whether it was a financial decision, or cooking dinner, or something to do with the kids.

But Amy was doing just fine since the divorce. She hadn't had to declare bankruptcy, or burned her house down, or alienated any of the kids even during the difficult teen years. Maybe giving up control would not have ruined their lives.

Control. Tom had always craved it. That was what had gotten him interested in dominance and submission. Of course with Ginny it was different and had been for a while now. It wasn't just the feeling of being in charge, it was the sheer joy of bringing her pleasure, of allowing her to not be in charge, to relax into him.

He dried his face and took a breath, then, naked, left the bathroom and entered the hotel room.

Ginny, still fully dressed, was rifling through his bag of tricks, as they both called it. She gestured over to the bed. She had stripped it of its everything except for the bottom sheet and one pillow. Tom's under-mattress restraints dangled at the four corners.

Tom shook his head. It wasn't as if no one had ever tied him up before, but he didn't like it. He met Ginny's eyes. "You can do this," she said. She walked over to him and kissed him on the lips. When Tom began to respond he stepped back and nudged him towards the bed. "Lay down on your back."

He obeyed, fighting his reluctance, making himself spread his arms and legs.

Ginny sat on the bed. She took his right hand, caressing his palm when she did so. Tom willed himself not to react as she circled his wrist with the cuff. "You know you can get out of these, right?" Ginny said.

Of course. Tom had researched them before he bought them, and tested them before he used them on Ginny. He had made her practice getting out of them. He would never put her in any danger.

"You need to answer me, Sweetie," Ginny said.

Tom cleared his throat. "Yes, Mistress."

"Would you like to practice?"

God, yes. "No, Mistress."

"No thank you, Mistress," Ginny admonished him.

"No thank you, Mistress."

Tom focused on holding himself still as Ginny attached all four of the cuffs. She sat on the bed next to him. "I'm leaving the restraints loose enough that you can wriggle if you need to, but I expect you not to take advantage of that. "

"Yes, Mistress."

"Do you remember the first time we met in person, Tom?"

"Of course, Mistress."

"You made me admit to you what a slut I was, and you made me come, and you wouldn't let me touch you. You said you had more control than that."

"I'm sorry, Mistress."

"I loved it, Tom. It was the best sex I had ever had, until the next time, and somehow that was even better. I loved the humiliation, I loved you allowing me to be a slut, I loved you making me come." Ginny rested her hand on Tom's chest. "But you're not me. You crave different things. I'm not going to humiliate you, and I'm not going to make you come against your will. I think you're going to want to come, but I'm not going to make you beg for it. I'm going to explore your body, and all I'm requiring of you today is that you let me."

She shifted her weight, and Tom saw something in her hand. Involuntarily he shook his head. Ginny said seriously, "You can use your safe word, Tom." He expelled a breath and didn't say anything. "Good boy. Lift your head." Tom obeyed and she tied the sleep mask on him. It was a girly purple satin thing that Tom had obviously bought for Ginny. She made sure it was secured firmly, then got off the bed. He could hear her rustling around, and then she was laying next to him, nestled against him, naked.

She splayed her hand on his chest. He burned where she touched him. She moved her hand up to his neck, caressing it. "In all this time, I've never really gotten to touch you as much as I've wanted," she said. "To try things out. To learn what makes you feel good that you might not even know about." She shifted. "Like, is your neck an erogenous zone?" Her lips pressed the soft skin below his jaw bone, and then he felt her tongue there, making little circles. Her hand came up and caressed his ear. "Do you like this, Tom?"

"I'm afraid that you'll give me a hickey, Mistress," Tom said.

"Hmm," Ginny said. "I won't, any more than you would ever mark me where someone could see it. But I'm going to stop for now. I might come back later, and see if I can give you pleasure that overrides your fear." She kissed him on the lips. "That's for being honest with me," she said,

Tom wondered if he had been honest with her. He had used words to push her away. He tried to will the swelling of his cock down, to maintain control. But Ginny was touching him again, on his chest. "Do you remember the first time you put nipple clamps on me?" she asked.

"They were clothespins, Mistress," Tom said. "They made you wild. I remember wondering if you might come just from the sensation alone."

"I'm not going to use them on you," Ginny said. "Not this time. I'm going to pinch your nipples with my fingers and see if you like it." She did, and Tom did like it. He grunted. "Has anyone ever done this to you before?" Ginny asked.

"No, Mistress."

"You're very responsive here. How does it make you feel?"

"My body likes it, Mistress," Tom said.

Ginny stopped. Tom grunted his disappointment. "I'm not going to force responses from you, Tom," she said. "I'm going to find things that you like, mind and body both."

"Then why don't you ask me?" Tom thought with annoyance. But he realized he had never asked Ginny that same question. He had enjoyed learning her body, perhaps more than she had enjoyed having him learn it.

"I don't want to be a mosquito, flitting from one part of you to the next." Ginny seemed to be talking more to herself than to him. "So I'm going to stay with your upper body for now." Her fingers drifted up to his shoulder, and then slowly trailed down his arm. She paused at the inside of his elbow, sort of petting him there with the back of her fingernails. It seemed a bit juvenile, something that young teenagers would do as a prelude to making out. Tom admonished himself not to be so judgmental. But then, somehow she had positioned herself so that she could reach the same spot on his other arm. The double sensation was electrifying. Tom grunted and twitched. "Try to stay still," Ginny said. She moved the backs of her fingernails down his forearms, past his wrists, and then to the palms of his hands. The feeling was more sensual than sexual. She lifted herself off the bed, leaving one of his hands, not breaking touch with the other. And suddenly her mouth was around his index finger, sucking on it, drawing it all the way into her mouth and slowly releasing it.

Ginny wasn't great at blow jobs. Tom knew this embarrassed her, and while he gently encouraged her, he never pushed. But right now he felt as if his entire cock was in Ginny's mouth, her tongue swirling around it. If Ginny saw his hardness twitching she gave no indication. She just continued to suck his index finger. Why had Tom never thought to have Ginny do this to him? Why had he never done it to her? Would she love it as much as he did? What did she feel right now? Did this affect her pussy the way it affected his cock?

Ginny slowly sucked her way up his finger until it was no longer in his mouth. She smoothed his brow. "My poor darling," she said. "Even with the mask on I can see your mind working. But you liked that, didn't you?"

"Yes, Mistress. Mostly."

"But?"

"But I want to know if you liked it too."

Ginny laughed. She took her hand off his forehead and a moment later her finger was at his lips. "Taste me," she said. He opened his mouth. When Ginny didn't move her finger he reached for it with his tongue, tasting her juices on it. She moved her hand away, and then her finger was on his upper lift, leaving a trail of her sweetness just under his nose. "Smell me," she said, and he could hear the smile in her voice.

She got off the bed. Tom wasn't sure what she was doing; he only knew that she wasn't touching him any more. A couple of minutes went by. Tom wanted to call out to her, to make sure she hadn't silently left the room. He settled for quietly pulling at his bonds, testing how secure they were, although of course he already knew; secure enough to hold him unless he decided to get out. Another minute went by. His erection faded. And then, there was Ginny's hand on his inner thigh. "Were you worried that I'd left you alone just now, Tom?"

"I know you wouldn't do that, Mistress."

"But you were worried all the same."

"Yes, Mistress."

"I appreciate how hard you're trying, Tom. I'm going to tell you what I'm going to do next, so you can relax into it."

"Thank you, Mistress."

"You like it when I touch both sides of your body at the same time. So I'm going to massage both your inner thighs. I've got some oil that I'm going to use. But I'm not going to touch your cock or your balls." Ginny waited a minute. "Are you ready?"

"Yes, Mistress." And suddenly Tom was in heaven. Ginny's fingers were at the creases of his thighs, circling there with oil made warm by her hands. He hardened again, and gasped.

"That's it, Tom," Ginny said, her thumbs at the top her his legs. "Do you like this?"

"Yes, Mistress," Tom said.

"It helps you to know that I'm not going to touch your cock and balls, doesn't it?"

"Yes, Mistress, it helps me feel safe," Tom said, astonishing himself that he said those words out loud.

"Good boy." Ginny kept massaging Tom's upper thighs, until Tom found himself involuntarily thrusting his hips up, seeking more contact.