TURNABOUT
IS FAIR PLAY
By
JASMINE
GOLD
Tom nodded with satisfaction as he
watched Ginny look around the hotel room.
This was the first time they had an entire weekend to themselves. Ginny was quiet about what favors she had had
to trade to get a respite from her kids.
He knew that if she decided to tell him she would try to make it sound
like a funny story full of quirky people. And that if he alluded to the reality of her
situation she would get that tough look in her eyes and change the
subject.
Tom had considered reserving a
room at an inn, but he wanted more anonymity for Ginny and him than that would
provide. So he opted for one of the
national chain hotels than mostly catered to business travelers. It had a bar, and a so-so breakfast buffet,
and a door that locked, and most likely would be barely a quarter full over the
weekend. That was important, because Tom
did not want to gag Ginny tonight.
“Our dinner reservations are in
thirty minutes,” he told her. “And you
haven’t given me a proper kiss hello.”
“I’m sorry, sir.” Ginny left her overnight bag where it was and
walked over to Tom. She put her arms
around his middle, and tilted her head up.
She had to stand on her tiptoes to touch her lips to his, as he did not
help her out. He tasted her, then pulled
back.
“I didn’t give you permission to
touch me. That’s two punishments you’ve earned now.” He was tempted to pull her against him, to
allow her to feel his hardness, to kiss her senseless. But he was her dom, her master, for the
weekend, and he needed to do this right.
And, he wanted to see her reaction to his words.
Classic Ginny. First the flash of delight and desire, then
the reminder to herself that she should play the role, then the confusion about
how to best please Tom, then the looking down. “As you will, Sir. I know I deserve whatever punishment you
choose to give me.”
What Tom really wanted to punish her for was
all the people that she allowed to take advantage of her. He reminded himself to stay in control.
“Take off your panties.”
As he had instructed her, Ginny
was wearing her loose green skirt that fell to three inches above her
knees. Demure enough, but sexy as
hell. She had great legs. She reached under the skirt and pulled her
panties down. Tom held out his hand and
she gave them to him. They were white
lace. He smelled them, then put them
under her nose to smell as well. “I see you’ve
been anticipating our weekend,” he said.
“Yes, Sir,” Ginny said.
“Describe to me what it feels like.” Ginny took a moment, pondering. “Now, Ginny, or I’ll add another punishment.”
“I’m excited, Sir.” She glanced at him. “My clit is tingling. And the tingling is radiating out, to my
pussy and up to my – ” she gestured vaguely with her hands “—my middle. And when you speak to me as my master, there’s
a little pulse and I feel it all the way up to my brain.”
“Hmm. It seems that you’ll have to
keep your legs spread so you don’t come without permission.” Ginny blushed. She had a beautiful blush. “Are you wet?”
“Yes, Sir. You smelled it on my panties.”
“Don’t be smart with me. I think all this talk of punishment without
giving you a taste has made you bold.”
“I’m sorry, Sir.” She looked down, but he could see her smile.
“No, look at me.” Ginny complied, and Tom held her gaze. She
was sucking the inside of her cheeks, probably to prevent breaking out into a
fullfledged grin. “What is your safe
word?”
“Napoleon, Sir.”
“Have you ever used your safe word
with me?”
“No, Sir, I’ve never needed to.”
And that was the core of Tom’s
frustration, and what he was determined to change this weekend. There were submissives whose limits were
difficult to reach, but mostly they were masochists. Ginny was not a masochist, and Tom was not a
sadist. And yet, Ginny had never said no
to Tom; it was always for him to decide when she had had enough. That was no good for either of them. She needed to know that she could trust Tom
to stop at any time; Tom needed to know that he could trust her to tell him to
stop.
“You have agreed that this entire
weekend you will submit to me?”
“Yes, Sir.”
“As your dom, I order you to use
your safeword when you’ve had enough.”
“Yes, Sir.” The look on Ginny’s face was one that Tom
knew well, the one that conveyed that she enjoyed her strength. She lived a life where she had never asked for
any quarter, and no one ever gave her any.
But Tom was determined: she was going to ask him, and he was going to
give it to her.
“Bend over the bed, and spread
your legs.” As Ginny obeyed, Tom reached
into his satchel and found the tube of ointment he had packed. He pulled the bottom of Ginny’s skirt up over
her ass. God, he loved her ass. He couldn’t refrain from putting his palm on
it. Ginny sighed softy. “Hush.”
Her pussy wasn’t just wet, it was soaked. Tom touched her clit with his forefinger,
gently swirling around it. To her credit
Ginny was quiet, but she couldn’t help wriggling, trying for more contact. Tom
let this pass. “It’s good that you’re so
ready for me. It will make this act
faster, and we can get right to dinner.”
He squeezed some of the ointment onto his finger, and again touched his
finger to Ginny’s clit. She squirmed
again, but it didn’t take long for the ointment to take effect.
“What . . . ?” She looked back at
him.
“Yes, dear, what’s the matter?”
Tom asked with mock innocence.
“It burns. Where you touched me, my pussy burns.”
“Well, yes, this is your first
punishment. Hold still now.” He rubbed in more ointment, going all around
her nub, and then her slit. He paused
before putting a last squeeze onto his finger and pushing it into her sex.
“Sir, please . . . “
“Yes, do you want to use your
safeword? There’s time to wash this off
before we leave for dinner.”
“No, Sir. I deserve this punishment.”
Tom was not surprised. Ginny knew he would never harm her, and that
he would never put anything on her pussy that he had not thoroughly
researched. He had tested it on himself
– the inside of his wrist, but still. He
contemplated putting some of the ointment in her butt, but they had not yet
gotten into ass play and it was not on the agenda for this weekend.
“Stand up and put your panties
on.”
Tom watched as Ginny pulled her panties
up a little high, hoping to get some relief from the burning. He shrugged.
The rubbing would only make it worse.
***
The restaurant was a steak place
that Tom had, of course, checked the reviews of, and it did not
disappoint. He allowed Ginny to order
her meat medium well with barely an admonishment. He doubted she noticed, as she tried hard not
to rock forward and back in her seat.
“The steak is not the only thing that is cooking tonight,” he said.
Ginny rolled her eyes. “Can I use my safe word on your Dad puns?”
she asked.
“Sweetie, you can use it on
anything you want. But as soon as you
say it I will send you to the bathroom to wash yourself off.”
Ginny glared at him.
Tom’s steak was perfect, like a
cow that had walked between two candlesticks. He made Ginny take a bite of
it. She needed to develop a palate. She dutifully chewed and swallowed.
They were sitting in a round booth,
allowing them to be right next to each other.
Tom put his hand on her skirt.
“Your legs are awfully close together,” he admonished her. She looked a little worried but spread her
knees. Tom moved his hand under her
skirt, resting it on her inner thigh. He
asked her questions about a project she was working on at her job. She grew animated describing it, seeming to
even forget her burning pussy. The
ointment was probably wearing off by now.
Over dessert – a shared piece of cheesecake – Tom told her about his
recent business trip. Ginny’s mouth
tightened when he paid the check – allowing Tom to pay for their time together
was probably more painful to Ginny then the ointment was, and a lot less fun.
“Sir, could we walk around a bit
before we go back to the hotel? It was a
long drive and I’d like to stretch my legs.”
“Of course, Sweetie.” Tom felt a bit annoyed, as he was itching to
get on to the next part of Ginny’s punishment.
But Ginny rarely asked for anything, and he could use the fresh air as
well.
They wandered the mostly closed
business district for a few blocks, holding hands, looking in shop
windows. There weren’t a lot of people
around, but it had not gotten dark yet. They paused for a while in front of a
book store, talking about the books in the front display they had read or
intended to read. It started to
sprinkle, and Tom led Ginny back to the hotel.
Before they went into the lobby, he stopped and turned her to face him. He put one finger under her chin, tilting it
up. Obediently she waited, but her eyes
sparkled. He kissed her, more sweetly
than passionately, but that was enough for his cock to spring to life. He could get lost in her. But he would not, not this weekend. He pulled back. Ginny smiled up at him. “Thank you, Sir,” she said.
“If we weren’t outside right now
I’d tweak your nipples until you moaned,” Tom said. Ginny looked around and pointed towards an
alley to the back side of the hotel that led to the deliveries entrance. “No,” Tom said. “I don’t care to step over rats. And in a little while you’ll be moaning
regardless.” Once again he took her hand
and led her through the lobby to the elevator, and then to their room. He closed and bolted the door behind them.
“You’ve got five minutes to shower
and wash off the ointment,” Tom said.
“Be efficient. And don’t even
think about coming.”
“Maybe you’d like to wash it off,
just to make sure?” Ginny asked.
“No,” Tom said. “Do as I say, and then we move on to your
next punishment.”
“Yes, Sir.”
Ginny stripped in front of Tom,
doubtless hoping that he would change his mind and join her in the shower. Tom turned his back to her, because if he
didn’t he might indeed change his mind.
He adored her body. Maybe someday
he would let her know how much he fantasized about it, about her, when they
were apart. She was about 5’ 6”, which
was a nice height but significantly shorter than his 6 feet. She was a bit plump, and carried her weight
in her middle, so that Tom could squeeze the area between her belly button and
her unshaven pussy. Her breasts were too
big to grab entirely in one hand, and sagged a little when she did not wear a
bra. He
loved that her body was that of a life full of experience. But her face was a masterpiece. Hazel eyes, peaches and cream complexion that
made her look younger than her age despite the beginning of wrinkles on her
forehead, lips that puckered when she was deep in thought. Kissable, kissable
lips. Tom shook his head. He had to stay focused.
By the time Ginny was out of the
shower Tom was sitting at the foot of the bed, wearing only pajama
bottoms. “Did you come?” Tom asked her.
Ginny looked offended, but
answered, “No, Sir.”
“Do you want to?”
Ginny nodded almost
frantically. “Yes, Sir.”
“Good.” He patted the bed next to where he was
sitting. “I’ve never given you a
punishment spanking before, have I?”
Ginny looked confused. “Oh, I’ve
spanked you, but only because I wanted to, not because you had done anything
wrong. That was for our pleasure. This is to teach you a lesson.”
Ginny’s look of confusion turned
to perplexity, and maybe even annoyance.
“You were mad that I didn’t kiss you and then you were mad that I did
kiss you,” she said. “What lesson am I
supposed to learn from that?”
“Sir,” Tom admonished.
“Sir,” Ginny said, but not like
she meant it. She was getting outside
the game.
“If you don’t want me to punish
you, then use your safe word.”
Ginny glared at him, and slowly
and deliberately lay herself across his lap.
Tom put his hand on her ass. “What’s your safe word, Ginny?”
“I’m not saying it, I’m just
telling you that it’s Napoleon, Sir.”
He slapped her ass. Her beautiful ass. She barely reacted.
Again, on the other side. Again, no reaction.
At the eighth slap, Ginny said,
“Oof,” softly. He smacked on that spot,
the center of her left cheek, a little harder. Another “oof,” and she moved on
his lap a bit, rubbing against his cock.
He went from semi-erect to hard in response.
Ginny must have felt that, because
now with every slap she made sure to wriggle.
Well, two can play that game. Tom
reached between the apex of her thighs, putting his fist there, making her
spread her legs. He lightly, lightly
touched her clit. She was soaking again, or still. He removed his hand and spanked her. She rubbed against him. He touched her clit, he spanked her, she
rubbed against him. He kept up the
pattern. Now she said “oof” when he
spanked her and “ahh,” when he touched her.
The next time, he kept his finger on her clit, without moving it. “Do you want to come?”
“Yes, Sir. Yes, Master. Please, Master.”
“Then say your safe word.”
Silence.
Tom tamped down his frustration as
he thought of another strategy, one that would bring him pleasure. “Get off me for a minute. You can kneel on the floor.” Ginny immediately slid off him. She faced the bed as she kneeled, resting
against it. Tom stood up and took off
his pajama bottoms. “Back on me,” he
said. Ginny lay herself over his lap again.
He rearranged her until his cock was against the softness of her
stomach. He spanked her. The “oof” sound, her movement back and forth,
now causing her to rub directly against his dick. He didn’t bother to touch her clit now. He spanked her and spanked her, and each time
she rubbed against him. “Say it,” he
said. “Say your safe word.” He spanked her at the top of her thighs,
hard, and she cried out, and lurched forward and brought herself back. He kept spanking her there, barely varying
where his hand landed, and her cries were louder and louder. He hit her even harder. She lurched forward, and with a strangled cry
he came on her stomach.
It took him a moment to recover. When he caught his breath he laid his hand on
her butt. It was so tender now that even
a soft touch made her cry out. He spread
her legs again. “Shall I spank you right
on the pussy?” he said.
“If you do, I’ll come, Master, I
won’t be able to help it.”
“Say your safe word and I’ll let
you.”
Silence.
“Then your punishment is
over. Lay on the bed on your back.” Tom tried not to let his annoyance and
disappointment show. He had stopped just
short of leaving bruises on her, and she would need aftercare. When Ginny crawled onto the bed, carefully
not whimpering when her bottom touched the bedspread, Tom wiped his mess off
her with a warm washcloth. He instructed
her to turn over, and he rubbed aloe lotion onto her butt and thighs, and then
cuddled her and whispered sweet nothings into her ear until she fell asleep.
***
Tom woke early the next
morning. He was on his back, and Ginny
was half on top of him with her arm around him.
He kissed the top of her head and slithered out from under her. She grumbled but did not wake. Tom took
a quick shower and got dressed.
He put the hotel’s bottle of water on the bedside table for her, and
left a short note and the extra room key card next to it. As he walked around the same part of town he
and Ginny had wandered the night before, his mind kept returning to that bottle
of water, until he realized that he had formulated a plan.
Ginny was awake and dressed by the
time he came back to the room. She
greeted him with a smile. “May I kiss you good morning, Sir?” she asked. Tom gave his assent and pulled her towards
him, in much better spirits than he had been.
“Are you sore?” he asked her.
Ginny shrugged. “It’s not too bad, Sir.” With Ginny that could mean anything from she
barely felt it to she was in a lot of pain but didn’t want to admit it. Rather than pursuing the subject, Tom led
Ginny to the breakfast buffet. He ate
lightly; just half a bagel with cream cheese, and he skipped his coffee. Ginny went for the scrambled eggs and fruit
salad. And, of course, as he had known
she would, she filled a tall glass with water, no ice. In general Ginny disdained anything that
smacked of self-care, but hydration was a mantra to her.
Tom chatted amiably with her
throughout breakfast. Ginny told him
about a podcast she had listened to on the drive up yesterday about the Trojan
war, and Tom told her about the archaeological dig that had found Troy.
Tom glanced at his watch, just
very slightly ostentatiously. “We should
head over to the museum,” he said. “I’d
like to get there when it opens, before it gets to crowded.”
Ginny looked puzzled. “What museum?”
“It’s called the Bettina Art
Museum. It’s small, but for a town this
size the collection is excellent.” Tom
ignored Ginny’s consternation. He was
well aware that she loathed art museums.
He stood up. “Let’s go.”
“Let me just run to the room to
get my purse.”
“You don’t need it, Sweetie. And I want to go.”
Ginny almost pouted, but stopped
herself. She did look worried
though. “I’ll go to the restroom in the
lobby, then,” she said.
“I said I want to go now.”
Tom could see the realization
dawning on her that he wanted to play this morning, and her decision to let
him. “Yes, Sir,” she said. She allowed him to take her hand and lead her
out of the hotel.
The museum really did have a good
collection, including, unexpectedly, an original Grandma Moses painting. Ginny was somewhat interested in that, but
they hadn’t been in the museum very long before her eyes glazed over. She was clearly trying to disappear into her
own world, but Tom insisted on explaining various pieces of artwork to her and
asking her enough questions that she had to pay attention.
She made it about an hour before
she tried to excuse herself to use the restroom. “No, there’s another painting I want to show
you,” Tom said, leading her randomly through an archway into another room. This gallery was full of stereotypical modern
art, guaranteed not to take Ginny’s mind off of anything. Tom didn’t let go of her hand as he dawdled in
front of various paint splatters.
“Do you mind if I go take a look
at the impressionists?” Ginny finally asked.
“Sir,” Tom said reprovingly.
Ginny looked around before she
said, a little quieter, “Do you mind if I go take a look at the impressionists,
Sir?”
“Certainly,” Tom said. “I’ll go with you.”
“No, that’s okay, you said before
the collection doesn’t have any great works, and you really like the modern
stuff. Sir.”
“Ginny,” Tom said, “I want to
spend the day with you. If you want to
see the impressionists, we’ll go together to the impressionists.”
“I was just going to stop at the
restroom on the way, Sir.” A family had
come into the gallery and she spoke quietly.
Tom pretended not to hear her.
As Tom had expected, the
impressionist room was pedestrian, but he allowed Ginny to set the pace. He let go of her hand so he could stand
behind her and watch her lean from one foot to another. When she actually crossed her legs, Tom
suggested that they go to lunch. Ginny
nodded eagerly. They walked the block or
so to the upscale French place that Tom had researched and selected. He didn’t
attempt to make conversation as they walked.
Ginny looked increasingly worried.
The restaurant was just opening
when they arrived. Tom looked around and
requested a particular table with a round booth. He chose to sit opposite Ginny rather than
directly next to her. “Shall I order for
you, Sweetie?” Ginny nodded. “Yes, Sir,” Tom prompted.
“Yes, Sir,” Ginny said.
Tom ordered salad niçoise for
himself and quiche for Ginny. He made
sure to add, “And large glasses of water, with no ice, for both of us.” Ginny sat with her legs tightly crossed. When the food arrived Ginny picked at her
quiche, which Tom allowed. When she put
down her fork and suggested they return to the hotel, Tom said, “Drink your
water, Sweetie. You don’t want to get a
headache.” He allowed himself a tiny
smirk.
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.
“You’re afraid that if I
touch your cock you might come.”
“Yes, Mistress.”
“And why are you afraid
of that?”
“I don’t like to give up
control, Mistress. You know that.”
“But, Tom, you have no
control now. I could touch your cock and
make you come, or I could stop touching you altogether, or I could give you a
hickey. Why not allow yourself pleasure?”
Ginny continued
massaging his thighs as she spoke. Tom
could barely think, much less answer.
Her hands moved fractionally closer to his balls, and Tom moaned. And then her hands moved all the way down his
legs, to his calves. She began to
massage him there, one hand on each calf, starting just below his knee and
moving down to his ankles. It was less
sexual than when she had massaged his thighs, but somehow felt even better,
relaxing him and exciting him at the same time.
Her hands ventured down further, to the balls of his feet, her thumbs
digging in. The feeling was exquisite. Tom let out the longest, deepest moan of his
entire life. “That’s it, Tom. Good boy,” Ginny said. Tom wasn’t sure how long she kept going; he
only knew he never wanted her to stop.
And then her fingernails were on the top of his feet, and that didn’t
feel better, just differently incredible.
When she started to alternate sides, one hand on the top of his foot,
one hand at the bottom, her fingernails moving from his ankle to his toes, one
foot, then the other, Tom, who never moaned, was moaning continuously.
Ginny stopped, resting
her hands on the top of Tom’s feet. “I
found something that you like,” she said, sounding pleased with yourself. “Has anyone ever given you a footrub like
that?”
“Not like that,
Mistress,” Tom said.
“Do you want me to stop
touching you?”
“No, Mistress.”
He could hear the smile
in her voice. “Where do you want me to
touch you?”
“Anywhere,
Mistress. Everywhere.”
“Your thighs again?”
“Yes, Mistress.”
“Your cock?”
“God, yes, please, Mistress.”
“You’re sure?”
“Yes, Mistress.”
“Do you want me to fuck
you?”
The tiniest
hesitation. “I don’t want to come
without you.”
“I’ll make sure you
don’t.” And she was crawling up his
body, and straddling him, taking hold of his hard cock and slowly easing
herself onto it. Ginny sometimes had
trouble with penetration, but she was wetter than he had ever known her to
be. She leaned forward onto him, her
mouth on his neck. “Do you like this?”
Tom groaned again, and
thrust himself up into her. “You
promised, Mistress, that you wouldn’t let me come without you.”
“Don’t question me,
Tom.” She shifted forward a little and
unfastened his right wrist. Gently she
sat up, pulling his hand, directing his finger to her clit. He circled it with the speed and pressure he
knew she liked, following her as she rode up and down his cock. “That’s it, Tom. Count down from five.”
“Five.” Ginny grunted and grabbed his finger, gluing
it to her. “Four.” She let go of his hand and squeezed his
nipples. He wasn’t sure he would make it
to one. “Three.” He was thrusting into her with everything he
had. “Two one come oh my god come,
please mistress come.” Ginny obliged
him, exploding over him. Tom let go, his
whole soul releasing into her. “I love
you I love you I love you,” he said.
“I love you too,
Tom.”
If you enjoyed this story check out my book of short stories about hot, consensual sex (including Tom and Ginny's first meeting), The Mature Woman's Guide to Desire, or my dark, dystopian novel about naked sex slaves, Mindgames.
