The Switch Ch. 05

'Brats,' Oliver said, as if the one word explained everything.

Which, in the boy's case, it did. Oliver didn't tolerate brattishness. Personally, Samara had always felt she was the same, but the boy had come along and put paid to that. She hated to admit it, but he could be a lot of fun when he was being mouthy.

Samara glanced at Aimee. 'The boy's a masochist,' she explained. 'He likes pain. Humiliation. Punishment. He's a whore. He'll do anything for more. If he thinks he's being ignored, he plays up to get attention.'

'And if he plays his cards right, he'll get what he's after,' Oliver added, for Aimee's benefit. 'It's a pain in the arse. Brats are too much work in my opinion.'

'Normally I'd agree,' Samara conceded. 'This one's different. He makes me laugh.'

Aimee seemed both intrigued and perplexed. 'So how do you, um, punish someone for bad behaviour without rewarding them?' she inquired, glancing at the boy.

'That, at times, is the million dollar question,' Samara admitted. 'What would you do?'

'I don't know,' Aimee confessed. 'What did he do?'

'On Friday morning I laid out my outfit for work and went to have a shower. When I went to get dressed, I realised he'd changed my outfit for something he wanted to see me wear,' Samara explained. 'Instead of a black suit and comfortable underwear, he set out a black lace thong, matching bra, and a black dress.'

Aimee frowned. She was obviously thinking about it. Samara thought this was a good sign; she was at least open to the lifestyle. She wasn't sneering or laughing at it.

'I think I'd make him wear the underwear he'd set out,' Aimee suggested. 'Or, if it didn't fit him, I'd buy him a black thong that did.'

Samara smiled. She looked at Oliver. 'Olly, excuse us a minute.'

Samara took Aimee's hand. 'Come with me,' she said. She gave Kyle's leash a yank. 'I'll show you something.'

They went upstairs to a bedroom. There was a keypad at the door. Samara typed in a code, disabling video surveillance.

'Have you been warned the house is wired?' she asked Aimee.

Aimee nodded. 'Yes. I can see why; if I lived here, I wouldn't want to risk people stealing things.'

'That's only part of the reason. The other part is so you can watch what's going on in the rooms while you're downstairs,' Samara explained. 'Normally, I'd leave it on, but there are too many strangers here, and the boy doesn't like unknown men around when he's being humiliated.'

'Is that why you left Oliver downstairs?'

'Partly. I also want you to have some privacy.' Samara looked at the girl intently. 'Do you understand the concept of safewords?'

'Yes. Val gets me to use them during regular sex.'

So he was easing her into it. Teaching her the basics, before delving too deep. That was useful. He must like her.

'What does he have you say?' Samara inquired.

'I've had enough.'

'So that's how you stop him? What do you say if you want him to slow down or back off a bit?'

Aimee shrugged. 'I normally just get cranky until he stops and listens.' Aimee paused. 'Does that sound mean? I don't intend to be mean to him.'

'You can be mean to him. He likes it.' Samara glanced over at Kyle, who was quivering with anticipation. 'For today, say 'Amber' if you want me to slow down. I'll be done in ten minutes. Normally, you can take as long as you want, but if we stay too long, someone will come looking for us.'

'Okay.'

'I want you to focus on watching what I do. The rules are this; don't talk to the boy or touch him unless I tell you to. If I tell you to do something to him, make sure you do precisely what I've told you. If he says 'Nemesis', back it off. If he says 'Revelations', stop. Stop immediately.

Afterwards, you might feel a bit awkward or upset. That's okay; masochists can be hard for the average person to understand. It goes against everything we're taught growing up. You can talk to me about it at any time. You can get my phone number off Val. Don't feel ashamed of your reaction. We're all human.'

Aimee nodded. 'I understand. Nemesis to slow down, Revelations to stop.'

Samara smiled. She liked to play. She especially enjoyed having Aimee here, someone new and fresh, to taunt her boy with. Samara didn't feel guilty about corrupting Aimee; in fact, she saw herself as doing Val a favour.

It was time to start. The room was a good one to use; a cupboard full of utensils, bolts attached to the wall, and a bare light bulb hanging from the ceiling. She circled the boy, staring him up and down. He took a deep breath and shut his eyes. He was scared. He hadn't thought anything was going to happen tonight, lest of all with a newbie.

'He's a whore,' Samara remarked. 'A slut. You should see him at home sometime. He's a farmer. He can oversee thousands of hectares, and a turnover that runs in the millions, but at the end of the day, all he's ever wanted is someone to own him. Someone to acknowledge what a dirty little bastard he is.'

The boy's face flushed red. The musky odour of male arousal filled the room. She could smell him; she knew him so intimately she could easily pick out the scent of him. He was hers. Her boy to whip and bruise, to break down and humiliate, to force into oral servitude.

Samara glanced at Aimee. 'You don't believe me, do you? You think this is cruelty. Well, it is cruelty, but I guarantee you he likes it. In a minute, he's going to unlace part of his suit. He's going to show you his cock. He's not the biggest I've been with, but he's probably the hardest. It's like cut glass when he's ready, and this boy, he's always ready.'

She paused, letting the words sink in. She was also allowing both Aimee and Kyle the option to slow down. Neither her boy nor her pupil made a peep.

'Boy,' Samara instructed. 'Show her.'

The boy's hands were shaking as he unlaced and unzipped. He was ridden with shame. He knew he was about to expose not just his erection, but something far worse. Something he always thought was beyond his limits.

'Remind us, Aimee, what you suggested I do to someone who swapped my underwear around,' Samara requested.

'I said I'd make him wear the thong,' Aimee said quietly.

Samara smirked. She gestured to the boy's crotch as he revealed what he wore underneath. 'It's an excellent idea. One I used myself. It's more effective on men like the boy, who swore they'd never do anything like it. Don't try it on Val, of course. He'd get far too much pleasure out of it. For Val, it's a treat. For my boy, however...'

The boy made a small, pleading noise.

'Are we embarrassed?' Samara inquired, patting his head. 'Oh, we are. Well, that's a pity, isn't it? Look at you; look at that lacy little thong under all that leather. Leather and lace. My dirty boy. It doesn't stop you from getting hard, though, does it? I can see you bursting out of my knickers. The front is wet with your pre cum.'

The boy hung his head as she fondled him through the underwear. He whimpered with pleasure but wasn't silly enough to thrust into her hand.

'Cover up, boy,' she ordered, removing her hand from his crotch. 'She's seen enough.'

The boy covered up, regaining his modesty. Samara watched him carefully. So far, both he and Aimee seemed to be happy to play the game. It was time to up the ante. She grabbed a chair from the corner of the room and put it next to Aimee.

'Aimee, sit down and take your shoes off,' she said. 'Boy, get on your knees. Crawl over and rub her feet.'

Both the boy and Aimee obeyed. Samara bit back a smile at the thought of Valery downstairs, completely oblivious as to what was going on up here. He was going to either kill her, or be forever grateful, when he found out.

Samara glanced over at Aimee. She was standing quite still while the boy worshipped her feet, but she was chewing anxiously on a fingernail.

'Here,' Samara said, offering Aimee the boy's lead. 'Hold this. When you've had enough, give it a slight tug. It won't hurt him. If you think he's done a good job, you can pat him. Touch his head, arms, back. Talk to him, but remember, he won't respond.'

Aimee took the lead and peered anxiously at the boy. It took her less than a minute to gently tug on the leash. The movement was so slight that Samara thought the boy might have missed it, but he'd obviously been paying attention. He was such a good, good boy. Smart mouthed and naughty at times, but so well behaved when it really mattered. He knelt at Aimee's feet, his head bowed.

'Good boy,' Aimee whispered, patting his hair. She looked over at Samara. 'Can I touch his suit? Or is that not allowed?'

'I told you where you can touch him. Go right ahead, if that's what you want.'

Aimee crouched down and gently ran her hand over the boy's shoulders. She touched the rings, the belts and the zippers with reverence. She was clearly piecing together what she'd researched with the scene she was participating in. The gaps of knowledge were being filled in. Aimee may have been new to this, but Samara was growing ever more confident she had a lot of potential.

'What are you thinking?' Samara asked.

Aimee hesitated. 'You said earlier he got off on pain. What sort of pain? What do you do to him?'

Samara took the leash from Aimee's hands. She tugged twice to indicate she wanted the boy to rise. He stood up, facing his Mistress, and waited for her next move.

'I'll show you,' Samara offered. ' Go to that cupboard over there. Find some handcuffs.'

While Samara quickly and expertly uncovered the boy's ass, Aimee collected a pair of metal handcuffs. Samara took them and cuffed the boy. His breathing was getting heavy. She knew how aroused he was, how much it turned him on to be at her mercy.

'Boy, lean forward and hold your knees,' she said.

The boy leant forward, exposing a smooth, muscular ass. He was tense. He wanted the pain, but still, he feared it.

Samara turned her attention to Aimee. 'It's hard in this suit to fully expose him without undressing him, and that's a bit of a process. You won't need to worry about that with Val; he doesn't have a full suit - at least that I'm aware of - and he's not as keen on physical pain as the boy.'

'Okay,' Aimee agreed.

Samara rubbed the boy's rear, before pulling her hand back, and slapping him on the ass. He jolted forward, but retained his balance. A red handprint formed on his left cheek. Samara smirked and spanked him again, and again, and again.

The boy started to whimper. Samara's grin widened.

'Ten more,' Samara told him. 'Count them out loud. Don't lose count or I'll stop.'

It was the first time the boy had spoken all day, and his voice was hoarse with disuse. He struggled to both maintain his balance and keep track of the strokes as her blows became fiercer. By the time she landed her hand on him for the final time, his rear was glowing red and he was shaking.

Samara ran her hand over his ass, admiring her work. 'My sweet boy, you must be ready to explode.'

The boy, still bent over, nodded.

'I'm going to cover you back up,' Samara told him, getting to work on covering him. 'Then we're going to show Aimee what Val hates and you adore.'

The boy squirmed with excitement. He knew what was coming. Samara smiled at his delight. One of her favourite attributes in a man was enthusiasm for sex, and the boy had that in spades.

'Stand up,' Samara ordered the boy.

He straightened his back. He was now fully enclosed in his suit again, and his hands were in front of his crotch, handcuffed together. Samara led him to the wall, raised his hands above his head, and looped the metal chain of the handcuffs over a bolt in the wall. As her boy was short for a man, his arms were fully outstretched.

Samara glanced over at Aimee. 'I'm going to ruin an orgasm. Don't do this to Val unless you genuinely want to anger him.'

Aimee nodded mutely.

Samara set to work revealing the boy's cock again. The front of her lace panties were soaked with his precum, and when she freed his cock out the side of them, he quivered with pleasure.

She set to work, quickly masturbating her boy to orgasm. He thrust into her hands desperately. He knew he was going to get no joy out of the climax, but he was certainly keen to relish the lead up.

'You can speak when you cum,' she told him. 'You can say whatever you want, just make it loud. Make sure Aimee can hear what a desperate little whore you are.'

The boy nodded. His shut his eyes and swallowed hard. He was edging closer and closer to orgasm. His thrusts were becoming jagged and rough. He was right on the edge. Samara watched him carefully. She had to watch her timing. He was close, but he needed something to push him over the edge. With her spare hand, she reached and fondled his balls.

That did it; that was enough. She took her hands away, stood back and watched as her leather clad boy, chained to the wall, came.

'Fuck me, fuck me, fuck me,' he boy yelled. 'Fuck me, Mistress, touch it, fuck me, fuck me. Oh fuck, fucking touch me, please just touch my fucking cock. Oh goddamn. Goddamn. Touch my cock, please touch my cock.'

The handcuffs strained against the bolt in the wall as he screamed. Thick white semen spurted from his cock. It was the ultimate in humiliation and disappointment for a sad little whore like the boy. Samara observed the show with a sense of self satisfaction, and when he'd finally finished his mad, frustrated little dance, she glanced over at Aimee.

'What do you think?' Samara asked her.

Aimee had been staring wide-eyed at the boy. Her pupils were dilated. Samara recognised the expression on the redhead's face. Arousal. Val's girlfriend was neither as innocent nor as prudish as Val had guessed.

'I want you to show me where to find out what Val likes,' Aimee said. 'If the offer's still open.'

Samara smiled proudly. 'Of course it is. Just don't tell him about this, just yet. He's worried about you being corrupted. We can hardly having him know it's too late for that, can we?'

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

Aimee watched Val shower. He had an incredible body, and he obviously enjoyed her looking at him, because he had a decent erection.

He turned to her and smiled. 'Thanks for coming tonight. I'm sorry I was stuck in the kitchen. Miles really has to learn to tell people they missed the RSVP date, rather than letting them rock up on the night.'

'How many extras were there?' she asked.

'Eight. You can tell someone's never worked in a kitchen when they think there's no real difference between catering for fourteen, and catering for twenty-two.'

'You did an amazing job. Everyone was commenting on it.'

'Well, I'm glad. There was no food left over and I was worried someone was going to ask for seconds.'

Val lathered himself with soap. He was hot and tired and sweaty. The minute desserts had been finished, he'd collected her, packed her up, and driven them both home. She'd been disappointed; by that stage, she was having some good conversations with Oliver and Samara, and she'd wanted him to join them. She'd enjoyed herself far more than she'd imagined possible.

'Do you always cook for those parties?' she asked.

'No, only about fifty percent of the time. Miles gets everyone to chip in for catering and booze and a cleaner to tidy up the next day...'

'...I was supposed to pay?' she interrupted.

'No, because I do a lot of catering, I don't pay and neither does anyone I might bring as a guest,' he reassured her. 'That's the deal. If I'm not catering, Miles will hire someone in, but that costs a huge chunk. It ends up making it more expensive for everyone. That's why I agree to cook; it makes it cheaper for everyone, and I get to pretend I'm a chef.'

'What does Miles get out of this arrangement?' she asked.

'He gets to show off his house,' Val replied. 'It's pretty impressive, isn't it? You should hear what it cost him.'

Aimee shrugged. 'It felt like a museum.'

He rinsed the soap off his body. 'Just as we were leaving, someone pulled me aside and said you looked upset shortly after you arrived. Is that true? Can I ask what happened?'

'It was nothing. I ran into one of your ex's, Linda. She made a bit of a comment. It was nothing, really, and Oliver and Samara were good to me about it.'

Val's body tensed. 'Linda? Linda said something to you?'

'Uh, yeah,' she admitted. She forced a laugh. 'It was nothing.'

Val didn't accept that as an answer. 'Tell me.'

'She, um, made some comment about your standards dropping now that you were interested in having children.'

His face contorted. 'Well, she's wrong. She's a jealous old bitch. She obviously feels threatened by you, which is pretty typical of her, so she decided to get mouthy. I'm sorry she did that. I'm sure she's still there, so I'll just get dressed and go over and see her.'

He rinsed off the soap, stepped out of the shower and reached for a towel. Aimee realised he was serious; he fully intended to go over and talk to her.

'No!' Aimee flushed. 'Please don't. It's embarrassing enough she made me cry. It's the wrong time of the month. If you go over there, I'm going to look like some wussy little girl who needs a man to look after her. I'm not giving her that satisfaction. Besides, your friends are there. Don't ruin their night.'

He stopped drying himself and stared her straight in the eye. 'Aimee, I'm not letting her talk to you like that. And don't worry about me making a scene, or upsetting people. I won't do either, and at any rate, I don't care if I do. She was right about one thing; I want a family. I want to get married and hopefully have some kids. That doesn't mean I don't care who I do it with; I do. I absolutely care. I know this sounds really forward, but I'm hoping you're that person. I've had a big think about this tonight. I'm going to leave that scene behind. I want to focus on my future.'

Aimee was floored. 'You're telling me that you're perfectly happy with vanilla sex?'

'Yes. Isn't that obvious? I love sex with you. I love fucking you. I love you sitting on my face. I love the way you suck my cock. Why do you think I need anything else?'

'Uh, because you've always hinted at it?' she suggested incredulously. 'Because you just took me to a party for your kinky friends?'

He sighed and towelled himself off. 'And it was a mistake.'

That was the last way Aimee would have described it. She thought back to Samara and her boy. The suit the boy wore. His vulnerability. His utter trust and devotion. She'd been both terrified and aroused during the scene. She'd been wondering all evening how to raise what she's witnessed with Val.

'Samara told me where I could find out what you like,' she countered bravely. 'I was going to have a look.'

'No,' he snapped. 'Don't.'

'Why not?'

'Because it's over.' He stalked out of the bathroom. 'It's over. I don't want to discuss this. I'm going to get dressed and go and see Linda. Hopefully whoever parked you in will have left and I'll be able to pick up your car.'

She followed him into his bedroom. He was getting dressed; pulling on jeans and a tee shirt, even though he was still damp. The material clung to his body invitingly.

'What about what I want?' she asked lightly. 'Did you ever think I might want to try some kinky stuff with you?'

He smiled quickly and kissed her. 'Trust me, you don't. You don't have the personality. I've known it from the get-go. I was just selfish. Stuck in my ways. I didn't realise I could have a sex life without any kink. You've changed that.'

And you've changed me, she reflected silently. I want to try things. I want to tie you up. I want to force you to do what I want. And, in return, I want to let you do those things to me. I don't want to be like Kyle and Samara; I want flexibility. She wondered if she should tell him what she'd done with Samara and the boy. No. No, she couldn't. Samara would get angry, and the last thing Aimee wanted was to get his friends offside.