Switch - a full length bdsm erotic novel by Clique Clarice

Author:Clique, Clarice [Clique, Clarice]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Xcite Books
Published: 2012-11-18T00:00:00+00:00

Chapter Nine - Bottom

The main thing, the only thing, which resonated with me from the things I researched about being a dominatrix was that a mistress could do whatever she wanted, wear what she wanted, say what she wanted. All that she had to do was feel confident in herself and retain control of her sometimes unruly slave.

Apparently some male subs got off on being naughty then getting disciplined. I wondered if the one who had attached himself to me was like that. But no, his mistakes came from carelessness rather than purpose. Unless it was subconscious. He said he felt no guilt for what he was doing, that his play with mistresses did not infringe on his Church life. The Christian part of him could be rebelling, though, doing things wrong to try and be rejected so that his darker desires would be left unrequited and he could return to being what he seemed; a good Christian soldier, an upright citizen in a socially responsible job.

He told me I wasn’t like any other mistress he’d encountered online in the perfection I demanded. His slips were in things like asking a question without obtaining permission first, revealing something in one of his online chatrooms about his relationship with me, looking into my face, generally annoying me with a smug comment.

He had done all the punishments I’d given him. He’d emailed me photos of his long trip up to John O’Groats, him naked on the beach, the writing in the sand: “I AM A COCK-LOVING SLUT”. He’d danced in the middle of the town centre. He’d rolled around in nettles. He’d drunk a cold cup of tea with his own spunk replacing milk.

Why was I worrying about his subconscious desires? It was supposed to be easy.

On my bedside cabinet The Mistress Handbook had been replaced with Dante’s Divine Comedy. I permitted Slave to call me Beatrice. According to Wikipedia Dante may have only met his Beatrice twice and from that she became his lifelong muse. Did Slave know what courtly love was? The idolisation of an unknowable woman.

There was no mysterious subconscious at work in my orders to Slave: read the classics, memorise poetry, recite Shakespeare to me. Go to art galleries, be creative, stop following football, watch BBC4 instead. In the car with him, when we’d only met a couple of times, I asked, ‘Have you ever had any fantasies about being the dom?’

‘No. I don’t think so, mistress.’

‘You’ve never wanted to do anything like spank a woman?’

‘No, mistress. I’ve never had any thoughts like that. The idea of spanking someone does nothing for me.’

‘But if you were going to dom a woman, what would you do? Pretend you’re my master now, what would you say to me?’

A sideway glance. ‘Oh mistress, I couldn’t do that.’ Giggles. Then an attempt at a serious expression and a stern voice. ‘You will suck my cock now.’

I laughed.

He laughed.

That night when I gave him permission to phone me, he said, ‘Mistress, I’ve been thinking about what you said in the car earlier.

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