Switch, Ch. 03

Simon Says: Last chapter. Hope you enjoyed the ride. Happy reading. 🙂

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Caroline was sitting at a table where the hotel served the complimentary breakfast. She wore a black skirt, one that came to just above her knees, and a white blouse, her sandy hair pulled back and tied behind her neck. She looked elegant and professional.

I grabbed fruit and some muffins and sat across from her. She looked up and gave me a small smile, “good morning.”

“Good morning, Caroline. Feeling ok?”

She gave me a long look, “I am feeling different,” but then added very quietly, “sir.” Her eyes sparkled at me. I was glad she was enjoying parts of this.

“So, all was GOOD last night?” I emphasized to her.

“Yes, all good,” she said, “but a bit restless sleep as a result,” she almost mumbled to herself.

I nodded. I liked this coded talk.

She shifted a bit in her seat, I smiled at her and she blushed. This was how the day was going to go.

We finished breakfast and took a car to the client. Much of the day was spent in meetings, collecting further requirements and adjustments, listening to concerns voiced about the current project and about potential future work.

We spent the day side-by-side, and I felt great pleasure every time she shifted in her seat. Most of the shifts were followed by our eyes connecting knowingly, then followed by a brief look of embarrassment crossing her face.

Our last meeting of the day was with the client’s IT staff again, but mostly it’s leadership. They were largely happy and very appreciative of our immediate actions addressing any concerns. This trip thus far was proving to be a professional win.

Personally? The same.

As we got ready to leave, with us standing in front of the elevators, one of the IT managers innocently asked quickly, “oh do you have everything you brought with you?”

Caroline stood closely next to me. Inspired I suppose, my hand slid over to rest on her ass as I responded, causing Caroline to jump a tiny bit in surprise, “yes, everything I own is with me. Thanks for checking.” I heard Caroline exhale.

We stepped into the elevator. The only other person with us exited on the fifth floor.

As soon as the door closed, Caroline whispered without looking at me, “were you feeling, um, possessive of me? Just now?’

“Yes.”

She nodded, “would I be completely weird to love having your hand on my ass like that? Um, possessively?”

“I would say not.”

“Thank you, sir.”

And then the elevator doors opened.

We ate at a small restaurant near the client’s building, one recommended by the head of IT in the last meeting. It ended up being a nice little Italian place.

We didn’t talk too much. Mostly about the client, the success, but also what needed to happen once we returned to our office. We acted mostly normally — just an occasional adjustment of seating by her causing what I know must have been obvious amusement by me followed by either pleasure or embarrassment or a mixture of the two.

We took a car back to the hotel and rode up the elevator. She stopped at her room.

“Show me your arm please.”

She immediately held out her watch, getting what I wanted.

“Fifteen minutes. By 8:30 or the window is shut. Your choice, for now. Understand?”

“Yes sir. I do.” She seemed antsy at that moment.

I turned and opened my door. I took off my jacket, set up my laptop for later and quickly checked messages on my phone.

At exactly fifteen minutes, I heard a knock. She had not changed.

She nodded her head and quickly came into the room, kneeling down in her spot in front of the bed. I couldn’t help but smile.

I leaned on the dresser behind her, “so tell me how you are doing since we spoke last night.”

She paused for just a moment, “a little less confused, but still a bit . . .”

“Please go on.”

“Being slightly uncomfortable all day was both tough and, um, exciting. I kinda loved it. Like I was doing something forbidden but for you.” She blushed again. Making her tell me these things seemingly both excited her and embarrassed her. I loved that combination.

“And last night, after maybe processing things . . .” I wanted her to process it honestly, so I gave her a little reprieve by not being in front of her.

“Uh yeah. That was exciting and tough. Like my mind was arguing with my heart.” She paused. “I have to be honest. I was, well, I was good when I sent you the text. But then I . . .”

She stopped. I wasn’t going to let her off the hook, so I waited.

“I . . . touched myself. But then I stopped! I felt the need to stop myself.”

“Why did you break my rule after sending the text?”

“I was very, like very aroused by the brief exchange. You calling me a ‘good girl’ really sent a jolt through my body.”

“I see. And why did you stop yourself?”

“Because I wanted to please you. Sir.”

I moved to sit in front of her. Her face revealed her stress. I certainly didn’t want her to experience discomfort, but I think this little battle for her probably proved very revealing in her processing of all of this.

“So now you wish you hadn’t?”

She nodded, “yes sir.”

I loosened my tie, unbuttoned my top button of my shirt, and started rolling up my sleeves, her eyes locked onto my hands, maybe even showing she was turned on.

“Stand up please.”

She immediately stood up.

“Caroline, remove your skirt please.”

She paused for just a beat, staring at me, but then reached behind her and unzipped. I watched her shimmy the form fitting and quite flattering skirt down her hips, thighs and onto the floor. She stepped out of her skirt.

She was wearing no panties, as expected. Her shirt did not quite cover her lap, so my eyes were in line with a crop of very light sandy brown hair peeking out from between her pressed-together thighs. I looked up at her eyes, which betrayed some serious embarrassment.

“Lay across me please.”

She didn’t hesitate. She laid across my lap, her ass barely visible beneath her shirt. I slid my hand up her leg, her thigh, and pushed the shirt up as I brought my palm up and over her cheek. She didn’t protest.

Finally, I lifted her shirt enough that her entire bottom and waist were exposed. I felt myself getting hard. While I wasn’t into pain, I was a bit into spanking, and I was very much into the look of feminine vulnerability.

“Count out. We are going to ten this time.”

“Ok.”

“Eleven now.”

“Yes sir. Eleven.”

“Good girl.”

I rubbed her cheek a bit more. I could see a little hint of pink left over from the previous night.

Slap. “One.”

I chose to slap a little harder tonight. But I really wanted to gauge her reactions. Her cheeks jiggled just a little bit as a result of my slap, but not much else of a reaction. Interesting.

Slap. “Two.”

She tried to stay still, but the second slap forced her to do a brief squirm. I liked seeing her move in my lap. My actions, her reactions. Uncontrolled.

Slap. “Three, sir.”

Her lower belly actually moved forward into my lap. I could feel myself getting harder. There was a slight connection there, which brought a bit of pleasure to me.

A gentle rub, followed by a slap. “Four.”

Her fingers then gripped the comforter on the bed. It was becoming more intense for her. And for me. My semi-hard cock was under her belly.

Slap. “Five, sir.” Her voice began wavering. I felt more urgency. This created an extremely erotic experience for me. Her laying across my lap was both sexy and very alluring.

Slap. “Six, sir.” She gave out a small yelp as she reported the number. Her hips shifted.

Rub and slap. Another yelp. “Seven, sir.” Her belly pressed into my now hard dick.

Her cheeks were already reddening. Even with my alternating between the two, I could see the impact. Not bruising. Just a pink-ish light red color.

I rubbed again, feeling a little heat rising from her skin. Slap. “Eight.” Her body began to jolt a bit more. Each movement pressed into my hardening member, giving me small jolts of extra pleasure. She had let out another sound this time, too. Not a yelp of surprise, but a small vocalization in the back of her throat. Maybe the beginning of a moan.

Slap. “Nine.”

The small pain must be there. Her body jolted and her ass cheeks clenched as her voice strained a bit. Now her belly rubbed against the head of my dick. She had to have noticed. I wanted to quickly slap her twice more and then just take her right there, but I knew I needed to take my time a little, mostly for her.

So, I slowly rubbed her skin. She sighed beneath the palm of my hand. I loved how her smooth and soft skin felt, heat emanating. The attraction for me of course was the vulnerability, but also that the overriding feeling was my control of it all. She belonged to me at that point. Her pretty ass was in front of me because it was mine.

She had given it to me.

And I wanted to take it completely.

Slap. Squirm and jolt. “Ten!” I was at the same stage as at the party, the need to fuck and to fuck hard.

I forced myself to rub her skin again. Her breathing had increased. Her fingers gripped the comforter even more feverishly.

Slap. Her body pressed hard against me, her stomach pressing hard against my painfully erect dick.

She paused before speaking. “Eleven.” She said through clenched teeth.

She didn’t move, staying on my lap. I couldn’t take any more.

I grabbed her waist, lifted her, and then set her face down on the bed.

“Don’t move.” She didn’t. No reaction at all.

I unbuckled my pants, pulled out my dick and moved up behind her.

A portion of me wanted to wait, to build this slowly, but I was in an erotically charged haze. I wanted, well I needed to put my dick inside of her.

She didn’t turn back. Her breathing was heavy. She remained on her stomach on the bed, looking forward.

I climbed up behind her, gripped her hips and lifted them, the head of my dick literally pressed against her labia. “Are you choosing to give me control?” I somehow managed to ask through gritted teeth.

“Yes,” she quietly replied without hesitation.

My dick immediately slid inside of her warm and extremely soaked pussy. She let out a long moan, her hands gripped the comforter as she kept her face, chest and arms against the bed. Her ass slightly raised, I began pumping hard into her.