Switch (Twisted)

"Kiss my feet," I mutter to the red skinned, thoroughly whipped man kneeling in front of me. He's sweating and panting heavily. He also isnt moving fast enough. I tug on the chain attached to the black leather collar around his neck. He groans.

"Yes Mistress," He leans down and slowly lifts my size 5, thigh high, leather boot into the air and trails small kisses from the tip to where my boot stops. He works his way back down and I switch legs, making him do the the same to my other foot. When I'm satisfied, I wind the chain around my hand, slowly bring him up to where I sit on the red leather couch in my fortress.

His blue eyes shine with lust. His bubblegum lips are parted slightly as he takes heavy breath. His chest is red from being flogged. Its a gorgeous color that I think every male should get aquainted with.

Keeping the chain tight around my hand, I lean into him. "Oh Pet, you treat me so well," His eyes shine brighter. "Kiss me." He leaps up in a rush but I restrain him. I graze my red nails down his already welting flesh. "Slowly." I whisper. His excitement increases further and I can see his erection thickening between his legs.

I pull his face to mine and capture his lips. Slowly claiming and dominating him more than I already have today. He groans and moves his hands to grab my hair. I swat his back with the artfully made riding crop that I hung loosely in my left hand. He groans and shudders, hardening even more. "Have you forgotten the rules pet?" His face falls.

"No Mistress. I just got excited." I pull the chain and his eyes meet mine again. He's guilty because he knows rule number one: Never touch my fucking hair. I give him a stern look and grit my teeth.

"I think we may need to run through the rules again, your defiance is getting old." I nod my head to the right. "On the cross," I release him from the chain but he still wears the collar. He jumps up and scurries anxiously across the room to the Saint Andrews cross against the wall. Derek Wilson is a big guy, 6'4 and 250 pounds of cut muscle.

He doesnt look like the type of man who would enjoy spanking, whipping, being cropped, and flogged, tied up and blind folded. He has dark hair, striking blue eyes, high sculptured cheekbones and killer abs. He has power in the real world but here... Here he's nothing, noone, he's mine and I tell him who to be, what to be, when, and where.

I wear the pants and I've worn them well for the last two years. "Back against the cross," I order as I stand up. He spins around and puts his back against the cold, black wood. "Arms up, legs out," He complies without hesitation. I walk over and snap his wrists and ankles, I make sure I brush my body across his rock hard flesh that seems to get larger and with each word and touch.

"What are you going to do with me Mistress?" He pants clearly antisipating his punishment. I shrug and turn around as I walk over to the play chest in the corner of the room.

"Nothing you dont deserve," I mutter. I grab my favorite whip from the top drawer. Its made from kangaroo and the handle is made from red oak. "I want you to recite the rules so I know you havent forgotten them."

"Yes, Mistress." He says as his breathing increases further.

"You remember the safe words dont you?" I ask looking over my shoulder at him. He nods his head. "Lose your voice Dereck?"

"No Mistress, I'm still just a little excited." I can see his excitement. The way he's squirming against the cross, his labored breathing, the sheen of sweat coating his muscular frame, oh yes, he's excited.

"What are the safe words Derek?" I ask again remaining as calm as I can be. I hate when men lose their train of thought because theyre too caught up in the moment to pay attention.