Free Erotic Stories

The Switch

My name is Kathleen. Professionally, I’m “Mistress K.” You may instantly disapprove of me but I’m the best Dominant in this city and I have the bank account and high-end client list to prove it. However with that success, is the reality that I’m also terribly lonely in my personal life and I’ve been hoping and praying that my one and only will someday come along.

Because of a prior bad breakup and because I have been too busy with my customers, I haven’t been involved emotionally with anyone for a very long time. Brief sexual liaisons seem to come and go. Now, here I am standing in the middle of my living room, still in my corset and thigh-high boots, after a casual date with a husband and wife couple, wondering how did tonight’s encounter go so wrong.

All my hope and longing for finding that perfect woman to compliment me may have just walked out that front door a few minutes ago. That beautiful, loving woman excites me and shimmers with a rare quality not very obvious today: bountiful kindness. She has gentle sapphire eyes, soft luscious pillowy lips, pointy smooth titties, and a thrilling and caressing tongue that gives me goosebumps. And her husband? Well, he isn’t an awful douche-bag, but with him, I fucked up! As soon as I realized that I was totally smitten with Mary Ellen and had decided that I wanted her in my life permanently, the last thing I saw of her was the both of their backs hurriedly walking out of my front door. Immediately, I texted to say that I was sorry and that I’d do ANYTHING if they would just come back.

My iPhone is still showing no reply to my message.

How did I let things get so sideways? I’m usually the one in complete control of each encounter. Yes, I now believe that Mary Ellen is THE WOMAN who could fill the bill for me emotionally. She seems to “get me” and from the moment that we first met, she communicated with me like a long lost lover. However, there is one evident fact that I shouldn’t have casually overlooked: though she and Lorenzo are experienced swingers, Mary Ellen is totally devoted to her husband and they only play together. There’s no slip of daylight between them. That’s what I’d been hoping there might be. Was it realistic for me to think that I could somehow maneuver myself between them?

Sure, I can see how Lorenzo would be a little upset with what had just recently occurred. In my defense, however, I have found that a large percentage of men secretly wish to be feminized. I did a great job earlier tonight of introducing that novelty to him. A lot of successful men want to relinquish being in charge and have paid me a lot of money to dominate them. However, sex drunk as I was on Mary Ellen, I hadn’t paid the proper attention to him, nor given him any aftercare.

Still no message on my phone. “Fuck!”

Oh, I recognize this sinking feeling I’m having now. My eyes are wet. This hasn’t happened to me in a long time. I feel on the verge of sobbing. No, please, not this time!

Nope, nothing on the phone still.

What the fuck was his problem anyway? Couldn't he take a little degradation and ass play? Okay, fuck him, he is a sissy for not being able to take it like a woman does all the time.

Still no message on the phone. Fuck dignity! I’ll text her again.

PLEASE MARY ELLEN!!!

I WILL DO ANYTHING. ANYTHING! PLEASE COME BACK.

I’LL MAKE IT UP TO YOU. I PROMISE! PLEASE! PLEASE, COME BACK!

I can’t believe that I’m doing this. This never works in real life. Twelve long years since I’ve had a real relationship. Fuck! I want her more than ever.

Nothing on the phone, nothing fuck! Am I really shaking and trembling? “Please God, please!”

Nothing on the phone. Tears are flowing freely down my cheeks. Oh gawd, Is this me sobbing?

My phone’s vibrating!

WE R TURNING AROUND. B THERE IN 5 MIN. KEEP YOUR WORD!!!

Ahhhh! Exhilaration is coursing through my body. What can I do to atone? What would make them genuinely see that I desperately want a second chance? My head is spinning. ”I know!” I mutter. Suddenly I’m bounding downstairs to the basement dungeon. Zippers unravel and boots are cast into a corner. Barefoot I step over to my steel rack where paddles, whips and riding crops are hanging. With an expert eye I choose a short crop. The weight and balance in my hand don’t feel suitable. “Not good enough.” Back it goes. Another, and I pull it down. I’ve very rarely used this one. This one makes a frightening crack when it strikes flesh. If the sound was not disturbing enough, it also bites into flesh like a junkyard dog. “Yes, uh-huh.” and I nod my head. I will offer myself up to be punished and this one will certainly do it in a very serious way. Clutching it in my hand I begin to ascend the stairs and stop two steps up and slowly back down. What is it that caught my eye and told my brain to stop?

There it is. Hanging on a hook is the collar that I had found in a BDSM shop on Folsom Street in San Francisco several years back. It had been advertised as a “Forever Collar”. It had caught my eye before I had even read the signage. It silently spoke of its gravitas. It was black with rhinestone beading that spelled out FOREVER. I fell in love with it instantly back then, and purchased it. I had hoped over these long years that I would find someone who would wear it faithfully and proudly; be my forever sub. That person, who bore that significance, had never come around until now maybe. Could it be that this whole time it was destined for Mary Ellen? “Yes.” I clasp it into my left hand and resume my climb up the stairs, and run back into the living room. I open the front door wide and feel the cool, lingering, night air. Kneeling on the floor, I set the two articles in front of me, and I assume the pose of a submissive with my eyes cast downward.

The noises from outside pour into my living room. I can hear a nearby bus turn the corner like an old man getting up from his easy chair. Footsteps click on the pavement as people hurry past. Far away I hear an apartment door creak and shut. Which car is theirs? There’s one looking for a nearby parking space. Several go by without stopping. There’s one slowing and making a U-turn? Two car doors open and close. Oh God, please let this be Mary Ellen and Lorenzo! Clicking footsteps indicate that they are on the walk up to my house. They step up and heels hit the bricks. A rap announces them entering the door frame and a lilting, ”Hello!”

Keeping my eyes lowered, I reach out, grab the crop and offer it up in open hands above my head for chastisement. Nobody moves. I await them. Mary Ellen snatches the riding crop. I am relieved it is her. She quickly turns to Lorenzo and says forcefully, “You must hit her like this.” and at the end of that sentence, instantly turns and delivers a backhand smack to my right thigh that I’m not yet expecting.

“Shit!” I curse. “I wasn’t ready!” I turn, and place my face sideways upon the sofa and offer my butt up for punishment. Wait, did she tell Lorenzo to hit me? No, I don’t want him hitting me. Please not him!

Mary Ellen turns back to Lorenzo and thrusts the crop into his hands. “Hit her like I just did.” Lorenzo hesitates but then delivers a soft backhand to my left buttocks. Smack! There’s a silence and it seems as if Mary Ellen’s eyes bug out imploring him to man-up and strike me more forcefully. Again he backhands my butt only measurably harder. Not to worry, this guy is such an amateur. “HIT her harder!” She spits. I hear Lorenzo gently shove Mary Ellen sideways. He pivots on his left foot and delivers a crack across my right cheek. Sure it hurts but I’m not going to give him the satisfaction of knowing it. No way! I feel the crop touch me slightly as he measures the distance to the target. He feels for the balance in his hand. I brace myself mentally for a much harder blow. Instantaneously, pain spasms through my entire being. I cannot control my reaction as he’s smacked one of his best racquetball smashes. Halfway aware, I realize that it is me who is yelping, cursing and shouting Mary Ellen’s safe word over and over repeatedly.

The effect? A structural crack and stinging, stinging humiliation I’ve not felt since I was a child. The mortar and bricks of my emotional wall tumble down. Seemingly, I’m dancing and wailing. Mary Ellen dives to me and circles her left arm around my waist and pulls my head with her other to her shoulder in consolation. She’s sobbing but not uncontrollably as I am. “Get her a wet washcloth with some ice!" He retreats into the kitchen and grabs a kitchen towel and the clickety clackety sounds like he is filling a towel and wetting it. Mary Ellen kisses me all over softly and rubs my back. Her fingertips caress my forehead and then smooth the pain from my butt. He returns back to the living room. He dabs at the reddening marks that are angrily rising on my body. Mary Ellen applies, as salve, soft sweet kisses and tears cascade from my cheeks.

With my wall in shambles, I compose myself enough to talk and make sense. I look into Mary Ellen’s deep blue eyes and apologize. I tell her that I had become caught up in emotions like never before. She says, “I know honey. Me too.” She kisses me with her wet tongue tracing my lips. Once again my inner longing pushes me to “chance it all” and confess how I truly feel about her.

For the first time in a long, long time I am completely honest about everything and pour out my heart. My tears show her the truth of what I’m saying. I explain my intention of giving them both a first rate experience because I had been falling for her during our phone conversations and lengthy texts prior to tonight. I hope now that she will be my steady, long-term lover. I go on to tell her that in my experience, many men want to be dominated and that I had hoped that Lorenzo would also enjoy it enough to want to be my sub. I tell them that I have not had a loving relationship in the last twelve years. And also of my fantasy that Mary Ellen is the one that would someday come along. With my self-esteem hovering at floor level, I don’t care if Lorenzo hears all of this. Seizing the moment, I boldy state that my wish is that she wear my collar. I arise slowly and retrieve the Forever Collar. Beyond shame, I hand the collar to Mary Ellen to hold and inspect.

And then I am done. I stop talking. I look up to Lorenzo so that he can see the honesty in my face. I truly don’t know what I expect to see on his. Anger? Pity maybe? Mary Ellen sits motionless and then sighs. Then hands the collar back to me without saying the words I desperately want to hear. My heart begins sinking like the Titanic. “That will not happen.” she says. “ I am already submissive to my husband. No one can faithfully serve two masters.” Totally disappointed and openly weeping again, I can think of nothing more than to nod my head in complete, mind-numbing hopelessness. Mary Ellen then continues on but with a slow, gravely serious voice; as if she is speaking to a child to convey an important point, “The only way that I can see anything happening close to what you want, is if you were to ask Lorenzo to collar you.”

I am dumbstruck. I stammer, “What? Huh? That...what did you say?” Was she saying that there was some possibility of us having a relationship? But wait, huh? Except for this moment of subservience, I've always been the dominant one. When I started out, the person that mentored me and showed me how to do all of this tried to make me their sub. Finally frustrated, they realized that I am a Dom by nature. I can’t change who I am. I can’t be what I’m not. Returning her gaze I say, “You know what I do. Do you think I could maintain a shred of my dignity being a sub? No, it would never work. Me being a sub would be impossible!”

After a very long silence where time seems to stop, she spoke again, “Don’t you have a desire to pursue this adventure with me, with us? I think you do. Surely you can find SOME way to do it.” She pauses a beat and then, “In your text you DID say that you’d do ANYTHING!” She locates her purse and pulls out her phone. With her polished nails, she taps in a four digit code and turns it for me to read. Gut punched, she makes me choke on my own words. There it is: ANYTHING. Like an owl, she gazes unblinkingly at me. My head spins. I can’t think. I am now seemingly caught in a snare by the foxy Mary Ellen. It seems too unreal. If I want to have any future relationship with her, I would have to go against my own nature and which is in conflict with everything that I’ve built up over the last twenty years: submission.

Beyond all of that, there is this other thing that I have never ever considered and it seems too far-fetched. I laugh at the absurdity, I would have to submit to Lorenzo: a man! “No.” I’ve had very generous, long-time clients with whom I’ve had sex but only on my terms. I’ve used them as sex toys. After many sessions, and a lot of money, I’ve sucked some as reward. Even with some of my most trusted male clients, I’ve allowed their condom covered cocks into my pussy. There’s nothing wrong with that. Though I was well compensated for my time, after the session, I was just using them for my own pleasure: a living dildo. With Lorenzo, this would be different. A man would be permitted unfettered access to USE me. I’ll never accept it like my mother did. Being dominated is one thing, being dominated by a man is repugnant to me.

“I want to see where this all goes.” she says. “Maybe we’re destined to be, I think the word is, a thruple?” She looks over at Lorenzo, back to me, and continues, “I want you to do this... I want this.” she murmurs. “Don’t you want to please me?” So here I am at this standpoint with toes at the edge of a cliff. I look around for a lifeline to get what I want; without surrendering my essence. Submit? And to a man? It is too foreign! Mary Ellen nods at me to go on, hand the Forever Collar to her husband and ask him to collar me. I gulp for air. I am having difficulty breathing. Where did I put my inhaler? Mary Ellen nods again silently. She whispers, “You said you’d do anything.” She arches an eyebrow and looks me in the eye and says, “Lorenzo, why are we here if she’s not going to keep her word?”

I am at a loss, desperately I look around, I sense that the clock is too quickly ticking down. Mary Ellen may bolt again. Unable to see another path, like a whipped dog, I crawl on my hands and knees to where Lorenzo is now sitting. Bowing my head, I extend my arms and offer him the collar. I can hardly say it without gagging, “Master, please collar me.” I’m still trying to figure out in my head an escape clause. I lock eyes with his wife. He looks over at her.

“Collar her.” she says straight away.

He opens it and then fits it around my neck as Mary Ellen gathers my hair and holds it up in her hands above my head. This can’t be happening. Seriously, I won’t be able to do this? Lorenzo finds a suitable hole and firmly shoves the stainless steel rod into it. The symbolism is not lost on me. I cannot fucking believe it!

Mary Ellen leaps to her feet and dances while pulling me up, she hollers to the moon and kisses me roughly. She cries tears of joy. Turned on but bewildered, I too am crying but tears of astonishment.

Lorenzo clears his throat. “There's still the matter of what you did to me tonight without my consent. If it had been a man who had done that to a woman without her consent, both of you ladies would have had a shit-fit. Well…….” his voice trails off. “Well now it is time for both of you to be punished for your misdeeds.”

“She’s already been punished!” protests Mary Ellen. “She’s making this sacrifice!” Lorenzo‘s face is determined and set. I saw this look flash on his face earlier, before they both stormed out. Oh gawd, this is typical cis male behavior. I have seen this face on men before but have always been able to talk it through successfully.

Trying to take control again, as a Dom, I keep my voice steady and say, “Talk to me, you have my permission to tell me what the real problem is and I’ll fix it if I can. Use your words.”

Dismissively, he grabs the collar, turns me forcefully, and bends me back over the couch. I’m not used to being manhandled like this and I begin to resist when powerful arms hold me down. I’m not at all surprised by his tactics. “You know the rules!” he says. Even though it chaffs every nerve in my body, I ultimately comply because I do happen to know the rules. Then Lorenzo throws Mary Ellen down next to me. I sense that this may have happened to her before and I am uneasy. Face to face with her, I can see the look in her eyes that tells me that she knows that her husband is not in the mood to be crossed at this time. Looking for a clue, I see her raise her derrière at him in sacrifice.

“Hit me but don’t hit her!” she demands.

Lorenzo weighs the crop in his hand. He lifts her skirt. He measures the distance to his target. He whips the crop and it snaps sharply across Mary Ellen’s fleshy butt. Temporarily, she can’t breathe and her shocked face shows embarrassment mixed with deep anger. She gasps, rises to her feet, grins a very unfriendly smile and then shakes her head in a manner that threatens and suggests a future, private, confrontation that he will most definitely regret. “Just wait motherfucker!” Taken aback slightly, he acknowledges the look and steps a pace to the left and administers the same blow to me. Stunned with the indignity more than actual pain, I jump up and my eyes shoot daggers. Like I had always thought, this submissive shit is not for me. I will find a way out of this arrangement. This is NOT who I am.

The prick sets his jaw, points the crop at us, and shakes it for emphasis. He growls, “Remember this and never let it happen again!” Oh, I get it, he thinks he’s reclaiming his balls. He’d better watch his back.

Contemptuously, he turns Mary Ellen around to face him. He doesn’t let her go as he unbuckles his belt and frees a button, unzips and, places his hands behind her head and pulls her face to his crotch. Though slightly teary eyed, she acquiesces. She reaches up a cupped hand, gathers his testes delicately, encircles his limp cock with her lips, and begins to obediently suck him. When he is pulsing erect, he strips off her clothes and sits her on the couch. He pushes her back and positions her so that her knees are up adjacent to her ears. He then grabs me by my collar and guides my face into Mary Ellen's ripe smelling crotch. I don’t care that it is pungent from our earlier sex. I’m excited by her tangy fragrance.

With his muscular arms he circles my waist and places me so that I am on all fours. Mary Ellen wastes no time in scooting down further and elevating her hips with a pillow so that I can thoroughly tongue-fuck her open gaped pussy. I want every bit of it. She jerks and moans in appreciation of each of the sensations I am so happy to give her. Her hips rise up and point; communicating that she wants to delight in every stroke of my tongue. I am real, real gone.

I’d prefer to be left alone to give all of my attention to Mary Ellen but it isn’t difficult to predict that Lorenzo is going to interfere and stick his dick in me from behind. No surprise, he does. He positions himself on the floor behind me and rubs his cock all up and down my laser smooth slit. Next, he eases just the tip into my now dripping honey pot. He’s confident and assertive but not a barbarian. He parts my cheeks wide with his firm hands and pokes his wand in a little bit more. Then he backs out, pulling my sweetness with him and again pushes forward a little further. Oh, I don’t want to enjoy any of it but my fucking cunt betrays me by lathering up like a sweaty race horse. No hiding it. Fuck! I try again not to enjoy it but it is happening nonetheless. I suppose tortured and under duress, I might confess that it is beginning to feel really, really good.

Sexual adventure is my profession. I know more about it than this guy will ever know. My pussy informs my brain that this feels much better than I previously thought it would. That itch is definitely getting scratched. If this is the way it is going to go down, I am going to employ every trick to inform him that I am the best fuck he ever will have and that no way can he keep up with me. My hips twerk to drive home this suggestion. I’m not being fucked so much as I’m the one fucking his inadequate and disappointing little prick. Try as you might, sucker, you won’t be able to keep up!

I purposely try not to over-vocalize with my moaning and grunting. Okay but that one and that one, I can’t help but purr. My pulse is racing and my traitorous body is giving me away. This feels so much better than I want him to know. He has no clue that this is the first time I have ever had unprotected sex with a man. “Oh!” My body cannot tell a lie any further. “Yes, that there. Oh gawd!” Keep doing that! “Uh-huh! Uh-huh!” Have I lost my goddamn mind? I never would have imagined myself enjoying a man fucking me like this: as his possession.

Of the three of us, I’m not sure who is moaning the loudest. Mary Ellen, like a bronco-buster, is grabbing my hair, like reins, and riding my tongue on her clit. I’m being pounded intentionally, like a pile driver, from behind and my chin is bumping up against her sopping wet pussy. I purse my lips as cushions. I’m losing control of my tongue and pussy. Mary Ellen's entire pelvic area tastes deliciously sweet and creamy. It is smeared all over my face. She’s silently stiffening and her breathing is erratic. She cocks her head back and cries out, “Oh God. Oh God!” I’m on the verge of losing control when Lorenzo swears and I feel a spurt, then another, and another inside of me. Another first for me. A man has now cum in me. I’m on sensation-overload. I buckle! He lifts my hips and continues thrusting. Fuck, I need to straighten my legs. I scream like a soccer mom on Saturday night. Stars literally spin before my eyes.

Suddenly I’m whirled around and guided to quickly straddle Mary Ellen’s face. She begins lapping at the spunk exiting my vulva. Lorenzo stands on the coffee table and pushes his stiff erection into my mouth. Okay, I’ve never cleaned a man up before and I can’t say that I’m a fan of the taste. No worries, I chase it all with my tongue and I swallow as Lorenzo inspects every aspect of the job. Knowing I should do so, I look upward at him and he looks down approvingly. When I finish, he descends licking my lips, my face, and our tongues entwine as Mary Ellen tidies up below. The taste is not so bad this way. Shifting to the side, she then joins us and we all three share lingering kisses of semen and pussy juice.

Mary Ellen lays back down on the sofa, reaches for my hand, and guides me into position to sixty-nine. I cannot get enough of her either. I’m licking her yummy goodness again and she has my entire button in her mouth. I’m not going to let her get away and I force my tongue out past the point of it being comfortable. The sensuousness of her touch cements what I already seem to know: I will even suffer humiliation to be with her.

What the fuck now! He’s just circled round and round my butthole with a greasy finger. “No.” Holy shit this feels fantastic! This man knows where the buttons are located: and how and when to push them. No one can see my eyes bug out. All that I can see is Mary Ellen’s gorgeous thighs as my meat curtains are being pulled gently between her lips. Lorenzo’s finger is now in my ass. Oh fuck, leave me alone will ya? Slowly my butthole is being expanded. Sploosha, I hear. Wet drips on my sphincter; which cools temporarily with the application of more lube. Okay, shit, yep, that’s two fingers in, I say to myself as I try to continue to keep the pace with my tongue darting around Mary Ellen’s kitty.

I relax as the fingers exit but then there’s a dull pressure that returns. I lose it as it enters me. “Ugghhh! Oh, that hurts, stop!” He halts momentarily but doesn’t back out. Taken hostage, my sphincter reluctantly permits this backdoor intruder in. This trespasser takes advantage of my lust and advances a little more. “Uggghhh!” Then I surrender more. Mary Ellen continues to pull on my clit. His dick keeps moving forward until I feel his ball sack slap me. Mary Ellen says that she can’t breathe and moves out from under me. She puts her hand in my crotch and jacks me.

I’ve always been able to to handle anything. I have a sense of pride about that. However now, the beautiful Mary Ellen is pinching my tit with one hand and zealously fingering me with the other. And I’m being stuffed with a firm sausage down where the sun don’t shine. My anus and clit are like twins experiencing the same thrilling overload of shared, sweet sensation and I burst with the strongest, most intense orgasm I have ever had in my life. Lorenzo can’t handle any more either as he shoots ropes of jism deep into my asshole. Spurt! Spurt! Another first for me: sperm in the ol’ a-hole.

As if paralyzed, all three of us are floating on a cloud for a long time. In the middle, both of them occasionally caress me. Skin pressing skin, I am content and reluctant to end this moment of magic. The spell continues even though we are a goopy, sloppy mess of bodily fluids and lube. However, after a while, we can lay there no more. We hold hands and descended into the dungeon’s bathroom to shower. Willingly, I kiss Lorenzo for a long time to show him how much I am enjoying him. Then I kiss her in the same way. Then I kiss them again. I suck her tits and then his tits. Using a washcloth, I scrub his back and then her back. He takes it from me and returns the favor. I marvel at the side by side difference in woman and man. I wash his growing, beautiful cock and then wantonly suck it to show my appreciation of him and to signal my openness to a change of heart. Noticing this, Mary Ellen kneels and enthusiastically joins me. Giving a sensuous double blow job: need I mention that this is yet another first for me. There in the shower, waves of loving pleasure wash over me again and I feel more alive than ever.

Later, up in the kitchen, I reheat some pizza still boxed from earlier in the evening and I brew some gourmet coffee in my Keurig for their sleepy trip home. Mary Ellen makes me promise to come to their suburban house for a barbeque later that afternoon. Lorenzo instructs me to also bring a bathing suit and an extra change of clothes. Half teasingly I reply, “Yes Master. And is it your wish that I wear my collar too?” He cocks his head and raises his eyebrows. I shake my head slowly and he’s clued into my suggested response. He tells me to leave it at home. Mary Ellen grins approvingly at me and winks. Oh, I know that I’m going to be good at this game.

I watch and continue to wave goodbye as their dark pickup truck eases past the street sentinels casting their lights downward. Looking back on the evening, I had not fully envisioned everything that would occur tonight. I took a gigantic leap and went from a Dom to Lorenzo’s collared Sub. By enjoying cock tonight, was I technically no longer a lesbian either? Had I become bisexual, pansexual, polyamorous? Does it really matter? Tonight a man had unprotected bareback sex with me. He squirted his cum into my turncoat pussy and my lusting backdoor. I remember that I swallowed him with no regrets too. And most importantly to me, I have fully requited love from the sexy, amazing, clever, foxy Mary Ellen. She’s invited me to meet their family. Wow, a lot has happened! I can’t even begin to sort it all out and attach new labels to what I have become.

I feel funny but strangely relieved too, as if I’ve detoured but have finally arrived on the right highway. Maybe it is too early to tell but I have a feeling that, yes this is even more than what I had hoped for all these years. Don’t pinch me. Did I only dream all this? Did it really happen?

I have a scrap of paper in my hand with an address written on it.

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