Switch (A BDSM Romance Novel) (11 page)

“And what you had wasn’t? Everything is, only you have to trust each other to give what is necessary and take only what is offered. You need to discuss any bounds that are broken and build your own to suit your relationship as it builds and shifts. You need to put the effort in, effort that is visible, so that Henry knows the significance of your situation, and how important he is to you as a person, regardless of his abilities. He needs to know that you would help him should he fail.”

“That makes sense. But it would make more if only I knew where he was.”

“I shouldn’t tell you, because Amelia has told Master, and he has told me that you are not to know.”

“Please-“

“But I am going to tell you anyway, because I know that Master will understand, and that I will be in little, if any, trouble for helping you. He is at Amelia’s.”

“What?! But she didn’t say a word! I phoned her and-“

“And she told you likely what he had said to say. As a councillor of sorts, I should tell you that he sent his words through Amelia and therefore you should do as she asked, knowing full well that they are the orders of your Dominant as well as the requests of your friend.”

“You said as a councillor. What of as my friend?”

“As your friend I think that you need to communicate to him how much you need
him
, not just his skills. I think that he needs to feel wanted. I overheard him talking to Craig and Amelia earlier, and he is fully aware of your ‘research’, which was rather wrong, by the way.”

He knew. She felt herself slump a little further, that tiny hope that he didn’t know the extent of her failures extinguished.

There was nothing left for her to do. What if he refused to see her? What is Amelia didn’t even allow her to ask him?

She was off again, energy seeping off of her as she made her way along her new journey, the path that could lead her to happiness with the man of her dreams.
It wasn’t her obsession with him, that initial spark that had filled her mind with something to latch on to.

Her ankle twisted as she ran up the steps carelessly, shooting pain through her that meant nothing. She carried on, precariously making her way to the door, hammering the door as if there were an emergency. “Henry!” She yelled. “I love you! Henry!”

The door swung open, taking away Jenna’s breath, but it wasn’t her missing lover.

“If Henry wishes to talk to you, then he will be in touch.” Amelia told her stonily, her voice hard. “Unless you are here to speak to Dom or myself, I suggest you leave.”

She barely gave Jenna a moment to consider, before she retreated back into her home, the heavy door closing shut behind her. Staring at it, it took Jenna a while to move. She was so close to him, why couldn’t he just come out? Did he feel that truly he owed her no explanation?

She needed a plan.

That night, restlessly she tossed and turned, the tiny sliver of parted curtains taunting her mercilessly. It wasn’t the light that kept her awake, instead it was that part of her that refused to sleep until it had analysed ever moment of their time together and found a solution, a sure way for him to forgive her and realise that he couldn’t be without her.

But
first she needed to show that she couldn’t be without him. She needed to inspire the same feelings of trust, love and safety that he invoked in her, to beg him to see things in the way that she did. Forget that Psychology bullshit, he needed to understand what it was like for himself, to feel what it felt like to be on the bottom.

Growling softly to herself, Jenna rose, unable to remain beneath the stifling covers when all that consumed her was Henry, her essay and the lengths that she had gone to to hopefully please him, to show him how perfectly  compatible she could be to his needs.

She still didn’t know what they were. She wanted to learn them, to watch them interact fully with hers, but how could she know when he wouldn’t say? He had seldom spoken in terms of himself when they had been together, and it had been a mystery to her of both his past and present. He had withdrawn from her because of her breaching his privacy, and yet she herself could not trust him to communicate openly. She, who would not press any issue for fear of displeasing him, for fear of his finding her impertinent and unsuited to him.

He would not give an inch out
of role, and so she felt wholly unable to ask for more than that.

If their roles were the issue, then she needed to force him to behave otherwise.

Resolved in some way, but not in many others, Jenna abandoned her statute like stance in front of her small bedside table, and slipped awkwardly back into bed, her essay mocking her as it glared from its place on the polished wood. A small ring sat on it, the stain of a mug placed down without a coaster. Jenna took comfort in it, her small finger tracing over it mindlessly until finally she felt tired enough, at ease enough to drift off into sleep.  

Jenna was patient, she thought, in allowing Henry to stew on his own a while. He went to Amelia’s parties for the next three weeks, every time meeting some excuse as to why Henry was absent. She went about her routines as usual, only without Henry in it to make it feel valuable. She treasured the moments which she had spent with him, and keenly felt the loss of that comforting, loving being that had brought light into her colourless, pointless existence.

Finally, she somewhat understood what her sister had been going through. Not her way of tackling the situation, but how she had come to such a state of ridiculousness in the first place. If she hadn’t made such a big thing about Jasmine’s behaviour, she imagined that she may behave somewhat similar. Instead, she brought every ounce of her stubbornness to the surface, losing many more nights’ sleep running around in circles that never lead her mind anywhere new until finally,
finally
she had an idea that may be crazy enough to work. If would require help, but surely even begging verbally would be better than crying loudly and exaggeratedly until someone decided to help simply because they couldn’t stand the racket any longer.

“Please,” Her voice was thankfully steady
, but her arms were wrapped tightly around herself as she stood in the doorway to Amelia’s home, the cold wind whipping her hair in front of her. “I’ll do anything, I promise. If he tells me to leave, then I will. I just need to try and gain back his trust. Even if he can’t forgive me, I at least want to apologise.”

“You have disobeyed him by coming here.”

Jenna took a deep breath, hugging herself tighter as if she would collapse otherwise. “He has taken himself out of a position that allows him to give me orders. To refuse to speak to me is simply a lack of respect.”

“He isn’t here.”

Jenna swallowed, her lips parting again to speak before she had even thought of how to respond. She couldn’t assume that it was a lie; it could easily be a truth. But she could only push so far.

Thankfully, Amelia continued. “He has gone out, and will not be back until this evening.”

“Do you know where he has gone?”

“That is irrelevant. If you want to talk to him, come back this evening.” She raised her eyebrows. “And shouldn’t you be at work?”

“I’m on my lunch break.” Jenna mumbled, already turning away. “I’ll see you later.”

The next couple of hours went agonisingly slowly, punctuated by numerous cups of tea and far too many glances at the clock. She had her plan in force, and she had everything that she needed for it in a waterproof bag that sat beneath her desk.

All in
all, she couldn’t be more prepared unless she already knew the outcome.

She wanted to run over to Amelia’s the moment she left the godforsaken building, but evening could mean any time, couldn’t it? And she didn’t know where Henry had been, how long it had taken him to get there.

What was there to do?

Steeling herself for a long wait, Jenna scurried over to Amelia’s as quickly as possible, pounding on the door in her haste. It could work out better this way, she realised.

If
she
was waiting for
him
, then surely she would have the upper hand? The element of surprise at least, even if Amelia had already informed Henry of her decision to barge her way, uninvited, back into his life.

Dom answered the door, but he did so silently, the lack of clothes and lowered eyes betraying the situation to her.

Any other time, she would blush. Now she came to the conclusion that Amelia was simply avoiding her, and making certain that she couldn’t grill Dom for information either.

Infuriating woman.

Dom lead her into the house and up the stairs, nodding towards a bedroom that Jenna had often stayed in after a long night of sulking in corners. It was, as Amelia used to call it, her ’brooding area’, and unless Jenna was present (and sulky), no one usually used it. It doubled up as the locked room in which any items which Amelia didn’t want to be destroyed or used lay. As well as any stock which was lingering about the house; she would go blue at the idea of her guests let loose on an order.

Well, things would certainly be very
lively
.

The idea of Henry in
her
room made Jenna smile softly, running her hands over the doorknob before experimentally opening it, her breath releasing in one relieved gust as it swung open. It was clean and tidy, the bed was made, the window was partially open and a glass of water rested on the bedside table. Henry’s bag lay, empty and folded down, beneath the bed, and Jenna blinked rapidly as she opened the wardrobe to see the sparse collection of clothes which had before resided beside her own. They smelled like him, but unfamiliar, too.

When they had first met, his clothes had smelt of him purely, himself and the clean, unscented washing powder from the Laundromat where he would take his clothes, if he had saved enough money during the week. If he had to not eat, then he would, to be presentable when he went to Amelia’s.
He hadn’t felt comfortable when he was unclean and unshaven, because he was far too proud to allow his old student to see what had become of him.

He had counselled her so well on control, diligence and generally gaining knowledge of the situations that concerned her, and yet now he had found himself without anything while she ran her business and kept a very happy slave.

He hadn’t admitted it to her at all. Instead his old friend had found out through Jasmine, something else that was Jenna’s fault. Without her, he would still have his pretence.

When he had moved in with her, his laundry had been done with hers, and Jenna had delighted in the way that their clothing matched in scent, as if they were some kind of wild animals marking their territory.

This new smell was unfamiliar and unsettling, but still so much of Henry that she had to force herself to turn away from it and close the wardrobe door firmly.

She closed the bedroom door too, walking over to sit herself down on the bed before she began to strip.
She did so as if Henry were there watching her, picturing his heated gaze on her as she removed the material and bared her flesh for his pleasure. She stroked along her sides and across her arms as she pulled off her blouse, her hands rubbing enticing circles over the soft skin of her stomach before she let out a small huff and rolled her eyes at her own stupidity.

Of course Henry wasn’t watching her. He wasn’t even there.

She managed to pull the rest of her clothing off without such a reoccurrence, and once completely nude, she fixed her gaze on the door, dressing as quickly as possible, just in case Henry should turn up at the least convenient time possible.

It would suit him down to the
ground.

The crotchless panties were easy enough, as was the garter belt. It was the fishnet stockings that proved tricky, catching awkwardly on her toes as she attempted to pull the fiddly clothing on quickly.
They were followed by shoes that were hard and unyielding, far too high in height and sure to give her blisters. She debated momentarily over the matching bustier before shaking her head and tossing it back into the bag, along with the clothing that she had removed, and then placed the bag under the bed and sat down in the single chair, several toys on her lap and on the bed as she waited.

And waited.

Her hands were clammy as they clutched the silk blindfold, fiddling nervously with the scrap as she shivered from the cold metal of the belt buckle against her thigh. Her bared breasts became more apparent to her every moment that she sat, hardening into peaks quickly as her own awareness of her body sent a thrum of excitement through her, aided by her nerves.

Her heart was pounding, so much in fact that she jumped when the door opened, barely composing herself before Henry’s eyes fell upon her, widening with shock. His mouth hung open and his body froze in a way that would be comical if she weren’t so uncertain.

“Henry.” She murmured hoarsely, her voice as steady and authoritative as she could make it. “Come on in.”

“Jenna?”

She nodded to the bed and offered a small smile, brief but there, “Sit.”

Henry swung the door shut behind her, walking over to her but pausing in front of her, staring silently. The surprise was evident, and Jenna felt a slight niggling feeling that maybe, just maybe, Amelia hadn’t warned him after all.

He wasn’t sitting down, though, and Jenna’s throat went dry. She licked her lips, wetting them a little before ordering him once more, her eyebrows raised in the gesture that she had copied from her redheaded friend. “Sit down.”

He did so without turning, refusing even to blink as he stared at her. “Did Amelia tell you I was here?” He asked.

“Quiet.”

She had only prepared as far as actions, and questions had no place yet in her carefully obsessed over order of events.

“I want to blindfold you.” She told him, lifting
the material. “Will you let me?”

“Jenna-”

“Quiet. Just a yes or no will suffice.”

His mouth closed and Jenna stared at him, her confident expression hiding her fear from him. Was this what he went through, every time they played? She simply let go and showed him what he did to her, as she had wanted him to. He had only shown the calm,
calculated man designed to allow her complete and utter freedom with him. She had been unguarded while unburdened by Henry’s own needs.

And he’d been so good at tossing them aside.

“I won’t ask you to do anything that I wouldn’t do myself.” She informed him, her voice softer than before. Her posture too, slumped a little, as afforded to her by her bared torso. She held his gaze and he nodded.

“Yes, Miss.” He replied surely. “You may blindfold me.”

Her stomach fluttered, but she continued as if his agreement had no effect on her. “Safewords?”

“Red and Yellow, Miss.”

“Good.”

Jenna willed her legs steady as she rose from the chair and stood before him, breathing through her mouth as she tied the material over Henry’s eyes slowly, her fingers fumbling slightly.
Her steady breaths wavered somewhat as she waited for any indication that he had noticed, however he remained completely still.

His hands were folded in his lap, as if he were kneeling before her, and Jenna’s heart beats quickened.

She trailed her fingertips lightly over his cheeks and along his jaw, tenderly petting his neck before moving away.

“Turn around.” She ordered. “I want you bent over the bed.”

Silently Henry did so, situating himself rather awkwardly by touch alone. It wrenched at her, the sight of him like this, and her own role in it. She was confused and uncertain, driven onwards only by her own determination. She would not reach out for him, not yet. Instead she watched as her helpless lover clumsily slung himself into position and then, as he had done to her so many times before, she kicked at his feet to widen his stance.

Although he had gained weight in the time that he had spent off of the street,
his body was still lean and lightly muscled. Jenna could see every shift of his form as he bent over the bed, the bizarre manipulations of his body without masses of fat to disguise it. He appeared unclothed completely, as if by watching him movements, the bones and muscles that made themselves known, she could see inside of him. He’d been stripped down in all ways; that much was apparent. He had lost his clothing, baring himself to her lustful gaze. He had then allowed her to blindfold him, rendering himself completely vulnerable to whatever it was that she decided to do to him. More than that, he was doing something that he didn’t want to.

As a submissive, Jenna laid her will down before him as a matter of choice; a choice that brought her pleasure and a sense of worth. By Henry doing so, he was denying himself completely of the control that he so desperately
wanted and practiced with ease.

He did so as if it were nothing.

Jenna let out a small whimper, a choked but near-silent sob of confusion and fear. The belt felt unfamiliar in her small hands; doubled over it was an odd and unwelcome weight in her palm. It felt powerful and dangerous and
wrong
.

She ran her hand soothingly down his backside, gently cleansing the flesh of any tension before lifting the vicious implement, and cringing at its snarl and snap as it hit her lover’s precious skin. The area immediately reddened, but only the near silent whistle of breath through Henry’s teeth could be heard. Was it like it was for her; was he consumed by the blindfold’s ability to focus him and make him
feel
? Did he find himself waiting for the pain, the time ticking far more torturously than the blows as they fell?

Maybe he, like her, expected worse, and braced himself against it regardless, completely fulfilled with the promise that he could take it, and that it would please her for him to do so. Maybe he bore it in the hope that it would turn her on.

This isn’t me! I’m not reliable, capable, infallible! I am flawed and tainted. I am as all others whom I deemed unworthy of my love, in light of the obedience and idolisation which comes with it. I am supposed to worship; for the sake of his perfection, his discipline and his kindness, I am to kneel at his feet.