Switchy [Suncoast Society] (Siren Publishing Sensations)

by Tymber Dalton

  “Cool.” Tilly rubbed her hands together. “What limits do you have?”

  “I…don’t even know.”

  Tilly offered her a kind smile. “We never did sexual play,” she said. “Do you want me to do what I used to do with them? Give you a demo?”

  Em nodded. “You know, that might be the easiest way.”

  “Before we get started, you get safeword rights, just like they do. If I start to do something you don’t want me doing, you just say red, and I’ll stop.”

  “Okay. Thanks. So…what do we do?”

  Tilly looked down at the men. “Are you two okay with playing like that? Landry and Cris don’t have a problem with it.”

  The men both nodded. “As long as Em’s okay with it,” Jarred said.

  “Same old ground rules, then,” Tilly said, once again focusing on Em. “Are you okay with them calling me ‘Ma’am’?”

  “Sure.”

  “Okay.”

  Em watched, fascinated, as a change seemed to come over Tilly. Em couldn’t even explain it, but it almost appeared to be at a visceral level. Tilly stood and stepped forward, both men turning, still kneeling, to face her.

  Tilly snapped her fingers and pointed at the floor. As one, the men completely bowed, foreheads touching the floor.

  “Good boys,” Tilly cooed, even her voice now seemingly changed in a way Em couldn’t define.

  Tilly leaned over and stroked the men’s hair. “Who’s going to be good boys for me and show Em how good boys behave?”

  “We are, Ma’am.”

  Em sat up, hearing the change in their voices, like they were there, but not there.

  Tilly met her gaze, arching an eyebrow at her and smiling. “Subspace approacheth.” She reached down between the men, grabbed an ear of each, and pulled them back up into kneeling positions. She held them so their heads were tipped toward each other. “Are you good boys?”

  “Yes, Ma’am.”

  It was like sexy stereo.

  Really sexy stereo.

  Tilly leaned in closer, dropping her voice. “Where’s your bag?”

  “Hallway, Ma’am,” Garrison said.

  “Go get it and bring it to the spare bedroom.” She released his ear and he jumped up to do it. To Jarred, she said, “Go grab that small spanking bench over there and move it into the bedroom. Now.”

  “Yes, Ma’am!” He also jumped to do it.

  Tilly straightened, smiling at Em. “Come on.” She turned and Em rose and followed her into the bedroom.

  The men were there less than a minute later, and Tilly closed and locked the door behind them. The men stood, waiting for instructions.

  “Do you have collars, cuffs, and jocks with you?” Tilly asked.

  “Yes, Ma’am,” they replied.

  She snapped her fingers again and pointed at the bag. “You have two minutes. Then kneel at the end of the bed, facing me.”

  Em watched, fascinated, as the men became a flurry of action, shedding clothes and quickly donning matching leather cuffs around their wrists and ankles, collars, and leather jockstraps.

  Tilly leaned in. “The jocks help protect their junk. Janis frequently had them naked, but I always had them play with jocks. And since you’re new, it’ll kind of protect the boys, you know?”

  Em winced. “Ah. Yeah.”

  Tilly grinned. “Don’t want to damage your playthings.”

  The men probably had fifteen seconds to spare when they dropped into position where Tilly had specified.

  Tilly turned to her. “Do you want me to give you a full demo with one of them, then coach you through the other one? Or do you want me to scene with both of them so you can watch?”

  If she was going to learn this, Em knew she’d have to do hands-on first. “Demo with one.”

  “Any preference?”

  “Let them pick.”

  Tilly turned to the men. “You heard the lady. Which one of you wants me?” She grinned. “And no, I won’t be insulted if you try to nominate the other.”

  “Garrison, Ma’am,” Jarred said. “If it’s all right, may I sit flat on the floor to watch? My thigh makes kneeling hard.”

  “Oh, dammit. Sorry, buddy. That’s right. Duh, your thigh is wrapped. Garrison it is. Get four clips and assume the position.”

  Garrison quickly grabbed four snap clips from the bag and handed them to Tilly before spreading a towel on the bench and then climbing on. Tilly clipped his wrists and ankles to the bench and then started rooting around in the bag. Meanwhile, Jarred had changed positions from kneeling to sitting on his butt, next to Em’s legs.

  “Oooh, I forgot y’all had this.” Tilly pulled a particularly wicked-looking paddle out of the bag and turned to Em with an evil gleam in her eye. “This is that rubber diamond tread stuff like what’s in truck bedliners. A Max and Sean special.”

  Tilly laid out implements on the bed, picking up two floggers. “Ooh, I should have asked you if you wanted a blindfold and ball gag or not.”

  “Yes, Ma’am,” Garrison said. “Please.”

  “Coming right up.” She set the floggers aside, found the items, and got them fitted on Garrison.

  Em sat on the edge of the bed, out of the way but able to see everything Tilly was doing.

  Tilly picked up the floggers and reached out so Em could feel one. “Suede,” Tilly said. “Medium floggers. Not painful at all. Heh, unless you nail them in the nuts or the eye.” She looked at Jarred. “Y’all didn’t get any piercings, did you?”

  “No, Ma’am.”

  “Another point,” Tilly said to Em. “You ever get their nipples pierced or something, you don’t want to catch those with a flogger.” She stood behind Garrison, at his ass, and reached out with one hand to stroke his back. “This isn’t going to be a long one, buddy. But I’ll make it hard and fast. How’s that sound?”

  He mumbled something around the gag that sounded like, “Yes, Ma’am.”

  Apparently Tilly understood him. “Good boy.” She held a flogger in each hand and stepped back, gauging her distance before getting started. While Tilly worked her way up from his thighs to his ass, over his upper back and shoulders, along his upper arms, and down again, Em watched as Garrison’s body seemed to relax into it, his breathing slow and steady and not looking the least bit like he was in pain.

  After a few minutes of that, Tilly switched to a leather slapper, working it up and down his body. He flinched a few times as she nailed him particularly hard in the ass and upper thighs, leaving faint pink marks behind.

  While Em watched, Jarred leaned against her legs and she found herself reaching down and stroking his hair.

  Tilly switched implements several times, between paddles and riding crops and canes and slappers, stepping it up and bringing it down several times in intensity, until she picked up a heavy, white, octagonal piece of rod.

  “Ah, yes. The hex rod.” Tilly laid it on his back and rolled it up and down his spine, then back and forth lengthwise. “You know what this means, right?”

  “Yes, Ma’am,” he mumbled around the gag.

  “Tell me.”

  “Big finish.”

  “Good boy.” She walked around to his head. The whole time Tilly had played with him, Em noticed she’d reach down and feel his hands, his feet, checking in with him and asking him for a color.

  Always green. It was like watching a dance, in a way. She noted how Tilly always seemed to know just when to let up, watching how his body tensed from the impacts, as if keeping him right on the edge.

  He now bore red marks and welts all up and down his ass and thighs, but not once had he called red.

  Tilly grabbed him by the hair and pulled his head up. “Three with the hex rod? Or more?”

  He hesitated. “More, please, Ma’am.”

  “Five?”

  He seemed to be thinking about it. “Yes, Ma’am. Five, please.”

  “Good boy.” She released his head and walked around to his ass. Placing her left hand
on his lower back, Tilly lined up the rod. “Count.” Then she hauled off and smacked him, hard, only the clips holding him to the bench apparently keeping him in place.

  He sucked in a sharp breath. “One, Ma’am.”

  Tilly repeated it, Em almost ready to call red herself by the time Tilly delivered the last stroke and he counted it, collapsing to the bench, chest heaving, body trembling.

  Tilly quickly unclipped his wrists and ankles and knelt in front of him, her hands cradling his head. “Good boy,” she softly said. “Such a good boy.”

  She touched her forehead to his and Em felt a momentary curl of jealously run through her before realizing that Tilly seemed pretty wound up herself, but she wasn’t doing anything Em and the men hadn’t asked her to do.

  Tilly had known them longer than her, had a sort of history with them.

  The least Em could do was see this through, especially since she was the one who’d be going home with them later.

  After a moment, Tilly removed the blindfold and gag from him and stared into his eyes. “Okay?”

  He nodded. “Thank you, Ma’am.” He sounded like he’d just run a marathon, that subspacey slur still in his tone.

  She helped him sit up on the bench and then he hugged her. “You’re a good boy,” she told him again. “She would have been so proud of you.”

  He nodded, not moving for a moment. Then Em saw his shoulders start to tremble, and it wasn’t until Tilly folded herself around him that she realized he was crying.

  “It’s okay,” Tilly told him. “Let it out.”

  Em spotted a tissue box on the dresser and grabbed it, bringing it over. Tilly folded Em into the hug, passing him over to her and then snapping her fingers at Jarred, who immediately joined them.

  After a couple of minutes, Garrison pulled himself together and sat up. “I’m okay,” he said, looking at them. “Sorry. I don’t know where that came from. It just hit me out of nowhere.”

  Tilly stroked his hair, and this time, Em didn’t feel the slightest bit jealous. Tilly was their friend and had known Janis, had seen what they’d been through. If this was cathartic and healing for them, no way in hell would she be so petty as to deny them this.

  “You guys haven’t played with anyone but Em, have you?” Tilly asked.

  “Just each other,” Jarred softly said.

  “We haven’t really…played,” Em admitted. “Nothing like that.”

  Garrison took a deep breath. “I’m okay. I’m good.”

  “Tilly, I think I want you to top Jarred,” Em said.

  “Why?” she asked.

  “I…” Em swallowed hard. “I have a feeling it might be better for you to do it this time. Seriously.”

  “Are you freaked out?” Jarred asked her. “Because it’s okay if you are.”

  “No.” Em tried to figure out how to phrase it. “I’m not freaked out. But you guys know how to do impact play, right?”

  The men exchanged a glance. “Well, yeah,” Jarred said.

  “So you could teach me?”

  “Em—”

  “I want Tilly to play with you, if you’re okay with that,” Em said. “I think for this time, at least, it should be her. I don’t want to accidentally derail something.”

  Jarred cocked his head. “I don’t mind if you do it.”

  “I understand that. But I’d rather watch Tilly do it. Because I want to see how she handles it.”

  “There’s no guidebook,” Tilly said. “It’s all instinct.”

  But Em had made up her mind. With Garrison sitting on the floor next to her, his arms wrapped around Em’s leg as he sat with his face pressed against her calf, Tilly got Jarred hooked up to the bench similar to how she’d positioned Garrison. He was also blindfolded and gagged.

  Tilly gently patted his right thigh, above the bandaged area. “I’m going to be hitting you a little lopsided, buddy. I don’t want to get anywhere near that. Okay?”

  “Yes, Ma’am.”

  Em was getting better at deciphering gag speak.

  To the casual observer, what Tilly did with Jarred might have looked identical to how she played with Garrison.

  Em, however, had been paying attention. And this was exactly the kind of thing she wanted to see, how Tilly handled each man differently. She went heavier on many of the strokes with him, but while reading his body she also took a little more time between impacts to let him process them. Where and how she used implements differed on him, too, and not just around his healing thigh.

  Em couldn’t explain it, but she could see it.

  And by the time Tilly had built up to the “big finish” with him with the hex rod, Em sensed an emotional ending in store.

  He only wanted three swipes with it. But they were harder, and Tilly paused a little longer between each one than she had with Garrison.

  Then they gathered around him as he also had an emotional release, his face pressed against Em’s stomach, his arms around her waist as he sobbed.

  Tilly smiled, but it looked sad. “They’ve been through a lot,” she said, stroking Jarred’s hair. “I think you’re really going to be good for them. I’ll be back in a minute.”

  Tilly patted Em on the back and carefully disengaged herself from the group hug, letting herself out and closing the door behind her.

  But not before Em had spotted the way Tilly’s eyes looked a little too bright, and how she’d brushed at her face with her hands just as she headed through the door.

  Once Jarred had pulled himself together, Em kissed him. “You okay?”

  “Yeah. Til…” He sighed. “She plays very similar to how Janis played with us. Tilly had worked with her when Janis first got into the lifestyle, so she had a very similar technique.” He wiped at his eyes. “You’re not upset, are you?”

  “No.” She kissed him again, then Garrison. “I’m glad I got to see that. Thank you.”

  The men exchanged a confused glance. “Why are you thanking us, Ma’am?” Garrison asked.

  “Thank you for trusting me and letting me in. And for letting Tilly do that so I could see it.”

  “So, stepping out of dynamic for a minute,” Garrison said. “As Garrison and Jarred and Em. Any questions? Are you freaked out? Feedback?”

  “I’m good. I want to be careful learning so I don’t hurt you guys in the bad way, but I watched what she did. And I want you guys to do that to me.”

  “Huh?” Jarred asked.

  “One of the things Tilly told me at Tony’s was that a lot of Tops have stuff done to them so they know what it feels like. I don’t want to wear the cuffs or be tied down, but I want to feel what that felt like.”

  “Um, no offense, sweetheart,” Jarred said, “but what you saw, while not the heaviest we’ve ever played, was do not try this at home territory for a newbie. She packs a wallop.”

  “I want you guys to do it to me,” she said. “Think we can tie up the bedroom a little longer? Unless you don’t want to show me. Then I will ask Tilly. Your call.”

  The men seemed to be considering it. “Okay,” Garrison said. “We’ll do it. If you’re sure.”

  “Not a whole scene. But I want to know what it feels like.”

  Tilly knocked and stuck her head in. “We good?”

  Em waved her back in and told her what they’d just talked about.

  Tilly shrugged. “Do you want me to clear out?”

  “No, I’d like you to supervise. You know what you used on them. So narrate for me.”

  “Okay.”

  With the door once again locked, and knowing Tilly was both a nurse and probably wouldn’t be in the least bit shocked, Em stripped off the sundress she’d worn and climbed up onto the bench. “And tell me stuff like why they’re doing what they’re doing,” she said. “Where not to hit.”

  “Oh, that’s easy.” Tilly got up. “Do you mind if I touch your back and legs? No groping, I promise.”

  “That’s fine.” Em leaned forward and Tilly talked to her, touching sh
oulder blades, tracing down her spine, pointing out the kidneys, everything to avoid. Which lined up with what Em had just watched her do with the men.

  Then Garrison picked up the first slapper Tilly had used on them and lightly swatted her on the ass with it, across her panties.

  She looked over her shoulder at him. “That didn’t even sound like how she hit you.”

  “Honey, we told you—”

  “I don’t hit like a girl, is what he’s saying,” Tilly drawled.

  Em sat up, held her hand out to Garrison for the slapper, and then passed it to Tilly. “Just a few swats each with each implement, please.”

  “Uh, how hard you want it?”

  “Maybe not quite as hard as what you gave them, but don’t hold back, either.”

  “Okay.”

  The men nervously hovered at Em’s head, standing there while she waited for Tilly to step into position.

  “Okay. I’ll start off light and get harder. Yellow or red when you’re ready and I’ll switch implements.”

  “Okay.”

  Em flinched at the first impact, which wasn’t as bad as she’d thought it’d be, but was definitely harder than Garrison had hit her. It only took about five swats for her to red on that one. Tilly worked her way through the implements, giving Em a look at each one first and explaining why and how and where to use it. More importantly, where and how not to use it.

  By the time they were finished, Em knew she’d have bruises, but she felt fully alert and not at all fuzzy or subspacey like her guys had gotten.

  She sat up and held out her hand for her dress, which Jarred had picked up for her.

  “Well?” Tilly asked.

  “Thank you. I really appreciate you doing that for us. Don’t be surprised if I ask to pick your brain some more.”

  “No worries. Any time. Glad to be of help.”

  As the men packed the implements, Em was surprised to realize they’d been in there the better part of two hours. Jarred got the bench wiped down and moved it back out to the living room, where the party was in full swing.

  Garrison picked up their pile of clothes. “Dressed or not, Ma’am?” he asked.

  Em smiled. “I think I like you guys like that for now. You can change back before we go home.”