[This is the third excerpt from Switch. If you haven’t been following along, I recommend reading the earlier segments: In Which We Meet Olivia and Say Goodbye to Paul and Second Chances.]
Paul still looked a little uncertain, but he didn’t think about it too long. He started pulling off his shirt, perhaps a little too eagerly, as he got himself stuck with his arms bound up in it behind his back. For a moment I thought of keeping him there, like that, and I had a brief frisson of excitement race through me, from a point between my breasts right down between my legs. The moment passed, however, and I just giggled a bit, turning away and climbing up onto the bed. I reached over to the nightstand and pulled out the handcuffs.
Paul’s eyes fairly goggled when he saw them, and he stopped in his tracks.
“Um, what’s up with those?”
I grinned over my shoulder at him as I threaded them through the slats in the headboard.
“An idea I had. Come on.”
He seemed really uncertain about it all, as I put first one wrist in a cuff, snapping it closed, and then my other. When that second one clicked into place, it passed quickly through my mind, What the hell am I doing? I didn’t let that stop me, however. Facing him again over my shoulder, my upturned ass in the air as I kneeled on the bed, resting my elbows on the pillows, I smiled, not at all as sure of myself as I tried to sound.
“I want you to spank me.”
Poor Paul. Now he really had that deer in headlights look, his shirt hanging from one wrist, his fly unzipped, standing there in shock.
“Yes, that’s right, I want you to spank me. I told you I wanted to try something different. Come on, it’ll be fun. Anyway, it’s an experiment.”
“I don’t know, Olivia. I mean, what if I hurt you? Are you sure about this?”
I heaved an exasperated sigh.
“Paul, get your ass up here on this bed, and spank me!”
His eyes grew even wider, if that were possible, but he finally got himself fully untangled from his shirt, kicked off his shoes and, still wearing his half-unzipped pants, climbed up onto the bed behind me. I wiggled my bare derriere at him and giggled again, although inside my heart was pounding something fierce and I could feel the heat of a blush spreading across my face and chest. I tugged on the cuffs experimentally, and yes, they held, very securely.
He put a hand on one of my butt-cheeks, and I liked that, so I wiggled again to encourage him.
“What are the handcuffs for? And when did you get those? Did you have those before?”
“I just got them, and I don’t know, it’s just an idea I had. I thought it’d be fun. Now come on, get busy!”
He lifted his hand, hovered over me with it for a moment, then sort of softly whacked me.
He smacked me again, very slightly harder this time, but still very tentative.
“Did that hurt? I didn’t hurt you, did I?”
“Paul, I’m not a baby, and you barely tapped me. It’s supposed to sting a little, isn’t it? It’s a spanking. Come on, spank me harder.”
“Can’t we just make love like normal?”
I sighed. So far, this experiment was a bust.
“Paul, please, can we just try it?”
He hit me one more time, no harder than before. Nothing. I was not aroused. I wasn’t turned on. This wasn’t working for me.
“I’m sorry, Olivia, I just don’t know. I don’t think this is right.”
He climbed off the bed and stood there, looking at me. Obviously it wasn’t working for him, either. He zipped up his fly, stepped into his shoes, and picked up his shirt.
“I don’t think I can do this, Olivia. I’m sorry. I’ve gotta go.”
I stared open-mouthed at him in shock.
“Yeah. Maybe you were right the other night at dinner. I mean about us not being right for each other. Anyway, see you around, perhaps, ok?”
And with that, he walked out of the room.
I heard the front door shut behind him as he left the apartment.
I rattled the cuffs. I looked over at the nightstand, at the closed top drawer. The drawer I’d gotten them from. The drawer where the key sat.
Now what the hell was I going to do?