Flip Sides

"Jesus Christ," he cursed and extended his feet to the end of the couch. "Get your fingers out of your fucking pussy. I'm trying to watch something here."

Meredith tried to readjust but could no longer remain on the sofa. "Please," she whined, perching on the upholstered arm like a bird.

James lowered his voice. "Get out of here, slut. I'm not going to say anything else."

Feeling angry and sorry for herself, Meredith retreated to the bedroom.

This submission crap is bullshit, she thought, on the verge of tears. She could take any beating he dished out, but to be brutally ignored was unbearable.

Meredith was fuming by the time she closed the door. Piece of shit bastard. She felt like throwing things.

There are thousands of men who would die for your body. Meredith reassured herself unconvincingly as she stripped off her t-shit in front of the mirror. She studied her figure, skeptical of affirmations prescribed by years of therapy. Sitting down on the bed, she watched herself pull off her pants and then pelted her reflection with two balled-up socks.

Escaping further, Meredith climbed into bed and pulled the comforter over her head. The chilly white bed sheets were usually soothing, but she wished instead for the weight of James' body.

Meredith lectured herself. If you weren't so fucking horny all the time you could have a regular life. It's your own need that gives him the power.

Grrrrrr, she thought with clenched teeth and a wrinkled brow while she rubbed furiously at her pussy.

The tiny stubble gave Meredith a focus. She flipped off the blanket and continued her critical inspection. How dare she try to seduce James when her body was less than perfect? Maybe if she had shaved first he would've paid more attention to her.

But Meredith was a smart girl. She knew her thoughts were ridiculous and self-destructive. Plus, she laughed, picturing James out on the couch in his weekend coma. His face was scratchier than she'd ever be.

He doesn't care about the trouble I go to. She was angry then smug. He doesn't deserve me, she thought, looking into the mirror again. I am way too good for him.

Recharged with attitude, Meredith imagined a new scheme.

This is the fun part, thought Meredith as she climbed out of bed. James was demanding, demeaning, but oh, so good for her. He was an asshole, but he pushed her. Pushed her the way that other boys didn't.

Meredith went to a pile on the floor and found James' thick belt. Grabbing the buckle, she shook it, detaching the pair of jeans that clung by its loops.

A shiver went through her body. Meredith loved that belt. She inhaled and slid the luxurious length across her face.

Mmmm. She kissed it and felt dry emptiness in the back of her throat. I need his cock, she thought. "Please fuck my face," Meredith whispered in rehearsal and then seductively ran the tip of her tongue over her teeth. She was ready for battle.

Even so, standing naked behind the corner doorway, Meredith's nervousness returned. With one eye, she peaked at James and felt grateful to be partially hidden.

Fucking football. She hoped her plan wouldn't backfire. She knew he'd be angry, but she also knew James.

James heard her moving. He closed his eyes to calm down and then ordered himself to stay focused on the television.

Fuck, he thought. She had so much potential. If, and it was a big if, she didn't annoy him to death in the first place. Exasperated, he let out a sigh.

"What?" he shouted, anticipating a request. Meredith was startled. It was now or never.

"Master. . ." she entreated with her eyes respectfully down. Meredith stepped into the empty space. She slid the cold yellow buckle over her face. It was her only protection from his disdainful gaze. With her left hand, Meredith pulled the belt taut between her breasts, over her tiny stomach and then, with a critical twist, between the lips of her pussy.

Fuck, he thought again as he watched her hips buck against the leather. This is what he had to deal with.

James couldn't watch. Jesus, she was such a slut. And it was his own damn fault she was so delicious. He couldn't help feel a little bit of pride.

"You're getting cum all over it." He kept his voice level.

"Please Sir. . ." begged Meredith. "I've been bad. I need to be punished. It's just. . ." her voice was quivering despite how she'd practiced the words earlier. "I wanted you so bad, I couldn't keep my hands off of myself."

"Spare me the details." He said and hit mute on the remote. James was trying to think. "You've ruined this game for me now." A little drama never hurt although he wasn't about to miss the last quarter for anyone.

Meanwhile, she was still fucking his belt. James couldn't help laugh. She was out of control.

"I ought to beat your ass raw." Meredith smiled like he knew she would. "But that's exactly what you want." What she needed was some manners and a little respect. James tried not to look at her. He would not let her manipulate him for attention. "Go put the cuffs on the bed and clean the toilet or something. I'm going to deal with you later."

He had fucked her last night. What more did she want? He'd secured her spread eagle in a doorway, whipped her with a kitchen towel and then fucked her some more. God, he thought, this bitch really was insatiable. Seriously though, he needed some peace.

James turned the volume back up.

Meredith wasn't sure what to feel. She knew she'd gotten to him and yet she knew there was enough cleaning to keep her busy for a long time.

This was when she hated him. She paid her half of the bills and yet she worked twice as hard. Only when he fucked her did she feel fully appreciated.

Well, and then. . . she stopped, smiled, and felt her heart grow rosy. There were those rare times in the dark when they talked seriously. When he was honest with her and he let his guard down. Yes, she thought, she loved him furiously.

And yes, she would do whatever he wanted. But, grrr. . . she growled again in her mind. He made her so angry she wanted to spit.

Meredith pulled on boxers and a sports bra. Hair tied in a knot, she channeled her energy into scrubbing the apartment. She felt like Cinderella. Submissive Cinderella. She chuckled.

I could write that book, she thought. Yes, Meredith smiled, I'm waiting for my night at the ball.

Although . . . It didn't make sense. She'd been with men who treated her like a princess. She was unimpressed with presents and poetry. No, she thought. James was her witch. She had to laugh at the thought of him as a wicked stepsister, but that wasn't right either. No matter how she tried to intellectualize it, she couldn't describe exactly why he did what he did to her. She only knew one thing for certain. His praise, his desire, HE made her high as a kite.

With renewed dedication, Meredith attacked the counters. She would clean the whole place; there'd be nothing left to do. He'd be so impressed, he'd have to think of her. They'd have nothing to do but fuck. Well, fuck and roll around in bed together whispering childishly, teasing, and nibbling on each other.

Her eyes narrowed and her mind became a checklist. Cleaning was cool, she thought. She loved to see her progress. Working out felt tedious but Meredith could break a sweat scrubbing. The tile floor was her true nemesis with its fortified lines of evil nasty mold reinforced through the years by weak tenants. Meredith's determination nullified the sting of chlorine bleach on her knuckles.

James came in to piss and mentally admired her ass before she turned and smiled at him. She did look sweet, down there on her knees.

"That's what I like to see, woman," he said, no longer angry. Meredith playfully kissed his feet but quickly got back to work. She loved knowing that she pleased him, although she also knew that she still had it coming.

James didn't know what to do with her. He went back to the couch distracted. Thoughts of Meredith began to seep in between commercials. Thoughts of her on her knees with her taut little butt stuck out. Thoughts of grabbing that ponytail and pulling her head back surprisingly. Oh she would pay for this, thought James. The little minx would pay.

James considered his options. Spanking was out, definitely too easy. And yet, with the thought, he could feel her wiggling across his lap. Now he was horny. "Fuck," he said out loud. His team was down again and it was her fault.

It had to be something about restraint, a lesson in self-control. James was still proud of his latest variation on the hog tie. She'd made an incredible sight with silvery drool strung from her chin to her chest. Oh yeah, James remembered. Gagging her squashed her feistiness quickly. She'd looked as pitiful as a fly in a huge horror movie web.

But little games were the best: little games where she'd start out proud, with that shit-eating grin. She'd start out so eager, and then he could watch the fight in her face. He would watch her battle her desires until she struggled in that desperate whiney way that made him so fucking hard.

However, he thought, adjusting himself. Meredith loved those too. The harsher the punishment, the more she begged for it. Everything was backwards with this chick and that was starting to piss him off. He was supposed to be the one in charge and yet here she had him racking his brain again.

Let the punishment fit the crime. That's what he needed to think about. What would teach her to back off every once and a while? What would teach her about the right time and the right place and that she wasn't allowed to dictate when they did what?

The handcuffs where already on the bed; he'd checked as he walked by. Should he beat her or tease her? Which would make her more miserable? Definitely tease. That little bullet vibrator made her writhe so violently he swore it had a wire loose.

God, he thought. He'd love to jolt her like some little lab rat. Perfect, James laughed. One of those dog systems with the shock collars. That would keep her out of the living room on Sunday afternoons.

Joking aside, the electric shock kits he'd seen on-line made his stomach roll. Meredith would die at the sight. James wondered if he could really shock her. Would he test it on himself? That thought was not appealing. Like I'd ever have that kind of dough to drop anyway. That whole idea would have to wait.

Anyway, it was all about psychology, James reminded himself. Pain was just the icing on the cake. What he really needed to do was mess with her head.

James got up for a drink. The football game was practically over. He strained to hear what Meredith was doing, but he wasn't about to look for her.

Every scenario he concocted also left him hanging. He imagined her back caned into a precise checkerboard pattern, awesome red stripes parallel to her ass crack, and then horizontal ones down the back of her thighs. He'd love to cum all over that. But could he do it without fucking her first? Probably not, he regrettably admitted.

Meredith had the most perfect ass and the tightest little asshole. Uhm, he could just feel it. And if she started begging, there was no way to resist.

What I really need to do, James was certain, is to fuck another girl in front of her. Let her jealousy do its own thing. Now that, would get to Meredith.

And god, what he'd give for one more time with April. She had the only ass in Meredith's league, not that April would give him the time of day now. James would never admit it to Meredith, but he didn't exactly have girls waiting in the wings. He stopped himself. Thinking this way was getting him nowhere.

Goddamn her. God damn slutty Meredith. Why couldn't she just behave so that they could relax and enjoy each other? Why did she have to be so insistent all the time?

Just a few hours alone without all her cuddling and kissy crap. That was all he wanted. Then she can make me dinner, James thought sarcastically until he realized that he was sort of hungry. What time was it anyway? She did take good care of him, James conceded to himself.

Meredith looked at the clock in the bathroom. I just bet he's fallen asleep, she thought spitefully. Meredith appreciated a clean shower stall but was still feeling like a martyr. Luckily, she was almost done.

Meredith stripped off her minimal clothing and calculated that if she did all her shaving first, the hot water heater would have sufficient time to refill its tank. Then she could take a relaxing bath in the nice clean tub.

Maybe I should put on my French maid costume while I make dinner. That outfit had gone over well at the Halloween party. But I'm skipping the fishnets, she decided. I really need to find a crotchless pair. Barefoot in the kitchen. She laughed. Wasn't that appropriate?

Still, she reminded herself, not just any woman could satisfy James. She met his primal needs all right, but she knew their game was more than that. They were flip sides of a coin. That was her favorite thing that he'd ever said.

Oh she'd die for a whispered, "I love you," but they had something more sophisticated. Two sexy-ass, smart people trying to wear down the other's defenses. They both liked the challenge and they still had the spark. Proudly, Meredith closed her eyes. The steam was making her sleepy. Could people really drown in their own bathtubs?

She had a little time before dinner. If she lay down for a nap, James might come looking for her. She hated to look lazy. However, smiled Meredith, James liked how she looked naked and bound up. She'd caught him once looking at her pictures on the computer. Meredith hugged herself with the memory. Hee hee, her face beamed. That had been a victory.

With a roll in her hips, Meredith deliberately strolled out of the bathroom. She was confident that if James caught her now, her newly improved nakedness would be enough to snag his attention.

Disappointed, she reached the bedroom unnoticed. There, a new idea emerged. If she put on the handcuffs while napping, she could always say she was waiting for him. She'd appear both sexy and patient. Sleeping while cuffed was no problem. It was her way of cheating, sometimes.

Meredith lay face down at the foot of the bed. Handcuffs didn't fit around the slats at the top. She used her cheek to push the second set closed around her final wrist. She really wanted a comforter and knew her wet hair was going to leave her napping in a big damp spot, but it was a sacrifice she would make for the sake of her concocted excuse.

But a nap now seemed unlikely. The cold steel of the handcuffs was turning her on. Meredith's unbound legs scissored together. Come fuck me pleeease, she wanted to scream. Had James forgotten about "dealing" with her? I'm already being punished, she pouted and rubbed her boobs back and forth across the mattress.

James, meanwhile, was making himself a sandwich in defiance of his desire for Meredith to serve him. He wouldn't become dependant on her, and he resented his own curiosity to check what she was doing. He'd sent her away, he reminded himself. It was her place to come crawling back.

Fuck I'm in bad shape. James did a shake-it-off shudder after realizing he'd paused his channel surfing on some lame wannabe porn. He was hungry and annoyed. All the reruns were shit. Finally he found an acceptable movie to watch during dinner.

"Meredith!" yelled James, after digesting.

She woke up ashamed and decided not to say anything.

"Horny bitch" he yelled with a sharper tone but a little less volume, for the neighbor's sake.

Meredith giggled to herself. She was pissing him off. It was better than nothing.

Jesus Christ, thought James and got up from his chair. What was she doing?

Immediately she closed her eyes when she heard him moving. That would buy her some time.

James paused in the doorway. It wasn't uncommon for her to take naps but he hadn't expected to find her naked. He wasn't sure what to do and wished for the hundredth time that he'd come up with some ingenious punishment.

He cleared his throat and looked suspiciously at her eyes. Was she faking? Would she flinch if he spanked her? She was such a spoiled actress.

James used his index finger and went straight for her asshole. "Wake up you little faker."

Meredith squirmed and then smiled seductively as she opened her eyes. "Good morning Master," she purred.

James gestured impatiently to her hands, "This?"

"I was out of control, baby." She started to flip her body over and stared up pleadingly from under her shackled arm.

"I was dying for your big, fat cock." Meredith thrust her hips toward James, still unable to completely roll over. She felt no shame for her desperate display. She'd go to any length now and openly searched James' face for a reaction. "But I didn't want you to be mad at me," she pouted.

Watch it, James reminded himself, I've got to stay mad. He wanted to laugh. She was too much. Unbelievable, really, but he had to play his cards right.

"And tell me again why am I mad at you?" James met her eye contact and forced her to defer. Clarification was important, if he wanted results.

"Because I'm a slut?" she offered meekly.

"An annoying slut who won't let me watch football in peace."

"Yes, Sir. I'm sorry." She did feel embarrassed.

"And who calls the shots in this relationship?" He forced her to flip back over with his gaze. Meredith had no reply. "Who says when we fuck?" repeated James. Her body was tense, quivering from desire and pressure.

"Answer me, slut." He growled, wishing for something to smack her with. He wouldn't touch her with his hand. He needed that distance, that reserve. He needed a stick, to poke at her, like a worm on the sidewalk. She was a gorgeous worm: all moist and chubby, writhing around, searching for water.

"You're always in charge." She whispered and rolled her bottom lip under her teeth.

It was such a childish gesture. James held his frame steady despite the urge to scoop her up like a child. He'd love to watch her cry uncontrollably, feel her cling to him, babbling obscenely until she called him daddy and begged for forgiveness.

"What have you got for me, girl?"

She knew to wait silent.

"Get up on your knees."

James watched her cherry red pussy press toward him in need. He was dying to poke her, to feel her wet folds and her puckered brown eye, but he refocused by searching through the closet. He needed something to maintain the boundary.

She should have to work this hard, James thought resentfully, his own muscles tense.

A hanger perhaps? How much would that hurt? James rolled the wire between his fingers. He could hook into her holes. That would be scary, he mused. That just might be good.

James knew she was watching between her legs. He loved the suspense. He slapped an empty hanger against his thigh. It was mild actually, less than expected.

"So next time, you cunt," He pulled the hanger straight below the hook. He squeezed it into a long flat line and took another few test swats against his palm "Will you leave me alone when I say that . ." He poked at her waist and scratched slowly down her right thigh while he spoke. ". . . I have more important things to do?"

"Yes," she answered hesitantly. Meredith could feel her heartbeat speed up. Her pussy was throbbing. She needed his touch. But that bastard, she thought. T.V was NOT more important than she was.

James checked where he'd scratched. The white line was gone. He flipped the hanger in his hand and scratched up her left thigh.

"Do you have an itch that needs to be scratched?" He asked sadistically.

Meredith peered back at him anxiously. James pulled her damp hair over her shoulder with his new toy.

"Such a weak slut." He said in a mocking voice. He hooked into the metal cuffs and gave them a shake. "Has no self control." He tickled her neck with the hook and grazed down her back in a wiggly line.