DISCLAIMER: Law & Order and its characters are the property of Wolf productions, NBC etc. No infringement intended, no profit made.
AUTHOR'S NOTE: This started from a conversation over on TWoP. What started as The Ten Laws of Femslash Physics, ie, cliches in femslash fic, and quickly morphed into a much longer list. An idea germinated from IndigoSun's "19. If both characters are into BDSM, they will never both be tops or bottoms. Also, if the character who bottoms expresses a desire to top, the top will always oblige having always had a secret desire to bottom anyway. She will never respond with "I don't switch." The rest, as they say, is history.
ARCHIVING: Only with the permission of the author.

By trancer

In the BDSM world, there are two distinct yet equal groups. The Tops and The Bottoms. When two Tops fall in love, the lines between these groups bend. These are their stories. Chung-Chung!

"I don't switch." The words exited Olivia Benson's mouth in a ragged staccato, as if to reclaim any authority lost from being pinned in her chair. It had been hard enough to maintain her composure as teeth nipped into her neck. But, to feel the woman above her, after waiting for so long, lusting, fantasizing, desiring, to realize what it was the woman wanted Olivia to do. The one thing Olivia Benson did NOT do.

The woman sitting atop her lap froze. The sexual tension thick as honey on a winter's day, replaced with tension of another kind. Alexandra Cabot leaned back from her perch. Olivia's hands still wrapped tightly around her wrists. To the point where she could feel the bones scraping achingly against each other. She examined Olivia's face, searched for a tell, a sign, anything that belied her words. But, on Olivia's face, there were none. The answer, she supposed, had always been there. The unwritten rule etched on her face.

Olivia Benson was a top.

Olivia Benson didn't switch.

Before, Alex had seen it as a challenge. Now, she viewed it as an obstacle, one she wasn't quite so sure could be overcome.

"I don't switch." Olivia repeated.

"Then," Alex stated icily, "We have a problem."

Olivia watched the woman rise to her feet, a thousand wet dreams bursting like bubbles in her mind. "Yeah, I guess we do."

And so it began. It had taken months for them to reach this point. Where sideway examinations and subtle flirtations had reached a boiling point.

Now, they were at a stalemate.

Olivia stared out the passenger's side window. The stakeout was in it's 7th hour, the windows to the late model sedan slowly icing over from the bitter cold outside. The radio turned low to some AM station Olivia had forgotten to change the moment Elliot went on his coffee run. Now, Olivia sat in the car bored out of her skull, fighting the shivers threatening to over take her body.

She pulled the cell from her coat pocket, hitting the speed dial.

"Cabot." The voice on the other end stated authoritatively but in Alex's patented tone which stated a) yes, she had been asleep and b) it had better be really fucking important.

"Tell me something about you I don't know."

There was a pause on the other end. Olivia felt a smile creep on her face as she imagined Alex's reaction to her question. "I'm allergic to kiwi fruit."

"I was hoping for something a bit more enticing. Something to keep me warm."

"It is enticing." Alex explained. "If you're fantasizing about eating various fruits from strategically placed parts of my body then feeding them to me with your mouth, I'd skip the kiwis. Unless you're in to watching me blow up like a balloon and going into anaphylactic shock."

"Well," Olivia's voice was low and throaty, "When you say it like that, I'm getting warm already."

She could hear Alex chuckling in her ear. The ADA paused. "Quid pro quo, detective."

"Are you trying to trick me into phone sex? Because, I'd like to remind you, I'm on stakeout."

"I guarantee you, Detective Benson, I don't have to trick anyone into anything. And I'm very good at what I do."

"Yep, this is definitely phone sex."

"Good night, Detective."

"Benson?" Olivia stated flatly into her phone.

"Leather or latex?"

The bite of tuna and rye in Olivia's mouth had suddenly decided to revolt against its imminent fate, lodging in the middle of the Detective's throat. Her cheeks began to burn as she found eyes turning her way through out the Squad Room. She waved them off with a hand as she coughed the bite up, spitting it on her plate.

There was silence on the other end of the phone as she tried to think of a response that wouldn't alert her coworkers that this was more than a professional query. "Option A."

"On you or her?"

"The former."

"And the latter?"

"Nothing more than a collar." Olivia cocked a half smile in celebration of her own word play.

"Dildos or vibrators?"

The elevator was surprisingly empty for a mid week afternoon in the Courthouse. Alex gave a sideways glance towards the Detective. Almost angrily. Olivia had caught her off guard. She stood close to the ADA, so close Alex could smell the soap she'd used that morning, the scent of shampoo still lingering in her hair. Arms behind her back. Complete professional.

"Both" She could see the self-satisfactory smile on Olivia's face. Her eyes made their way towards the small Security Camera in the elevator. Thankful the devices were video only.


"Always." Alex stated flatly, her jaw clenching in irritation. "Do we have to have this conversation now?"

"Why, you hot and bothered?"


"Somehow, I doubt that." The elevator dinged as they reached their floor. Olivia leaned in, her nose millimeters from Alex's ear. "I doubt that very much."

"Handcuffs?" Alex crossed her legs, leaned back in her chair. She glanced at the clock on the wall for the umpteenth time. For the umpteenth time, it told her it was still really fucking late.

"Is that a proposition?"

Alex cocked an eyebrow at the question. They'd been bantering back and forth for months. Like two alpha's fighting over the same territory, they stalked and circled each other. Each waiting for their opening, for a sign of weakness, for the moment to pounce.

"Well?" Olivia's voice cut through Alex's thoughts, jolting her back into the present.

She mulled over the question finally offering her answer. "Yes, it is."

"And are the handcuffs on you or me?"

"You're the detective, you figure it out. But, before you do, let me leave you with this parting image - you, me, a pair of handcuffs and nothing but bare skin between us. Good night, detective."

"Whips?" She almost felt guilty for calling Alex. Almost. It had been happenstance, catching the ADA coming out of a restaurant, a young redheaded woman in tow. Happenstance she called it as she saw the young woman's coat flap open slightly by the breeze, open enough to know she was wearing nothing underneath.

Her stomach twitched as images flickered in her mind. Of Alex, of the woman, of what she could do to both of them. Alone. At the same time. It was going to be a very long night for the Detective.

"Kneel." It took Olivia a beat to realize Alex wasn't talking to her. "I've never been a whips kinda girl. Something about them seems so un-intimate."

"They have their uses."

"So I've heard. I'd love to chat, but I'm occupied at the moment." The statement accented with a moan that was most definitely not Alex. "Goodnight Detective."

"Goodnight Alex."

"How long have we been partners?" Elliot watched for a reaction. They both knew the routine. When it was professional, they just went on with business, no pausing, no pussy footing around the subject. When it was personal, it always started with a reaffirmation of their partnership because what was to come next usually pissed the other off.

"Go on." She didn't look up, just answered with the slightest twinge of an eyebrow continuing with her lunch.

"You need to get laid." He stated directly.

Her eyes shot up at him. "What makes you think I haven't?"

"You've blown up at least three times in the last week. You're edgy, moody. In a word, you're bitchy. And not PMS bitchy either. Who ever this person is," He emphasized 'this person'. He always did. The discussion of her personal life was always a land mine filled terrain of gender neutral pronouns and round about phrases. Men occasional had names and never stayed long. Women were always neutral and didn't stay much longer.

He'd known about her sexual preferences early on, the other predilections - the after hour parties at strip joints, the members only sex clubs, the leather suit with a built in harness and matching 8 foot bullwhip, that knowledge didn't come until much, much later in their relationship.

"She." Olivia cut him off.

Elliot cocked an eyebrow at the admission. It shouldn't have surprised him but it did. He wondered if he should tell Kathy this little piece of knowledge. That the person who was turning his partner into a raging, she-bitch from Hell was a woman. "Who ever 'she' is, ya gotta do something about it, Liv. Either confront it, ignore it or give it up."

"You need to get laid."

Elliot's words echoed in her head. She leaned, back against the bar, legs spread slightly in her usual stance. Black leather pants, matching vest unbuttoned dangerously low, matching jacket tossed haphazardly on the bar stool. More than just looks and attitude, Olivia was the part.

The bar was dark. Etched in dim reddish hues. The corners filled with devices from de Sade's wettest dream, and all occupied. The sounds of music, chatter, moans, the cracks of whips, leather and flesh upon flesh filled the air.

Olivia eyed her quarry. She rose from her seat commanded by Olivia's glare. Almost six feet of legs, hips and blonde hair. A red bustier that barely contained her breasts with matching thigh high boots. And nothing else. Olivia cocked an eyebrow noting that yes, indeed, she was a natural blonde. She wasn't who Olivia wanted, but as the saying went 'if you can't be with the one you love, love the one you're with'.

The woman sauntered towards the bar. Olivia leaned in close, ran her nose along the edge of the woman's ear, whispered her demands. "Sit."

The woman did as instructed.

"Open your legs."

Olivia licked her lips as she slid between the long legs, until she felt the heat emanating from the woman practically begging to be taken. They always begged. She ran her hands up and down the smooth thighs. Pulled the bustier down just enough, forefinger and thumb grasping a perfect pink nipple, pinching just enough to reassert her dominance. The woman hissed a smile, leaning in for a kiss. Olivia pulled away, cupping the woman's chin with her free hand.

"I don't kiss." Blue eyes blinked in retreat as if wounded. Wounded at the admission and the idea that she may have displeased her temporary master. Olivia grinned. "I don't kiss. Unless you're good."

The woman tried to hide the smile creeping on her lips. Like a puppy that had learned to please its master, she couldn't hide her glee.

Olivia continued tormenting the woman's nipple with one hand. With the other, she slid lower. Until fingers met heat and flesh already wet and swollen like a ripened peach. She teased and tormented, plunging her fingers in deep then pulling them out. Until cherry lips moaned at every advance, whimpered at every retreat. Until she'd submitted her very essence to Olivia.

"I'm going to fuck you now." Her words low and throaty, fingers already working on her zipper. "You can scream if you want to, and you will."

She could feel eyes turning towards the two of them. Even in a place like this, where every kink, fetish and inch of flesh was visibly on display there were those who garnered attention. She reveled in it as she thrust all 8 inches of perfectly molded rubber from her harness (with matching clit stimulator, of course), hips firing like a piston. The legs of the bar stool clanked loudly on the floor with each thrust, threatening to topple over. Until the woman, the "not-Alex but she'll do", was screaming incoherently at the top of her lungs, begging, pleading, wanting more. Olivia gave it to her, harder, faster, deeper. Sweat beading on her skin, on both their skin. Muscles screaming for relief. Gasping and groaning until she was nothing more than a sweating, gasping heap of quivering nerves sitting on a barstool in a dingy fetish bar.

Olivia pulled out, tucking herself away. The eyes upon them, where moments before she'd reveled in their gaze, had now become an intrusion. She'd had her fill and found herself wanting. If she was going to scratch the itch that had plagued her for months, it was going to take more than a quickie on a barstool.

Olivia gazed down at the woman. At the Not Alex. Lifted her chin with her fingers until their eyes met. Examined the woman's features, the cherry lips now parted and panting, blue eyes barely open still glazed and dilated. She thought about the possibilities, of her Not Alex and all the things she could do to her.

"Grab your coat."

"Oral stimulation." Olivia grunted into the phone. She could almost see Alex smiling on the other end. Closed her eyes and imagined every line, every feature of that perfect face staring back at her.

"Or course. Verbally and physically. You can imagine how boring it is being the smartest person in the room, anyone who can pique my mind gets rewarded with piquing the lower parts of my body."

"So," She opened her eyes, gazed down at the blonde between her legs eagerly lapping away at Olivia's flesh, "You don't return the favor?"

"I didn't say that. But, it's definitely been awhile. It's an ordeal to find a smart bottom these days."

"Life must be so hard for you." Olivia smirked.

"Not hard enough, I'd say."

"I could take care of that for you. All you'd have to do is say the word."

"And what word is that?"


It wasn't Olivia's usual place. The lights too bright. The clientele too upscale, too rich, too mannered for Olivia's tastes. Not enough dirt, or grit, none of the openly raw sexuality she craved.

It was a woman's club as they called them these days. Exclusive judging by the décor. And expensive. She could see Alex at the bar. Long legs crossed casually, showing off more leg than usually exposed by the ADA.

Olivia approached, ignored the curious gaze of the other women, the scent of fresh meat in the air. She casually leaned against the bar. Stared at the blonde next to her. "How long are we going to keep doing this?"

Alex continued stirring her martini. Content she'd mixed her drink adequately, she pulled the swizzel stick from her glass, sliding it between her lips and twirling in a movement that could only be called pornographic. "Doing what?"

"This dance we're doing."

"As long as it takes, I suppose."

"I'm not begging."

Alex turned in her chair until she was facing Olivia. "Neither am I." She answered sternly. "See that woman over there?"

Olivia turned to look. An androgynous blonde with short cropped hair under a fedora wearing a pin-striped suit sat in a booth flanked by two women.

"She's like you," Alex explained as Olivia returned her attentions, "All swagger and attitude. The ultimate butch. In the end, she was begging me to fuck her, rolled over and spread her legs like a pro at an Enron Corporate getaway."

"Is that what you think of me? That if you show enough leg, cock enough attitude I'll roll over and play bitch. I don't care if you have a pussy that cures cancer.."

"Gold." Alex cut her off.


"I have a pussy spun from gold. Would you like to see?" Alex chuckled at the sudden look of temptation on Olivia's face. The lightening quick glance from Alex's eyes to the center of her crossed legs and back again.

"Fuck you." Olivia snorted.

"You first." Alex pulled her purse onto the bar, pulling a twenty and laying it on the counter. She slid from her stool, edging up close to Olivia, until the Detective squirmed slightly from the feel of breasts rubbing against her back.

"What bothers you the most?" Alex purred into Olivia's ear. "The fact that I don't switch, or how badly you want to but won't admit it.

Olivia turned around, until she was face to face with Alex. Their bodies so close they were practically inhaling each other. "You think you have me all figured out, don't you?" She took Alex's hand, placed it over her crotch, over the bulge extruding from its harness. Olivia wasn't sure how it had gotten to this point, but she had never been so sure of anything in her life. At that moment, she hated Alexandra Cabot. Like a steel coil wound too tight, the tension between them had twisted too much, turned too far.

"How many hot, sweaty nights have you spent thinking of me, of this. You have me pegged? Well, I have your number too. Maybe you don't switch. But you fuck and you get fucked. Except you're always left wanting, just something a little more. I am that something. I'm the itch you can't scratch. The twitch in your stomach that makes your legs weak. The ache in your clit that makes you wet. I'm big enough to admit I want you. I want you so bad it hurts. It would have been great, Alex. Hell, it would've been perfect. But, I don't beg. I don't plead. I don't play games. And I'm done playing yours."

With that, Olivia turned and walked away. Alex stood at the bar, watching her leave. Something in her turned. Maybe she didn't switch, but she could bend. She followed after Olivia. Fast enough to catch the woman but slow enough to not appear as if she was chasing her.

She grabbed Olivia by the arm, pulled the two of them into the bathroom before Olivia could protest. Deeper into the restroom, into a stall where Alex locked the door behind her.

"Jesus," She panted breathlessly, "What took you so long?"

Then, Alex blinked. Except, it wasn't in submission. Alex never submitted, never bent. For her, it was all or nothing. Complete victory or absolute defeat. Olivia could feel the heat within her bubbling over. At that moment, she couldn't even remember what exactly they were arguing about. She didn't just want Alex to bend, she wanted to break her, to feel her underneath her, submitting.

Alex was the first to move. Her hands gripped the lapels of Olivia's jacket, until her knuckles turned white. With strength Olivia had no idea the ADA possessed, she pushed Olivia against the wall as she crashed their lips together. Olivia regained a bit of her composure, pulling out of Alex's death grip on her lips.

"I don't kiss."

"Shut up." Alex retorted, pulling the woman back towards her. She was less controlled this time, tongue and lips working in tandem, hurriedly, sloppily. Teeth clacking together violently as she inhaled Olivia. She'd tell her later, much, much later that she didn't kiss either. But, with so many barriers to break between them, it seemed a minor admission.

Olivia twisted, turned the both of them until they were reversed. Alex now pressed against the wall. She snaked a hand between them. Yanked the dress up and over perfect hips. Caressed and massaged the smooth, completely shaved flesh between. Felt Alex's breath hitch as she slid two fingers inside, Alex immediately gripping around her. Slowly, deeply, she thrust into Alex, as if she wanted to memorize every inch of her. To know instinctively what made Alex moan, whimper, and shiver.

She could feel Alex shudder as she pulled her fingers out, leveraging their weight so as to unzip her pants. She pressed the length against Alex, grinding her hips, teasing her with the promise of penetration.

"Say it." She whispered into Alex's ear, applying more pressure with her hips.

"Olivia." Alex grunted, with a tinge of annoyance. She wouldn't submit, not even now.

"Say it."

"Make me."

The old Olivia would have turned and walked away, knowing that they always followed. That they would always beg. The challenge with Alex was she would never ask, never beg. There would always be defiance in her eyes. There was a reason she didn't bottom, Alex was born to be on top. There were many different ways to submit. It was a tiny one, but enough for Olivia. She'd make Alex submit. She'd make her come first.

Alex expected a certain roughness from Olivia. She didn't expect the tenderness with which the woman entered her, teasingly, almost achingly slow, as if to torture her through sheer pleasure. She pulled her arms tighter, hips matching the slow rhythm. Her fingers snaked through Olivia's hair, grip tightening as she increased her rhythm. Even now, she had to be the one in control.

For the moment, Olivia let her.

"Faster." Alex grunted.

"You forgot the magic word?" Olivia smiled as she jutted her hips, until their pelvises were pressed against each other. She watched Alex's face, the tightly closed eyes, her tongue as it snaked across full lips. At the hint of anger bubbling under the ecstasy. "Say it or I pull out. Walk away."

Alex's eyes snapped open, blazing angrily. "You stop now and you'll regret it for the rest of your life. And you know it." She leaned in, ran her tongue across Olivia's lips. Sucked the lower one into her mouth, biting hard enough to make Olivia hiss. Followed with a shudder that reverberated all the way through the cock buried deep inside her. "Now shut up and fuck me."

Olivia was a top. She didn't switch. She was the one who made woman beg, plead, whimper and cry. If Alex wanted to top from the bottom, she'd still have to be a bottom. Those thoughts echoed through her mind as she began thrusting her hips, drawing from Alex as if she were a well. Savoring every moan, whimper and sigh that exited Alex's mouth. The ADA giving as good as she got, writhing in Olivia's arms, matching her hips stroke for stroke, fingernails scraping across Olivia's scalp. She'd always found herself wanting. Now, Olivia wanted no more.

She could feel Alex's climax building. Could feel it in the hurried pace increasing. Hear it in Alex's ragged breathing. Felt the bite of pain as teeth cleaved into her shoulder. The muffled cry as Alex shuddered and convulsed in her arms.

They held each other for what seemed an eternity. Olivia bringing Alex down with slow, deliberate thrusts. She drew her lips across Alex's jaw line, until their eyes were level.

"Is this your idea of a compromise?" Olivia smiled.

"No," Alex purred contentedly, "I pretty much got what I wanted."

"That good huh?"

"Don't get cocky."

"Says the woman with a rubber penis still inside her." Olivia emphasized with a deep push of her hips.

"Well," Alex valiantly kept her eyes open, kept her composure as another shudder overtook her body, "There's still time."

"For what?"

"For me to return the favor."

Olivia shivered at the proposition. "Your place or mine."

"Mine. And Olivia. Don't forget your handcuffs."

The End

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