She Lost the Bet
She approached the house with trepidation. She had lost the bet and she knew it, but it did not make the task of knocking on the door any easier. Had she won, she would have had a substantial amount of money deposited into her bank account and her life would be a lot easier. She knew better than to bet against him. She had seen no way of losing, but she had lost.
As the door swung open, she looked into the eyes of the man who would be her Master for the next 48 hours. She entered the house with a "let's get this over with" expression. He said nothing; he merely pointed to a spot on the floor and handed her a collar. As she knelt and placed it around her throat he handed her a lock. With a whisper of "Here goes," she threaded the lock through the hasp of the collar, hesitated a moment, then closed the lock with a click she thought could be heard a block away.
"What did you say?"
"Here goes?"
Grabbing a handful of her auburn hair, he said, "Here goes, Master."
She said nothing.
He pulled her head back, looked into her eyes and repeated, "Here goes, Master," with a little more emphasis.
She winced. As she repeated those three words, "Here goes, Master", she felt the last bit of resistance flow from her body and into the floor she was kneeling upon.
The next addition to her attire was a pair of handcuffs. Somehow, putting handcuffs on yourself is very different from having someone else attach them. She took them into her hands and examined them as if they were made of an alien metal. She looked askance into his unmoving eyes. He said nothing, just wiggled his fingers as if to say, you know what to do. She closed the metal around her left wrist and again looked up at him. When she started to prison the right wrist, he grunted disapprovingly. Looking up at him, she discerned his desire to have the cuffs locked behind her back. With the last bit of courage left in her, she placed her arms behind her back and locked the cuff around her right wrist.
He picked up a piece of chain about 6 feet long. Approaching her, he placed his index finger across her lips. "Kiss it," he said. He locked one end of the chain to the collar she was wearing. Using it as a leash, he directed her to stand and follow him. He led her into a spacious bedroom, and locked the other end of the chain to an anchor point on the king-sized bed. She stood there, not knowing what to do. He approached her from behind and placed one hand on each of her breasts, pulling her backwards until the chain was taut.
With his hands kneading her breasts and the chain pulled taut, she could not prevent her body from pressing into him. Her position and bondage gave her no choice; her hands were pressing against the zipper of his pants and she could feel his excitement.
On the bed lay a piece of cloth, six square inches, no more. He pushed her forward, bent her over the bed. He picked up a cloth gag, ordered her to open her mouth, and tied a knot, securing the gag in place.
He took his keys and removed the handcuffs. "Remove your clothes and put on the outfit on the bed," he said, then left the room, closing the door behind him.
She did as she was told, then paused in confusion. "Do I kneel on the floor like a slave? Do I lie on the bed, ready to be a sex object? Do I return to my original position, bent across the bed?" she thought. She decided the slave position would probably be the best.
After only ten minutes (she thought it closer to sixty) he returned to the bedroom. With an evil smile he produced yet another small piece of cloth that was nearly transparent. "Put it on," as he handed it to her. "It" was an apron made of white toile with black apron strings. The next part of her attire was to be the handcuffs and a pair of leg irons, each with a chain about two feet long connecting them together.
He unlocked the chain connecting her collar to the bed and directed her to follow him. He led her through the house, out the back door and into the garage, the door of which was open. Taking the leash, he wrapped it several times around her neck. He handed her a bucket and ordered her to wash the two cars in the garage. He pointed to the sink; there were soap and rags below. He gestured a very brusque 'get started', and left.
"Damn him," she thought, "I had hoped for more than being just a galley slave!" Here she was, dressed in panties, bra and apron, none of which really hid her body from anyone who might enter the driveway. The handcuffs and leg irons showed the world that she was a slave. They were long enough to allow her to work, or even to run away; leaving the privacy of the garage was possible, though not advisable.
An hour later, he returned to the garage. Her tasks had been completed, but not to his level of expectation. He pointed out several places that needed "touching up".
Unwinding the chain from her neck, he guided her back into the house. He took her into the bathroom and told her to clean herself up and dry off. He stood there and watched the entire procedure.
He then took her back into the bedroom and bent her across the bed. It was then that she noticed the paddle. He picked it up and started a sharp, rhythmic spanking. He told her the spanking would continue until she begged him to do anything he wanted.
The gag was still in her mouth, but it barely slowed down the sounds she made. After several minutes, those sounds were obviously an attempt to beg him to stop.
"Do you want me to do something else?"
She began nodding her head in the affirmative.
"Anything else?"
She was still nodding her head, but this time it was much more animated. He picked up a stainless steel butt plug, coated it with sex lube, and gently pressed it against her rosebud.
She began shaking her head in the negative. "Should I continue with the spanking?"
A moment of thought, then resignation. Her body accepted the steel, though her mind did not. He removed her handcuffs but left the leg irons in place. He removed the chain connected to her collar. He instructed her not to move.
He left for a moment, returning with a large bath towel, which he put on the bed. He removed all of his clothes, climbed onto the bed and lay down on the towel. An index finger under her collar summoned her to join him. He indicated that she should assume a kneeling position. He reached above his head for a bottle of what must be massage oil, and handed it to her. He spoke but a single word, "Massage."
The stainless steel in her body was becoming most uncomfortable. After she had massaged him for several minutes, he said, "Do you wish me to remove the plug?"
She nodded her head in the affirmative. He looked at her and said, "I'm sorry, is that a yes or a no?"
She began nodding her head so hard she thought it would fall from her shoulders.
"How much do you want me to remove it?"
Using her hands to indicate her desire, she moved them as far apart as she could.
"That much?"
She looked around the room, trying to find another way of expressing her desires. She looked at him, then tilted her head to the right, and extended her hands palms up in a silent, "what can I do?"
He took her hands and guided them to his semi hard erection. He said, "the plug stays in until I have reached an orgasm. Between now and then, you may enjoy me or yourself as much as you wish."
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