lambda80
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You do NOT have the right to reproduce this is any form without my express permission.
I plan to alternate the perspectives, hard at work on part 2. Forewarning not much sex in this one but that will change. Feedback is most welcome.
The Bet
Cynthia sipped her glass of red wine at the game table of their pricy upper upper middle class homes study. She was sitting arrow straight and doing her best to appear both confident and alluring. It was a Thursday evening and the custom chess set she and her fiance Mark had ordered a few weeks ago had finally arrived. The set was beyond beautiful. The white pieces and squares were pure alabaster, the other pieces and squares a vibrant jade instead of the traditional black. The boards frame was a dark gray slate thus making the set cumbersome but ornate. All in all, truly a work of art. Both avid players they each emerged victorious or vanquished almost precisely half the time. She had the next day off while they refurnished her office and she was delighted to have such a stimulating way to start her long weekend.
Only 30 despite already being a senior level systems analyst for a very successful software firm, the smooth skinned, blue eyed, auburn haired beauty looked even younger. Hidden beneath the heavy oak table were her shapely legs, pressing against the soft cushioning of the antique chair was her large but toned ass. Her waist, while not tiny appeared to be next to her best feature, her 38D breasts. Firm but with a delectable tear drop shape they were just barely restrained by the tight, low cut top she had quite purposefully slipped into before dinner; there would be more than rooks, knights, and pawns in her arsenal tonight.
Finally Mark arrived, with a bottle of wine. With piercing blue eyes of his own, and a thick tussled mop of muddy river hair he was her equal in looks, intellect, and wit. At 35 he was a vice president at a leading hedge fund. Their sex life was frequent, if not always the freakiest. She was fucked daily, more on the weekends when things tended to move to the living room, shower, or bent over the kitchen counter. She blew him every chance she got, often sending him to work sucked completely dry before heading out herself with the taste of his cum still dancing across her palate. On a few occasions, mostly after too many glasses of wine, she offered up her ass for his enjoyment though there was some discomfort from it even with him being as gentle as he was. It wasn't then that there was anything missing from their sex life just a sense she couldn't shake that something about it was going to change, some great upheaval in it that would alter them both forever. She had begun to think for awhile that it was a power dynamic when after they returned from the club fairly drunk one night Mark pulled out of her mouth and shot his load all over her face. She could not honestly decide if she wanted it to be in her favor or his and quickly put it out of her mind, along with thoughts that things were about to change, it was just all in her head she thought, some subtle anxiety leading up to announcing a date for their nuptuals.
There was no trash talk, that wasn't their style, just quiet confidence and subtle smiles that said "bring it" more than words ever could. Mark filled his glass then topped hers off.
"In honor of the new set care to wager something?" Mark asked.
"I'm intrigued," she replied, a raised eyebrow indicating she really was. A split second of silence told her that he was letting her choose what the bet was going to be.
She was feeling good about tonight, she had the next day off, whereas he had to be up early, she looked good, already she'd caught his salivating over her tits straining against the thin fabric. She knew it couldn't be something small or cheesy. There were few chores, the cleaning service took care of that. He was almost certainly expecting something sexual...
Well big man, you're about to get more than you bargained for.
The smile dropped from her face, her eyes narrowed, almost as if she were angered. The kind of look that tells a man this bitch is dead serious. "Whoever loses is the winners slave for the entire weekend, no limitations, no exceptions, no resentment or analyzing what happened once it's over"
She expected him to try to laugh it off while still leaving it open as possible. To ask if she was really serious. To his credit he simply nodded his head and said "Deal. Lets begin."
It was a long, intense match with no clear advantage even after a good ten, then fifteen moves. Soon though after removing a excellently placed knight, two pawns, then most devastatingly of all a rook with only sacrificing a poorly placed bishop and one pawn it seemed Cynthia had the upper hand. Moving away from his typically aggressive, but so far sloppy play style, Mark moved into a defensive posture. Holding her off for move after move Cynthia began to rely too heavily on her queen as she often did when frustrated and unable to bring a match to a decisive end. Finally slipping she let out an audible gasp as his jade knight trampled over it removing it from the game. Marks agressive play came roaring back, placing her king in check even when there were better moves, limiting her every option, piece after piece falling to his relentless assault.
With that she tipped her king onto his side, relinquishing with it her freedom however temporarily.
Suddenly filled with trepidation, but unexpectedly aroused she assured herself thinking, It's surrender but just the game, just a weekend. Everyone will have their fun and it'll be back to normal in less than a week.
"Begin by setting the pieces back nicely, then put your wine glass in the sink,then join me in the living room and bring the bottle " Mark instructed her.
Her breathing shallow, the whole moment felt surreal. She didn't know what to say, what to think. The higher functions that would normally have been saying to blow the whole bet off, or admit you were in over your head, or cry or guilt your way out of this were silent. All her thoughts revolved around the radiating warmth in her cheeks and how with her fair skin they must be a bright red.
Wordlessly she nodded, and began setting the pieces back in their starting spots.
Why am I just doing this? Why am I not put off? I'm just playing along that's all. We lost a bet, we need to follow through on it like a big girl. That's all. We're incredibly turned on right now because it's going to involve great sex. That's all.
Putting her glass in the sink she thought about busying herself with the dishes, running to the bathroom or otherwise stalling. He seemed so serious though, it was frightening. She thought on what she would have done had she won, and immediately realized she did not want to be displeasing right now. Meekly she returned to the living room bottle in hand to find Mark sitting on the couch. He didn't look at her just held out his glass and said, "Pour".
"Ok." She replied.
"You will respond with yes or no when speaking to me and will call me sir slave" he said firmly.
"Yes... sir."
"That sounds much better. Repeat it for me so I make sure you understand."
"I will respond with either yes or no when speaking to you, my master. Sorry master" She replied staring at the floor.
What followed was command after command, some inexplicable like turn around, as though he hadn't seen every angle of her a thousand times. Some were embarrassing like describing just how wet she was,which was very. He knew now, that on some level she was into this. For the first time he seemed pleased, and that was more important to her than she cared for it to be. His final commands were downright humiliating, first he decreed that her breasts were too amazing to be hidden away. All weekend they were to remain exposed when behind closes doors, for a slave like her a thong and heels were more than adequate clothing. The moment she had stripped down to them she at his instruction she crawled over to him, kissed his feet and thanked him for letting her display her tits all weekend. She was mortified to be doing so, and it also caused her to cream her thighs again. She was a diligent waxer so there was no hair to soak any of it up, her already copious juices had nowhere to go. She swore she could smell her scent in the air. Could he?
She finally looked him in the eyes expectantly, thinking his next command to be sucking his cock or lowering her sopping pussy onto it. Seemingly reading her mind and yet to surprising her at the same time he instead said "Oh did you think it'd be that easy to get one of your holes stuffed? You'll need to earn that. Now go do the dishes."
"Yes sir."
The walk across their spacious living area to the kitchen was an ordeal all it's own. With the heels on every step caused the pendulous globes jutting from her chest to sway back and forth obscenely. She could feel his eyes on them. Filling the sink with water she tried to imagine what was in store for her later. If it was anything like what she was going to do to him it would be seriously intense. Scrubbing the dishes proved to be a bigger turn on then she expected. Not just from doing it topless, she had done a small amount of research into bdsm and knew enough that it was nonsexual as often or more than it was not. She didn't get it at the time but now this simple task that she'd done a thousand times without it ever causing a stirring in her loins was now subtly but noticeable eroticized. Almost too soon she found the task finished.
Returned to the living room to tell him she'd finished she found him gone. She proceeded to the bedroom and found sitting at the edge of the bed, strocing his already hard cock.
"Sir I..."
" I know. Kneel."
With the slightest hesitation she knelt at his feet.
"I think you've earned a chance to serve in a more... engaged capacity."
"Thank you sir."
"What form do you think it will take slave?'
"I could, um, give you a blowjob I guess..."
"No, not good enough, the old Cynthia would do that."
Suddenly it came over her, the overwhelming desire to be degraded, humiliated. She was probably overstepping her bounds, if he punished her for it though all the better. She'd stopped worrying, stopped caring, for now at least. She knew just what to say.
"Sir you should throat fuck this dumb worthless bitch until she sobs. She deserves to be, desires to be, needs to be treated like a whore you picked up off the streets. Show this eager slut her pla..ummmmpph!"
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The Bet pt.1 - 
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