The Bet (2 page)

Finally,
he released me. “Turn around and straighten yourself in the mirror.”

Mirror?
He had to be joking. I spun around, and instead of the marble I was expecting,
it was a massive, floor-to-ceiling mirror that spanned the entire wall.

My
wavy, blonde hair was a fright, my lips were red and swollen, my light green eyes
looked dazed, and my tits were standing at attention under the satin fabric
like I’d never seen them do before. There was no way I could hide that. I could
only pray they would go back to their normal size and flatten out in the next
thirty seconds or so. In short, I looked like a sex doll, all ready for a good
fuck. Smelled like sex, too. Which, granted, I was ready for a fuck. But I was
also at his damn company Christmas party.

I
tucked a few stray curls back into place, but that was about as much good as I
was going to be able to do.

Dustin
chuckled. Reaching around from behind me, he tweaked my tits again, holding and
twisting and pinching until I was shoving my hips back into him. “Not right
now, babe.” He picked up a towel from God only knew where, used it to dry off
the wetness I’d left on his pants, and then took my hand, tugging me along
behind him.

I
guessed it was time to go meet Marina again. I said a quick prayer that she’d
remember me, because all of a sudden, my nerves had gone into overdrive about
what a weekend of doing everything Dustin wanted me to do might entail.

He
led me to her without stopping to speak with any of his friends or coworkers
first. Marina stood before the massive Christmas tree in a stunning, red silk cocktail
dress. Her red hair was in a tight updo to match the tight-ass way Dustin said
she ran things.

She
held out her hand as we got close. She didn’t look at my eyes, but instead kept
them trained on my tits. As had every other person in the mansion as we’d
walked through the decked-out ballroom.

“Dustin.
Glad you could make it. And nice to see you again, Carla.”

Carla?
Fuck.

My
mind swam with ideas of what this upcoming weekend would consist of, all of
them leaving my knees weak even as my pussy got wetter. I tried to pay
attention to the obligatory small-talk between Dustin and Marina, but all I could
think about were his hands and my tits, and getting the hell out of there so we
could get started. The sooner we started, the sooner it would be over, right?

Finally,
Dustin’s hand was on my back again, guiding me away from Marina and the rest of
the crowd. “Go back up to the mirrored alcove,” he said in my ear, loud enough
that I could hear him but not enough for anyone else to hear. All the while, he
kept moving my feet forward. “Stand in front of the mirror and knock three
times. I’ll see you shortly.” Then he took off, out the door we’d entered through,
without looking back. This could
not
be good.

On
wobbly legs, I went back into the darkened alcove he’d taken me into when we
first arrived. I stood in front of the massive mirror, my whole body shaking. I
still looked just as sex-crazed as I had before going to talk to Marina. If
anything, my nipples seemed to be even bigger than before. That might have just
been my imagination, since I couldn’t stop thinking about them.

With
way more caution than I use in almost any area of my life, I reached out my
hand and knocked three times on the mirror.

A
door opened up that had been invisible to the eye before, and two hooded men in
black flooded out through it and grabbed me. I screamed, but it didn’t matter.
My voice couldn’t possibly cut through the noise coming from the ballroom.

One
grabbed my hands and twisted them behind my back, locking them into place with
some sort of cuffs. The other shoved a ball gag into my mouth and latched it
behind my head. By the time the first bent to secure my ankles, I realized I
could have been kicking the whole time, if not for my shock.

I
whimpered, but that sure as hell wasn’t going to do any good, as one of the men
lifted me over his shoulder and carried me into the room like a sack of
potatoes.

He
sat me down in a chair, my bound hands pressed hard against the chair back,
then pulled my head up by the hair and pointed to the wall, which wasn’t really
like a wall at all. I could see everything out in the hall through it,
particularly in the spot where Dustin had pinned me up against it and made me
orgasm, because of the lighting just there. “See what that is, princess? A
two-way mirror.”

The
other man knelt down beside me, pulled off his hood, and started tweaking my
tits like Dustin had done, only harder. Tears flooded my eyes as I looked at
this massive man, easily over six feet and two hundred pounds of solid muscle,
and I cried out against my gag. Fuck, that hurt.

“Yeah,
that hurts so fucking good, doesn’t it, baby?” he said. His voice was deeper.
Meaner. That went along well with his face, with a square, stubbled jaw and a
long, white scar running down one cheek. Laughing, near-black eyes bored
through me. “We saw that whole show your boyfriend put on for us.”

For
them? What the hell was he talking about?

“Yeah,”
the first guy said, pulling off his hood, “we saw how you like it rough. How
you like having someone else take charge.” He was younger than the other one,
and just slightly smaller, with sandy hair and a goofy grin that belied the
things he was doing to me.

I’d
liked it rough with Dustin. That didn’t mean I wanted anyone else to treat me
like that. Hell, I wasn’t entirely sure I wanted Dustin to treat me like that
again. It had surprised the hell out of me, and I hadn’t had time to process it
all yet.

But
the dude with his hands on my tits kept twisting them tighter, and then the
other man, the one still holding a tight fist in my hair, reached his other
hand down under my skirt, between my legs, under my thong, and started rubbing
frenetically against my clit.

I
didn’t know what to do. My body was on fire with the most insane combination of
pain and pleasure and I couldn’t move for shit. I wanted Dustin. I wanted him
to be the one touching me and making me feel these things, so that I’d know it
was all okay.

And
just like that, his voice sounded from somewhere behind me. “I hired them,
baby.”

I
jerked my head, trying to see him, but clit-boy would have ripped my hair out
of my head before letting me move it an inch.

“It’s
okay. Let them do what they want to do with you. Remember, you lost the bet.
This whole weekend, you’ve got to do what I want you to do. What I want is for
you to submit to Bradford and Jones.”

Tighter
squeezing. More pressure. Faster frigging. Every nerve ending in my body was
screaming for release, electric tingles shooting through me. I moaned into my
gag, and a stream of drool flooded from my mouth onto my breasts.

“You’ve
got a submissive streak a mile wide, baby.” Dustin sounded like he’d moved
closer. I wanted him to touch me. I wanted him inside me.

Two
fingers moved into my pussy as though in response to my unvoiced need,
thrusting a frantic beat to match the other torture going on all over my body,
but it wasn’t enough. My hips thrust up off the chair to meet the fingers in my
cunt, and a third was added, stretching me, filling me, fucking me. I pressed
my shoulders into the back of the chair for support.

“That’s
right, baby. You’ve just been so fucking scared to let it out. Bradford and
Jones are going to teach you to embrace it this weekend. And so that you won’t
worry, I’ll know exactly where you are at all times. They have cameras filming
you and will non-stop, and I can watch the whole damn thing. I won’t let them
hurt you. You trust me, right? Trust them.”

I
moved my eyes all over, everywhere, trying to see Dustin because I knew I
couldn’t last more than a few more seconds. I wanted to see him when I came,
because as crazy intense as my earlier orgasm was, this one had the makings of
world-ending power. I needed to see him. But I couldn’t find him.

“Look
at me,” tit dude growled at me, using his fingernails to bite into my nipples
through the fabric of my dress.

“Do
what Bradford tells you, Jenna.” Dustin’s voice was faint, like he was moving
farther and farther away from me.

I
whimpered into my gag.

“Do
it. Listen to Bradford and Jones, both.”

I
obeyed. I locked my eyes onto the tit torturer’s cold, mean eyes just as the
world shattered. He released my nipples and I released my grip on reality, all
at the same time.

Fuck
me, this was surreal. I’d had three mind-blowing orgasms involving more pain
than I’d ever experienced in my life, and I hadn’t even been properly fucked.

What
on earth was I in for?

I
guess I’d passed out, because when I came to, I was in a world of hurt. I was
still on the chair of torture, but my arms had been resituated to where they
were locked behind the back of the chair. My shoulders ached, and I tried to
sort them out, but it was a no go. I couldn’t move my arms an ever-loving inch.

My
legs, too, had been put in a new position. They’d been separated, spread wide,
and were shackled by the ankles to the legs of the chair in some sort of spike
stilettos. I tried to pull my legs together, but it was no freaking use. They
weren’t budging, either.

For
that matter, my waist had a restraint around it as well, some cold metal that
almost bit into my skin, but not quite.

My
skin? Fuck me. I looked down. Sure enough, my dress was gone, my thong was
gone…the only thing left on me were metal and leather restraints, and those
crazy ass stilettos. Well, and the ball gag. Yeah, still drooling. Gross.

Not
only did all of my extremities ache from being held in such an unnatural
position, but my pussy was still a gaping, throbbing, needy ball of pain, and
my tits were on fire.

I
moaned into my gag.

“Back
with us, are you?” Hair and pussy dude. He came up behind me and scrubbed his
bare hands over my front, up and down, up and down a few times, spending extra
time on my breasts and pussy. Each time his hands came back up, he brought some
of my pussy juices with him, spreading them all over me. “I’m Jones. You can
call me sir, if we allow you to talk before the weekend’s through. Bradford
will be back in just a minute. You can call him Master. He’s just getting the
cameras ready to roll in the van, so your man won’t miss a minute of the
action.”

By
then, he’d started torturing my
already-so-distended-they-were-in-another-galaxy nipples. Of course, as I was
coming to learn, that sent a new rush of my juices straight down to my pussy.
Good lord, what was it with that?

Jones
let me go, and I moaned despite myself. He chuckled. “Oh, yes, you’re going to
be a fun one to break.”

“All
set,” Bradford said from back where Dustin’s voice had come from earlier,
though his footsteps sounded on the marble floor, hurriedly coming closer to
them. “Let’s roll.”

As
one, they lifted me as I was strapped to the chair and carried me out of the
room through a back door. It opened onto the street in front of the mansion,
which was lit up like a Christmas tree. The street light shone down on me like
a spotlight, which wouldn’t have been so bad if the place was deserted. It
almost
was.