The Lost Bet 4

CHAPTER 1

It all started as a competition between Traci and Andy, not that the competition got out of hand, just that it ended up in places neither of them expected but which, ultimately, both enjoyed.

"Of course I can beat you at cribbage!" Andy playfully declared to Traci. They had been discussing favourite games they'd played as children on rainy weekend days or family vacations. Andy, ever sure of himself in matters of competition, felt quite sure of success.

"Not likely!" retorted Traci. Cribbage had been a frequent family evening activity growing up, and Traci had fond memories of playing with her father as a reward for getting her homework done, or just as a pastime on lazy weekends.

Thus, a bet was made. The winner of the game had to give the other a back rub. Unfortunately for Andy, the luck of the cards was not with him, and though the scores were close, he lost. Andy started dutifully rubbing Traci's neck and shoulders, but never one to take losing lightly, he proposed they play again. This time he wanted a new series--best 2 out of 3.

After a few moments of consideration, Traci responded, "Ok, that'll be fine. But we need to up the stakes quite a bit here, fella. You were so certain you'd win the first time, and maybe you will this time...but maybe you won't! What do you want from me if you win?" she cocked her head and arched an eyebrow as she asked.

"Something kinky," replied Andy. "Something different from our usual lives." Traci could tell he had something specific in mind.

"Spit it out, hon," Traci cooed. "I know you have a plan."

"What if loser becomes the sex slave of the winner? For, maybe, a couple hours?" Andy suggested, a slight pink of embarrassment playing around the base of his neck--Traci recognized the blush indicating it was something Andy wanted but was a bit shy about raising directly. They had never done something like this. While they had dabbled in kink, had a few threesomes, and played with some BDSM activities, this was clearly outside their normal sexual menu.

"Hmmmm..." responded Traci, pretending to think about it for a bit. "Keep rubbing and I'll let you know what I think."

A few minutes of rubbing later, Traci thoughtfully responded, "How about it's slave for the day? Like a job. Clock in at 9 AM, clock out at 8 that evening. I want to make sure it goes long enough that we have a dinner meal. Between those hours, it's master and slave, or mistress and slave, depending upon who wins. Deal?"

After a few seconds of thought, "Deal," replied Andy. If he had known Traci would beat him the next two games straight, he might not have thought it was quite such a good deal. The bet lost, and this being a Thursday, they agreed that the appointed day of reckoning would be in two days, on Saturday, giving Traci one day to plot her course.

Friday passed like any other day; Andy went to work, as usual, while Traci worked from home. Not a word passed between them about Saturday. When Andy brought it up Friday evening, curious as to what his day would look like, Traci just smiled and declined to answer with any specifics, saying only, "I'm sure it'll be diverting."

Opening his eyes Saturday morning, Andy felt a mixture of excitement and anticipation, mixed with just a tiny pinch of dread. He loved and trusted Traci; she would never do something to intentionally hurt him, hurt his feelings, and would never be vindictive. Still, she could be creative and could push his limits--she was good at that.

"Rise and shine, cribbage boy!" chimed Traci as she swept into their bedroom, having gotten up a bit before Andy. "It's 8:30, and you'll want to have breakfast before you go to work, my love, at 9:00," emphasizing this by ending with, " You go to work On. The. Dot." A smile played on her face, and Andy rolled out of their four-post bed and padded into the kitchen.

"What have I gotten myself into?" wondered Andy as he sipped his beloved Sumatran Mandheling coffee and ate his bowl of homemade granola, protein powder, and fresh fruit. Finishing his breakfast and stacking the dishes in the sink, Andy noticed there were no dishes from Traci's breakfast. "Has she already eaten, washed the dishes, and put them away?" he wondered.

Traci must have set an alarm on her phone, because at precisely 9:00 AM Andy heard it chime somewhere nearby. At that moment Traci walked in from their bedroom, looked at Andy standing by the sink, and announced, "You are now on the job, slave. Do you understand?"

"Yeah, I know," he sighed. "I lost the cribbage games, so..." Andy's voice trailed off.

"Unacceptable!! You are never to address me with such a familiar tone!" Traci said tersely. She then continued in the tone of a schoolmarm educating an errant pupil on proper behaviour, "You are not my equal. You will address me as your Queen in each and every statement, and you will do so with respect at all times. Failure to do so will result in punishment. Do you understand?"

Heaving a small sigh, Andy replied, "Yes ma'am. I understand."

"What did you just say?" she asked in an icy tone, glaring at him.

"I meant, 'Yes, my Queen,'" he replied with a slight sinking in his voice.

Traci's countenance softened, making Andy think he had avoided his first infraction as a slave for the day. He had not.

"Sit!" commanded Traci sharply.

Andy moved to pull out the nearby chair from the kitchen table.

"I did not say you could sit on a chair, slave," she snapped. "Unless given permission, you are not allowed to sit on any furniture." Andy sat down cross-legged on the floor.

Without further discussion, Traci turned and walked out of the kitchen, going to their bedroom. Andy heard some rustling, and a short while later Traci emerged wearing a lacy red corset. It barely contained her breasts, and Andy could see her nipples peeking over the top of the cups. She also had on a black, lace skirt that went down to just below her knees. It was billowy, allowing free movement, and was very nearly see-through, at least enough that Andy could ascertain she did not have on panties.

"Kneel," commanded Traci. Andy shifted into a kneeling position. Approaching him then standing over him, she asked, "What are you?"

Thinking for a moment, he replied "I'm your slave today."

A frown crossed Traci's face. "Obviously I have not made myself clear to you. After being educated, that's twice now that you have failed to refer to me as your Queen. You should have replied, 'I'm your slave today, my Queen.' I shall have to emphasize that point in your training later, I see. Is that clear?"

"Yes...my Queen," he replied.

"Good," snorted Traci, and then she stepped forward, standing directly over Andy's kneeling position, spread her legs so her crotch was directly in front of his face. Lifting her skirt and inching her feet forward, she grabbed the back of Andy's head, pulled his face into her crotch, and commanded, "Now lick!"

Andy leaned forward, opened his mouth, and began to lick and suck on his Queen's already very wet pussy. She inched even a bit more forward and spread her legs more widely, increasing Andy's access. His tongue flicked over her clit, he sucked her pussy lips into his mouth, he buried his face in her pussy and ate her as commanded. His head was never free from Traci's grasp as she began rocking her hips, feeling her first orgasm building. She pulled his face hard up against her pussy as she came.

Her chest slightly heaving and her legs still trembling from the stress and passion of cumming whilst standing over her slave, Traci backed away and lowered her skirt.

"Good boy."

"Thank you, my Queen," came Andy's reply.

"You're starting to learn! Well done! I think I shall call you 'prince' today. If you slip up too much, though, you may be demoted to stable boy. Understand?" she asked.

"Yes, my Queen," came the reply again.

"Now, go into the bedroom, wipe your face, take off your clothes, and put on what I have laid out for you today," she commanded.

Andy got up to do as instructed, expecting to find some kind of outfit to make him look...what? Ridiculous? Like a slave? "How does a slave even dress?" he wondered. He was, therefore, surprised when all he saw laid out on the bed were a leather collar and leather wrist and ankle cuffs--all red and each of heavy leather with bronze buckles. Sturdy D-rings next to the buckles left no doubt as to how the collar and cuffs were to be used. Thinking better than to question Traci about what was to come, Andy cleaned, stripped naked, put on the collar and cuffs, then strode back into the kitchen, his semi-erect cock leading the way.

"Well, you look very nicely dressed now, don't you?" cooed Traci as she sat by the table. "It's breakfast time, though, so get cooking. I want blueberry pancakes, butter but no syrup, scrambled eggs, and orange juice. But first, come here."

Andy approached and already knew better than to try to sit down. Traci reached out and gently flicked Andy's cock with her finger several times, causing it to harden even a bit more. She smiled, then gently pulled on his hardening cock while cupping his balls in her other hand.

"Whose are these?" asked Traci.

"They are yours...my Queen," replied Andy.

"Very good. I see you're getting used to this...learning how to behave a little better. Your punishment for your earlier transgressions has not been erased, however. That will come later. But first, you need to make me breakfast," ordered Traci as she released his cock and balls with one last, firm squeeze. With every passing minute she was becoming more sure of herself and her position of authority. She was becoming accustomed to being the Queen and, she realized, she liked it.

Andy blinked several times and was about to turn and start cooking when he caught himself. "Yes my Queen."

Andy was an excellent and efficient cook, and in no time Traci was mopping up the last of her pancakes, eggs, and juice. She made Andy stand, naked but for his leather accessories, across the table from her. From time to time she would look up at him, smile, then return to her food.

"Now, clean all the dishes and put them away, prince," she commanded after she finished her meal. "But first, come here." Andy approached and stood in front of her. While Andy cooked, Traci had fetched a toy from her dresser. It was a stretchy thick rubber ring, red like the shackles, that she now fit around the base of his cock and balls, where it sat snugly but not so tightly as to cut off blood flow. Attached to the lowest part of the rubber ring was a cord from which swung a small bell dangling a few inches past his balls. Whenever he moved, the bell rang its tune.

"Easier for me to keep track of you, prince," she explained. "Also, I just like the humiliation of you continuously advertising your services by ringing a bell!" With that she dismissed him, and so Andy attended to the dishes, making occasional tinkling bell sounds all the while. Traci removed herself to the living room and relaxed on the couch.

After finishing the dishes, Andy padded into the living room, jingling as he came. Traci looked up and smiled. Pointing to the floor in front of where she sat on the couch, she again commanded, "Kneel!" Andy knelt on the carpet in front of her. Traci sat forward and produced a red leather leash which she snapped onto Andy's collar. Using the leash, she pulled his head forward so her face was directly in front and slightly above Andy's face--the face of her slave.

"Let us get a few things clear, prince," she began, her face now inches from Andy's. "Today you are my property. I will take care of my property and use it as I see fit. Your sole job is to please me however I might choose. Failures will be punished. You will also be disciplined, which is not the same as punishment. Discipline is something you endure to remind you of your place, to strengthen you in your role as my property, and is not because of an infraction. It is for...you to learn discipline! Do you understand?"

"Yes I do, my Queen."

"Good," she replied with a smile. "I will make it very clear whether you are being punished or disciplined." Andy nodded. "Now stand," commanded Traci as she yanked upwards on the leash.

Andy now stood, directly in front of Traci, who remained seated on the couch in her corset and lace skirt. Leaning forward, she took Andy's cock in her mouth, felt its semi-erect warmth fill her mouth, and began to suck. As his cock stiffened, Andy let out a faint moan of pleasure. Traci, an expert at sucking cocks, cupped Andy's balls as she took him ever deeper, to the point her nose was directly on his pubic bone. She knew he loved that, and after less than a minute of sucking his cock was rock hard in her mouth, whereupon she leaned back, releasing his cock, and looked up at him.

"Understand, this cock is for my pleasure, not yours. You are not to cum unless I give you permission. Your job is to serve, not to be served. Understand?" she asked, now squeezing Andy's balls so firmly he began to squirm. Andy nodded, his erect cock throbbing in the air between them.

"Good," she replied with a satisfied smile as she released his balls. "Now, back on your knees!" she ordered as she yanked the leash downward. Andy sank to his knees in front of her. Shifting her hips forward to the edge of the couch and spreading her legs, she pulled the leash downward and forward, placing Andy's face again in front of her pussy. "You know your duty," she sighed as she leaned back, awaiting her pleasure.

As instructed, Andy leaned forward and began to again lick Traci's pussy, and very soon her second orgasm of the day washed over her as she involuntarily pulled the leash, forcing Andy's face up against her crotch such that he could hardly breathe as she came, over and over again in waves. Finally releasing him, she gasped, "That was nice. You did a good job, and so a small reward may be given to your mouth later. Now, wash your face and return here immediately."

Andy fairly dashed into the kitchen, his bell punctuating every step, and quickly wiped his face. Returning to the living room, Traci commanded, "Lie down," pointing to the floor. Andy did as commanded, his cock pointing skyward. Traci straddled him and guided his cock into her sopping wet pussy.

"You are not to cum," she reminded him. "This is for my pleasure, not yours," she emphasized, as she began to rock back and forth. Already aroused from the oral sex she had just received, and further aroused from the power and control she had over her prince, it was not long before another orgasm built. She felt it begin deep in her pussy then spread upward until it exploded in her brain in a storm of pleasure, lust, and power, leaving her gasping and moaning astride her prince.

Collecting her senses after the powerful orgasm, Traci noted aloud, "Such a good boy! My prince didn't cum! I think he is learning his place." She then lifted herself off Andy's cock, shifted downward a few inches, and sat straddling his thighs. Leaning forward she began pinching each of his nipples, causing painful pleasure as she tugged, rolled them between her fingertips, and occasionally gave him short, sharp bursts of pain by pinching very hard for a few seconds, causing Andy's eyes to close and his mouth to open in response to the strange mixture of pain and pleasure; she knew his nipples were sensitive, and she enjoyed toying with them.

Andy's cock, slick with Traci's juices, remained erect, but Traci ignored it. "Time for your punishment, prince," she said lightly as she stood up, pulling her skirt back down, still holding his leash. "Kneel," she again commanded. It was clear she enjoyed having him in that position--something new in their relationship--or perhaps she enjoyed the act of ordering him to kneel. Or both.

"We've talked about how you've never been caned, so I bought one and was waiting for the right time," Traci said in a singsong voice, smiling. "Already twice today you have not followed proper protocol in how you address me," she said archly. "What happens to my slave prince when he does not follow protocol?" she asked.

"I get punished?" replied Andy, swiftly followed by, "I get punished, my Queen."

"Getting better," murmured Traci. "Now, pull the Ottoman over into the center of the room," she commanded, pointing to the sturdy Ottoman they kept near the couch. Andy rose and did as instructed, his bell announcing his movements, his cock now only semi-erect, then stood next to the Ottoman awaiting further instruction.

Traci unclipped Andy's leash. "On your hands and knees," she then ordered, and Andy silently complied. "Now, crawl to the bedroom. On the floor by my side of the bed you will find my new rattan cane. Pick it up with your mouth and crawl back here with it like my good little doggy prince. Now go! Fetch the stick for your Queen!"

"Yes, my Queen," replied Andy as he began to do as instructed, the humiliation of being treated like an animal, like a dog--like Traci's bitch--starting to burn in his face. Unconsciously his head hung lower as he slowly crawled from the living room to their bedroom, his bell tinkling with every movement. In the bedroom he saw a whipping cane lying against the baseboard, next to Traci's side of the bed. Light tan, about 3 feet long, it had a wine-coloured handle made of tightly wrapped leather. Andy hadn't noticed it when he got up that morning, probably because it was not in his line of sight--or his field of interest--when he arose earlier that morning.

The cane lay tight against the baseboard, so Andy had to figure out how to get at it without his hands. Using his nose, lips, and tongue to coax the whipping cane away from the baseboard, he was able to get the cane into his mouth. He emerged from the bedroom, crawling with the cane in his mouth, just like a dog fetching a stick for its master, and crawled back to the living room, small drops of drool starting to run down his chin. Andy suspected that Traci had intentionally made it hard for him to fetch her cane, her stick, to further humiliate him. If so, it was working.

Once back in the living room Traci took the cane from his mouth and made a dissatisfied sound as she wiped the drool off the middle of the shaft. Traci then instructed Andy to lie atop the Ottoman, face down. The Ottoman was just long enough that it formed a perfect support for his torso, leaving his legs bent at the hips, knees on the floor, his head and arms hanging over the other end. It had never occurred to Andy when they had shopped for the Ottoman several months ago that Traci was searching for the perfect size and shape to use as a whipping bench. Recalling how particular she had been about the size and shape as they toured the furniture stores, it dawned on Andy just what had been in her mind all along.

Traci paced slowly around Andy, reviewing her charge as he lay, face down, atop the Ottoman, his naked body inviting and available, his soft buttocks calling for her pleasure. Seeing him like this, she was tempted to get their strap-on and fuck him in the ass right then and there, but she decided that punishment came before sexual pleasure right now. She knew she would enjoy punishing him, and she knew his body would be her source of on-demand pleasure throughout the day.

After what seemed to Andy like hours, but was only minutes, of reviewing the scene she had created, Traci began tapping Andy's ass with her whipping cane. Light taps, first on one ass cheek, then the other. When Andy stopped reacting to each tap, she knelt next to his head and leaned in, softly speaking into his ear.

"This is going to hurt you more than it is going to hurt me," she said with a slight giggle in her tone. They both understood she was inverting the old saying a parent might use before spanking a child, where the parent lies to the child, saying it will hurt the parent more than the child. Standing up, she took a step back and once again surveyed her prince, then said loudly, "Beg for your punishment!"