A Good Girl?

A Good Girl?

The weeks leading up to Christmas are always a special time for me. I love the buzz that goes around the workplace as the twenty fifth of December draws closer; colleagues forget their daily grumbles and focus on the positives in their life. I treasure those moments when I can sneak into the kitchen and munch my way through a mince pie with brandy butter, or indulge my sugar addiction with copious amounts of chocolate. But most of all, I get excited about the time I'm going to be spending with Jennie.

This year we decided to introduce a new tradition. The Friday before Christmas, we arranged to take the day off work, with the sole purpose of chilling out. We made sure we wouldn't have to worry about the children, as they would be staying with other family members. It would be quality adult time; to let loose and have fun. Such free time, in our busy lives, was prized far higher than any gift from a shop.

We wanted to spend most of the day relaxing at home - doing simple stuff like watching a sentimental Christmas film, reading a book and tucking into culinary treats. In the evening we planned to go into town to celebrate, but hadn't made any firm plans about where we might go.

As the evening drew in, we found ourselves snuggled closely together on the sofa, contemplating how to make best use of the remaining hours of the day. We were in no hurry to make a decision. It was great to sit back, without any pressures, and simply admire the decorations festooned around the house. In the background, Michael Bubblé was belting out classic Christmas tunes, while the sweet, fruity aroma of mulled wine graced our nasal passages.

I was the first person to make a suggestion about what we should do next: "I reckon we should have a special game of scrabble."

"Are you serious?" replied Jennie, "I thought you wanted to go out somewhere in town?"

"I do. But we can do that after the game. Anyway, I thought we could spice things up by adapting Scrabble, to make it more interesting." I allowed my sentence to tail off, knowing that I had piqued Jennie's curiosity.

"What did you have in mind? Is it going to be anything kinky?" Jennie replied with glee. She gave a cheeky wink: "After all, we are alone in the house, and you might want to have your wicked way with me, half way through the game."

I couldn't resist laughing. Jennie knew me too well. My mind was always full of smutty thoughts and fantasies.

"Tempting as that may be, I was actually thinking we should keep things simple and just play a normal game of scrabble. But the twist is, whoever loses the game, has to agree to be a sex slave for the rest of the night."

I allowed Jennie to digest this proposal. I wasn't sure whether she would be up for it, but I hoped the copious amounts of alcohol we had consumed since lunchtime, would lower her inhibitions.

"Ok. I think I might go prepared to go along with your suggestion. But, before I agree to this, we need to go through the finer details. After all, given my track record of whipping your arse at every game we play, I want to know what sort of things I can make you do, when you are forced to become my personal sex slave!"

Clearly, I had struck the right note with my challenge. However, I wasn't intending on losing the game. Would Jennie's confidence be her undoing?

"I think it's crucial that whoever loses, doesn't back out. Once we're both agreed to the rules, we have to go through with this. No feeble excuses to avoid being the sex slave."

"Yep, I'm good for that" said Jennie.

"The winner can instruct the loser to do anything they like, from the moment the scrabble game ends until the stroke of midnight tonight." I glanced at the clock. "So that's about six or seven hours as a personal sex slave, depending on how long the scrabble game takes."

"Hang on a minute", Jennie cautioned. "There have got to be some limits to what kind of things you can be forced to do."

I paused to think.

"Ok. The loser can't suffer any long-lasting physical injury because of what the winner has said or done."

"So would spanking or whipping be ruled out completely?" queried Jennie.

"I'm not saying that. If spanking rocks your boat, that's ok. But it's about us being sensible with the amount of force used."

"Well, I'm glad to hear that. When you lose you can expect some severe punishment from my hand!" Jennie slapped her lap in a pantomime fashion, to make her intentions crystal clear to me.

"The other thing is you can't be forced to do anything illegal. If that happens, you can say no."

Jennie still had more questions: "What if you are forced to do something really embarrassing or humiliating? I've got to warn you now; I wouldn't be happy if you posted photos of me naked on the internet or emailed the snaps to my friends or family."

I leaned over, and gave Jennie a big kiss on the lips. "I wouldn't do that to you, if you didn't want me to. But I think you're right – we can have two extra rules - no photography and we mustn't involve people we know or are likely to come across on a day to day basis."

Jennie mulled over what had been said thus far. I could tell she was imagining a multitude of ways to use, abuse, and humiliate me, if I became her personal sex slave. She seemed to relish the prospect of having total control over me and forcing me to submit to her every demand. I wasn't sure, if she gave sufficient thought to the possibility of losing, because within a minute, she confirmed her readiness to play this high stakes game of scrabble.

I think we both realised that whoever won or lost, the sexual adventure would be mind blowing. It was the anticipation, as much as anything, that was pumping our adrenalin levels. We prepared to do battle over this addictive word game.

We moved to the dining room table and the scrabble board was quickly laid out in the middle. Wine glasses were refilled and snacks were positioned nearby. We drew out seven tiles each and so the contest began.

It was a closely fought game. The lead kept changing between us, and there was never more than fifteen points between our scores.

To keep the tension going, Jennie threw in provocative comments, in an attempt to distract me from playing my best word: "I have to warn you, I'm expecting you to be a very obedient slave tonight. I expect to be completely satisfied in every way. I might not be able to take photos, but I can guarantee your face is going to be glowing red with embarrassment. But it will be worth it...for me at least!" gloated Jennie.

I had to point out that I hadn't lost yet, and she would have to be prepared for the consequences were I to pull off a shock win. The alcohol kept flowing in between rounds of word play, ensuring we were both feeling the woozy effects of the drink as the game neared its conclusion.

The final tiles were drawn from the scrabble bag. There was a palpable tension in the atmosphere now. The scrabble board resembled a completed crossword, making it harder to find available places to add words.

It was now my move. I looked down anxiously at the score sheet. Jennie was leading by twelve points and she only had two more letters to play. On the other hand, my remaining four letters were hardly inspirational - E, J, N and Y.

Up until this point, I had instinctively placed words without taking too much time to find the optimum score. But as Jennie only had a couple of letters left, I realised this was potentially my last turn, and I had to make it count. But what could I come up with that would see me across the winning line? I scoured the board for an available space and grappled anagrams in my head.

The pressure was beginning to tell. My initial optimism turned to pessimism. It looked like I was going to lose. Jennie observed the heavy frown on my face and sensed victory was near. She kept up the pressure, with her verbal teasing: "I can see I'm a few minutes away from another triumphant win. You'll have to accept, once and for all, that I'm the best scrabble player. But don't worry slave, I'll go gently with you... to begin with!"

I decided that if I was going to lose I had to go out in style. After all, this was supposed to be fun, and did it really matter who claimed the prize tonight?

I lined up my remaining letters and placed them carefully down. I used a spare N on the board, to create the word J-E-N-N-Y. I didn't know if it was an acceptable scrabble word, but I thought it would bring a smile to both of us. I did a quick count and declared my score as 15.

"I guess that makes me the winner." I tried to suppress a wide grin.

"Hang on a sec. You can't use people's names in scrabble. That's an illegal move, so I've won", blustered Jennie, "and more importantly that's the wrong way of spelling my name!"

I reached for the nearby scrabble dictionary and flicked to the relevant section. I took a deep breath. My eyes scanned down the lists of acceptable words. I gave out the biggest sigh of relief when I realised I had struck it lucky. I had indeed created a valid word to win the game! The tables were turned as I allowed Jennie to view the place in the book where my finger was pressed.

"I don't believe it!" gasped Jennie.

I leant across and placed my lips tentatively on hers. The kiss lasted a mere second, but it was enough to send a clear message to Jennie that I loved her.

"Right, Showtime!" I announced, jumping out of my seat with renewed energy. "Now, I've got a few surprises lined up for you. So just wait here, while I get things ready."

I bounded away from the table and went up to the bedroom to make my preparations for the evening's fun. I left Jennie shell-shocked by the outcome of the game. She never expected to lose and was now coming to terms with the prospect of becoming my personal sex slave. Disappointment welled up inside, as she realised she would not be able to live out her own sexual fantasies as a female dominatrix. However, Jennie turned her mind to the adventure that now awaited her. What would I make her do for my own sexual gratification?

Ten minutes later I was ready and I summoned Jennie upstairs. Jennie plucked up the necessary courage to join me in the bedroom. She wanted to show her willingness to play along with her new role. She lowered her head and performed a bow, to confirm that, for tonight at least, she was going to adhere fully to her subservient position. In a meek voice, Jennie spoke up: "You called for me, Master."

With a wave of my arm, I gestured to some clothing laid out on a nearby chair. Jennie glanced at the items I had placed on display for her benefit.

The most striking garment was a 'Naughty Miss Santa' costume. The costume consisted of a short dress made from deep crimson velvet. The dress flared out at the waist. The furry trimming along the hem of the dress was snow-white and there was a fur-lined hood attached to the back. Finishing off the outfit was a wide black waistband around the midriff. Next to the Santa costume I had placed a strapless lace bra and a pair of black leather boots.

Jennie's jaw dropped in surprise at what was unfolding. I had caught her off-guard by secretly purchasing these clothes in advance. Jennie's mind began racing – If I had got these items, what else had been planned?

I stepped towards Jennie and drew her into a passionate embrace. I lavished her neck with butterfly kisses and gently nibbled her tender earlobes. Jennie purred in approval, as I combined my kisses with dragging my fingernails up and down her back. My hands skimmed over Jennie's curves, sending tingles along her spine. Without a word being spoken, I grabbed hold of her trousers and pushed them down to the floor. My amorous advances continued. Jennie gasped as my fingers travelled along the edges of her knickers, teasing her inner thighs. I sensed Jennie succumbing to the physical pleasures. She adopted a wider standing stance. This gave my nimble digits access to her prized pussy. I seized on this opportunity and began rubbing my middle finger over her silk panties; following the contour of her slit. As I glided along this treasured pathway, Jennie's breathing became more laboured. Things were beginning to heat up but I didn't want things to boil over. Not yet. I stepped away.

I made my first instruction to my slave: "I want you to sit on my face so I can taste your honey pot."

I lowered myself to the floor, and sat back on my knees. I waited expectantly for Jennie to comply with my demand. Understanding what was needed of her, Jennie slipped off her underwear so she was naked from the waist down. She shuffled forward and stood astride me; navigating her needy pussy towards my hungry mouth. As contact was made, my tongue went into action. I devoured the folds of her cunt with licks and caresses. I continued my oral assault, by brushing the underside of my tongue against her pulsing clit. I began snaking my tongue deep inside her love tunnel. I was addicted to the taste of her succulent juices. I found myself in a heightened state of arousal just by inhaling her distinctive feminine smell. I would sometimes pause, allowing my warm breath to blow against her highly sensitive vulva. I could tell Jennie was enjoying my ministrations between her legs. She was trembling slightly, as she struggled to remain straddled over my head. The tell-tale signs of a looming orgasm were evident. She was beginning to swivel her hips with more urgency against my face, and she was making loud panting noises.

Much as I wanted to bring Jennie to orgasm, my plans for the rest of the evening would be ruined, if I continued with the oral sex. So with great reluctance, I backed away from Jennie's embracing thighs. I wanted Jennie constantly on edge; wondering what my next step might be. In this way, I hoped the sexual charge she was feeling now, would only escalate in intensity.

I reached behind me and grabbed a love egg I had hidden under the bed. Jennie was still standing in front of me, with her legs slightly apart. Without too much difficulty I was able to reach forward and insert the egg into her well lubricated snatch.

Jennie's eyes opened wide and she gasped: "What was that?" Her immediate response was to snap her legs together and back away from me.

"Don't worry. It's just a love egg. It's completely harmless." I rubbed my hands up and down her legs to reassure her that all was well. "Now I expect you to keep the love egg inside you for the rest of the evening, unless I give you an instruction to the contrary." I spoke with an authoritative tone, to make it clear what was expected of my sex slave.

"But it's going to fall out!" pleaded Jennie as she squeezed her legs tightly together and put her hands towards her private parts.

"Stop! Don't take it out! That's an order! Just use your vaginal muscles to keep it in."

To her credit, Jennie acceded to my demands and did not make any further attempts to retrieve the love egg from its hiding place. It was amusing to watch Jennie's facial expression as she adjusted herself to the prospect of containing the intruder that had been pushed inside her vagina.

"Right, I expect you to remove the rest of your clothes and put on the items that I have laid out for you."

Jennie quickly disrobed her remaining garments, so she was completely naked. Jennie then turned her attention to putting on the new clothing. Jennie realised I had not left out any knickers on the chair, so instinctively reached for a pair of her own underwear. She had not followed my clear instructions.

"I told you to put on the clothes I have provided, nothing else. I want you to wear the bra, the dress and the boots. I said nothing about wearing a pair of knickers."

"But if you want me to keep this love egg in, I need some reassurance it's not going to suddenly fall out as I walk about", Jennie appealed. Her puppy-like eyes certainly gave me pause for thought.

I deliberated her appeal and gave my considered response:

"This is going to be the last time I will allow you to challenge me. You are my slave tonight and you will do as I say. Any further disobedience will result in punishment. But on this matter I'm willing to offer you a small concession. I will allow you to wear a pair of tights under the Santa dress. That way, if the love egg drops out accidentally, it won't fall to the floor. I'm determined that when we go into town tonight, you won't be wearing any knickers."

Jennie digested this news as she examined her Santa outfit again. Judging by the length of the dress, there was a high risk that if she bent over, people would realise she wasn't wearing knickers. She thought about the implications of going along with my firm demands. She would be hugely embarrassed if a stranger caught sight of her derriere or bush. But she was torn by her promise at the beginning of the scrabble game. She was not the sort of person to welch on a bet. She had agreed to play the part of sex slave when she lost the game. She had to comply.

Despite her fears and misgivings, Jennie followed my request to wear the fancy dress clothing. She put on the bra, dress, tights and boots with due grace. I had done my research thoroughly and they all fitted perfectly. Jennie was correct in her initial assessment about the dress length. Her upper thighs were fully exposed above the knee-high boots; the dress only covered her torso with an inch or two to spare. Any sudden move and there was a strong chance she would reveal her private parts.

The low cut design of the dress ensured Jennie's sexy cleavage was also on full display. Her tits would surely draw attention from every passing male, and some women might also cast a jealous eye over her voluptuous mounds.

Jenny gazed across the room to see her transformation in the full length mirror. She wanted to laugh out loud at the ridiculousness of her attire. She began posing in a suggestive manner; cocking one leg as she began blowing kisses and licking her lips provocatively. Tiny giggles broke the atmosphere, as we both revelled in Jennie as 'Naughty Miss Santa'. I sidled up behind Jennie and placed my arms around her.

"I love you" I proclaimed with great sincerity. Jennie started to relax as I rubbed my groin against her bum.

"I love you too, but do we really need to go out tonight with me dressed like this? Can't we stay here? I promise I'll make it worth your while", whispered Jennie in a sultry tone. She turned to face me. She began French kissing me, while had hand slipped down to grab hold of my erection. It was difficult to resist such sexual advances, but I was determined to stick to my original idea of being in control until midnight. The next part of my devilish plan needed to be put into action.

"No. I think we need to go out now." I said, pulling myself away from Jennie's magnetising lips. "But before I order the taxi, I want you to put on some bright red lipstick."

"But I'll look like a proper slut in this outfit with red lipstick on."

I smiled and said nothing. Jennie sighed and reached for her makeup bag.

I have to confess that I was in awe of how sexy Jennie looked at this point. Jennie had straightened her hair earlier in the day and she was stunning in appearance. I was so proud that she had gone along with my whims. Deep down, I hoped she would find the rest of the evening pleasurable too.

Without more to do, I ordered a taxi. As we waited for it to arrive, I could sense Jennie's nervousness. For Dutch courage we had a couple of Baileys to steady the ship.

A honk of the horn, told us that the taxi had arrived. I gave Jennie a gentle squeeze and kiss. "You'll be fine. Remember, we're only going to meet strangers tonight. You don't have to care what they think about you because you'll never see them again."

"This is a complete nightmare for me. Can you at least say where we are going?"