was hanging with my friend Karen one Saturday night, and we were drinking beers and watching a movie. Usually I am with a bigger group of people or with my boyfriend on Saturday night, but somehow just the two of us had ended up alone together at her apartment. It was about midnight when she came up with an unusual bet, and I took the bait.
Karen was drinking Heineken out of a big glass pint mug. I was drinking small glasses of one of my favorite cocktails, Amaretto sours.
“Hey, Miranda, do you ever drink that Amaretto stuff straight, or do you always mix it?” Karen asked me.
“Usually I mix it, but it is so smooth I can do shots quite easily if I want to.” I answered.
“I’ll bet I can drink three of these large pints of beer before you can drink three straight shots of Amaretto!” Karen challenged me. She can be very pushy and demanding sometimes.
“You’re such an idiot, Karen.” I told my friend. “You think you can drink 3 pints of beer before I can do these three shots of Amaretto?”
“Of course I can, Miranda. You’re such a lightweight.” Karen insulted me. Now I’m not the biggest lush in the world, but I can certainly down three shots of Amaretto in about 30 seconds. Even if she chugged each pint of beer in 10 seconds, our rate of drinking would be the same. Remember, the glasses of beer were in 16 ounce glasses, not 12 ounce glasses. Amaretto is very smooth liquor with lower alcohol content than most shots.
“You’re on, Karen. Let me make sure I am absolutely clear on this challenge. You are betting that you can drink 48 ounces of beer before I can drink 4 and one half ounces of Amaretto? Why would you make a dumb bet like that?”
“Do you want to make it official?” Karen asked me. She stared right at me with her dark brown eyes.
“O.K. What is the catch?”
“Well, first I want to lay down the rules. I get a one beer head start. When I place my glass down you can start to down your shots.”
“That sounds unfair. You only have to drink two beers while I have to drink three shots!”
“Miranda, think about it. The second I put my glass down I will still have 32 ounces of ice cold beer to slam. You will only have 4 and one half ounces of your liquid candy to swallow.”
“O.K., then why are you willing to place this bet, Karen?”
“Because I can slam a beer really fast, and I’ll beat you!”
“O.K., you’re on! Let’s get this started.” I challenged her right back, confident that I could easily win. The beer was cold, and I was sure she would get a brain freeze before finishing all three beers.
“Oh, one more thing. You cannot touch my glasses under any circumstance, and I cannot touch your glasses under any circumstance either.”
If I had been more clever, I might have figured out the trick involved here, but I naively thought that this rule was intended to make the bet more fair somehow; I thought it was to prevent cheating or something.
“All right, I agree to that rule too. Let’s do it.”
“Not so fast, Miranda. What fun is a bet without some stakes involved? That is the thrill of a challenge. Think about it. In a bet, there are two individuals; both completely confidant that they will win the bet. But only one of the two can emerge victorious, and the other one has to face the fact that their assumption was wrong. Are you completely confidant that you will beat me, Miranda?”
“Yes, three measly shots to your three pints of beer is not really much of a contest. I still don’t understand how you think you can possibly win, Karen.”
“I am confidant too. I can drink those beers before you finish those shots. So I have some stakes in mind. If you win, which you seem to think is very likely, I will be your sex slave for the day.”
This intrigued me. I had only known Karen for a few months, and I had heard a lot of her stories about wild one night stands, but I hadn’t known that she was bisexual like me.
“You’re bisexual, Karen?” I asked in a surprised tone.
“I swing both ways just like you, honey.”
“You never told me that.”
“You never asked!”
Hmm…Karen was very attractive, and I had wanted to fool around with her since meeting her at a mutual friend’s house a short time ago. She had long curly brown hair, and was very curvaceous. She was about 5″8, a little taller than myself, and she had nice firm breasts that I would have loved to touch. I had assumed that she was straight, because she was always talking about her boyfriend Billy.
“What exactly do you mean by sex slave, Karen?” I asked, seeking clarification.
“The loser has to do whatever the winner requests. Let’s make it tomorrow, to make the reality of winning or losing the bet sink in really quickly after we finish our drinking. When I say ‘whatever’, I don’t mean ‘whatever the winner wants, within reason.’ I mean ‘whatever the winner wants whether the loser likes it or not!’ The loser has to deal with whatever situation the winner throws at them. If you want to make me to lick your pussy and make you come all day, you can do that. If you want to put a dog collar on me and walk me around on the beach, you can. If you want to order me to give your boyfriend a blowjob, you can. This is all assuming you win, of course.”
I really wanted her body, and when she bent down to start pouring her pint glasses full of Heineken, giving me a great view of her spectacular cleavage, I was hooked.
I went to her kitchen to get her two more pint glasses and to get myself three shot glasses. I walked back into the living room. My shot glasses were standard one and one half ounce shot glasses. I placed all the glassware on the table, and started to pour my straight Amaretto into my shot glasses. Karen went to the refrigerator to get four more bottles of beer.
I sat on the sofa next to her. I lined up my three little shot glasses in a neat row. Karen opened her bottles of Heineken and poured them into the pint glasses, letting the foam settle. She lined up her three pints of beer next to my shots.
“O.K., are you ready, Miranda?” she asked.
“Let’s do this! So you drink your first beer, and then the second you set it down I can start to drink my first shot?”
“That’s right. But remember, I can’t touch your glasses, and you can’t touch mine under any circumstance. Got it?”
“O.K., I’m ready Karen.”
“Shake on it? You promise that you will be my sex slave tomorrow if you should lose, no matter what I ask you to do?”
“I promise.” I shook her hand.
“1…2…3!” Karen gulped her first beer. She hadn’t been kidding; she had the ability to slam a beer really fast. But it still took about 30 seconds for her to finish it, and I knew I could drink a shot in 10 seconds. I had been expecting her to put her empty glass down on the table and start to slam the second beer as I grabbed for my first shot of Amaretto. I wasn’t paying attention to where she put her glass as I downed my first shot. I savored the almond flavor of the liqueur and reached for my second shot. Then I noticed that she had turned her empty glass upside down and placed it over my third shot!
“Hey, what the fuck?” I asked her in bewilderment. It took me a minute to realize why she had placed her glass upside down on my third shot. We had agreed to a strict rule; neither of us was to touch the other one’s glass. Now I understood why. I was unable to get to my third shot!
Karen started to take small sips of her second beer. “Drink your second shot, Miranda, I’m slowing down!” she said while laughing. I downed my second shot. She kept taking small sips of her second beer.
“O.K., now drink the third shot, and you will be the winner, Miranda!” I reached for her upside down beer glass. “Hey, no cheating! Remember, you can’t touch my glass, Miranda!”
“You bitch. You’re the one who cheated. That is so wrong, Karen. You totally tricked me!”
“Yes, but I still technically won the bet. Remember, you agreed to the rules. You agreed to be my sex slave if you lost. Now I still have to finish my remaining beer and a half, but it looks like you will be my slave tomorrow!”
“Damn. Damn you! This sucks.”
“Relax, it is going to be a blast. I have so much in store for you, Miranda. I have been dying to take you for a walk on the kinky side, and tomorrow you will explore new horizons of sexuality.”
She finally finished her second beer, and leisurely drank the third one while I sat and wondered what she had in store for me as a sex slave. I knew that she had friends who were into S/M, and I feared that she would be into something like that.
I fumed while she finished her third beer. When she finished the last drop of the third pint, she removed her upside down glass that had been enslaving my third shot of Amaretto. I downed my third shot, clearly the loser of the bet.
“I have to go now, Karen. I guess I had better get some sleep so I have the energy for whatever the hell you plan to put me through tomorrow.”
“O.K., I’ll come pick you up in the morning. Go buy a dog collar at Wal-mart on the way home, and make sure you are wearing it when I pick you up in the morning!”
“Are you fucking serious, Karen?”
“Nah, just kidding. I’ll be at your place at 9:00 sharp tomorrow morning, and then the adventure will begin! Goodnight, Miranda, drive home safely.”
“O.K., goodnight Karen. Bye!” I stormed out her front door and got into my car. The whole drive home, my mind was whirring and racing, nervous about the next days “adventure.” I had a little trouble falling asleep, and I don’t even know what time it was when I dozed off.
Karen came over to pick me up at 9:00. She knocked on my door, and I let her into my apartment. She was wearing a nice black sleeveless dress. It was cut short, stopping above her knees. I hadn’t been given any instructions yet, and I was wearing tan shorts and a plain pink tank top.
“Hello, sex slave!” was her greeting to me that morning when she walked into my apartment. I was about to walk out the door, thinking I was all ready to leave, but she grabbed my hand and said “Not so fast! You have to get dressed first.”
I assumed that she was going to make me wear something really slutty and revealing. She handed me a plastic bag, and when I looked inside, I was surprised to see a black dress identical to the one she was wearing. I started to walk to my bedroom to change into the dress, but Karen told me to change right in the living room. Since my roommates were not home, I didn’t worry about privacy; I quickly stripped off my shorts and tank top so I could change into the dress.
As I started to put the dress on, Karen told me I still had to undress first. I quickly understood; I was not going to be wearing a bra or panties under the dress. If this day was just going to be about simple exhibitionism, I thought, it would be a piece of cake; I love displaying my body in public, and that wouldn’t be much of a punishment. I obeyed her directions, and removed my bra and panties. I put the dress on over my naked body, and it fit surprisingly well. It was made of a very soft material, and it felt good on my skin. I put on some nice black shoes, and followed her out my front door and into her red Saturn.
We drove to the Original Pancake house, a restaurant that specializes in high quality breakfast food. The wait wasn’t too terrible, and once we got settled, I ordered a coffee, a Western omelet, a glass of fresh squeezed orange juice, and a side of bacon, well done. Karen ordered something called the German Pancake, which was a huge pancake covered with lemon juice and powdered sugar. We chatted about everything and nothing as we waited for our food to arrive. I thought it was cool to be sitting in a crowded restaurant in a sexy dress with no bra or panties on underneath. I was waiting for her to make me do something outrageous. I was getting very curious about what she had in store for me.
“Don’t eat too much, Miranda, you need to save some room for dessert.” Karen said as the waitress brought us our coffees. I took a sip of the delicious gourmet brew, and asked her what was for dessert. She lifted her eyebrows and said “You’ll see.”
The food arrived quicker than I had expected it to, and I devoured my wonderful fluffy omelet and crispy thick cut bacon strips. The refreshing orange juice helped to wash the food down. We lingered over our second cups of coffee after finishing our meals. They didn’t have any dessert on the menu, and I knew that Karen was up to something.
“O.K., Miranda, are you ready for dessert?” she asked me.
“I’m a bit full, but what did you have in mind?” I responded.
“Something nice and tasty that won’t fill you up. O.K., there is no sense beating around the bush, Miranda. Or should I say ‘sex slave.’ I think that has a better ring to it. So, sex slave. Get down under the table and eat me out.”
Hold on a minute, I thought to myself. The restaurant was packed, and I couldn’t believe she was asking me to do that. “No way!” I protested.
She grabbed my hand tightly and gave it a hard squeeze. “I don’t recall giving you permission to decline my orders, sex slave. It is 10:30 A.M. right now; until midnight, when I tell you to do something, you will do it. You’re response will be ‘Yes Mistress.’ Do you understand?”
I wasn’t sure if I was prepared for this. I had no experience with dominant and submissive role playing, and I felt angry at her for having tricked me into this crazy game. Nothing could stop me from backing out now and going home. Karen would be really mad, but I had my own free will and I could quit at any time.
“Sex slave, get under the table and lick my cunt! Come on, there is a long table cloth, no one will notice.”
I made my decision. I was going to play along with her game. Sure, it was outrageous of her to ask me to give her oral sex in public, but I found that my heart was racing as I realized how exciting that would be. I surprised myself by looking at her and saying “Yes Mistress Karen.”
I nervously looked around the room to make sure no one was paying attention to me, and then I crawled under the table. The table cloth covered me pretty well, but if anyone glanced at the floor they would surely see my feet. I looked up, and was facing Karen’s knees. It was hard to position my body to do what she wanted me to do. I kneeled on the floor and spread her legs. I hiked up her dress, and noticed that unlike me, she was wearing panties. I pulled her lacy white panties down over her knees and legs and dropped them to the floor. I was very surprised to see that she was shaved bare. I put my face right up to her pink pussy lips, and started to kiss.
She put her hands under the table and roughly grabbed my head. She shoved my head into her lap, forcing me to eat her out. I let my saliva drip down to lubricate her pussy, and I started to eat her out. I was aware of the crowd in the restaurant, I could hear people talking and I could feel the vibrations as people walked by less then three feet away from me. It felt so weird to be kneeling on the tile floor of a crowded restaurant, giving my friend oral sex. I wondered what kind of expression was on her face as I gave her oral pleasure. I circled her pussy the way I would want a lover to circle mine; big slow circles leading up to small fast circles as I got closer and closer to her clit. I could smell her arousal. I centered in on her clit, and flicked my tongue right on it. I varied the movements; sometimes my tongue would circle her clit, and sometimes it would flick her clit. I also paid a lot of attention to the whole area between her legs, giving the pussy lips and inner thighs nice long licks as well. I knew I was pleasing her when she started to squirm, and it was hard to keep my mouth between her legs. I heard the waitress come to our table and offer her more coffee. Karen stopped squirming long enough to say yes, and then she rotated her hips even more after the waitress left.
I was having a lot more fun than I had thought possible. Being a sex slave hadn’t been nearly as difficult as I had expected at this point in the day. As I licked Karen’s pussy faster and faster, my mind was focused on what twists and turns she had planned for later in the day. I loved the fact that Karen had to keep a straight face while she was getting eaten out in a crowded restaurant; I stuck my index finger inside her wet hole, hoping to make her lose control.
A few minutes later the waitress brought her coffee; by the sound of her footsteps, I knew she was less than a foot away from me. I wanted to make Karen come while the waitress was there, but she served the coffee and left quickly. I kept right on licking and sucking her pussy while sliding my finger deeper inside her pussy, trying to rub her G-spot to make her explode. Suddenly Karen clamped her legs around my head tightly and roughly pushed my head into her lap. She looked down and whispered “Faster, slave. Make me come hard, and I will have mercy on you. HAH! Fat chance of that; just lick me good and make me come, bitch!”
This was the first time she had ever called me a bitch. I guess it was to help reinforce the mistress/slave role playing. I kissed her pussy lips and flicked my tongue on her clit hard, slobbering all over her lap as I eagerly lapped up her flowing juices. I kissed her the way I would have liked to be kissed if I was the one receiving oral sex; hard and fast. I fingered her cunt mercilessly, and she clamped her legs so hard around my head it hurt a little. I felt her pussy muscles clamp down hard on my index finger, and felt her lap push my head up. I had to put my free hand above my head to avoid bumping it on the bottom of the table. She squirmed and rocked her hips as she came, and I could feel her wetness as her pussy exploded. I knew that my face would be covered with female juices and my own saliva when I was done, and hoped that there would be a clean napkin on the table. Karen struggled to keep quiet, but I heard a small moan escape her lips as she experienced her orgasm.
When I felt her last contraction, I pulled my finger out of her sopping cunt and looked under the table cloth to make sure nobody was looking. When the coast was clear, I sat back in my chair and tried to look nonchalant. I reached for a napkin to clean the wetness off my face, but Karen pulled it out of reach, refusing to let me clean it off. “Leave your pretty face the way it is, slave, so people can see. No on will know what it really is, they’ll just think you are a slob. I like the idea of you parading out the front door with my pussy juices dripping down your chin.” I left her panties on the floor.
Karen paid the bill and we walked back to her car. We got into her car, and she drove around until we reached Biscayne Boulevard. She turned right, and then stopped her car in the parking lot of a strip mall. “Do you see that Wendy’s restaurant a block and a half down the road, Miranda?” Karen asked me.
“Yes, I do. Why, are you already hungry?”
“No. I just thought it would be cool if you got out of the car and walked over there. I’ll drive and pick you up in a minute.”
That was an odd request, I thought. I figured she was just playing a little power game to demonstrate her control. “Yes, Mistress Karen.” I said as I opened the passenger door and started to get out of the car.
“No, wait, Miranda. Close the door.”
I closed the door, puzzled as to what was going on.
“I want you to do it in the buff.”
“No way! I’m NOT walking down the street naked in broad daylight! You’re crazy!”
“Slave Miranda, I don’t remember giving you my permission to disobey orders. Remember the deal? You are my sex slave for the day, and when I say ‘jump’ you should say ‘how high, Mistress Karen?’ When I give an order, say ‘yes Mistress Karen.’ and then quickly comply with that order. Are you clear on this?”
I could have quit at any time, nothing was stopping me. But she was right; we had come to an agreement, even if she had tricked me into it. She had won the bet last night, and I had to pay up. I grit my teeth and vowed to myself that I would make it through the day, no matter how outrageous her demands became.