The Bet Read Free

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.
    My
eyes flew wide as they carried me in my iron chariot down the series of steps
to their waiting van I’d seen when we arrived, cleverly marked Bradford’s Bond
Services. My shock was because there was a man standing in the middle of the
sidewalk, watching us every step of the way.
    “You’re
Bradford?” he asked when we were right before him.
    “Yep.”
    “And
this is an example of one of your services?” the man asked, his eyes moving
hungrily over my body, particularly over my breasts and wide open cunt.
    “It
is. She’s our newest initiate. You can call her Fuck Toy. That’s all we’ll be
calling her for the next several days, at least.”
    My
eyes shot up to him, but he didn’t even look at me. All his attention was on
this strange man in the street. Bradford and Jones set my chair down on the
sidewalk, just inches from the stranger.
    His
cock was straining against his pants, right in front of my face.
    “Can
I touch her?” the stranger asked. He didn’t wait for an answer though. He just
reached out and grabbed onto one of my breasts and kneaded, hard and demanding.
    Despite
myself, I moaned into my gag.
    The
stranger’s cock twitched in response.
    “Why
don’t you get a better sample of what we do than that?” Bradford asked.
    Before
I knew what was happening, he’d loosened the ball gag from behind my head. It
fell out, and a massive stream of drool followed. I worked my jaw for a