tagBDSMSwedish War

Swedish War

bySalvor-Hardon©

"Damn it all, why cancel tonight of all nights?" She slammed the phone back on its cradle. "Friday night, new shoes, shaved my legs and everything, and the bastard cancels last minute. Men!" Amy had been looking forward to going out, to alleviate the monotony, get away from the rut she had been in for so long. All of a sudden it was another Friday night just so many others...

"Well no need to keep these on..." she kicked off her shoes and started undoing the zipper on her dress. As she had the fabric halfway over her head, the phone rang again. She tossed off the dress and went back to answer it.

"Amy, it's Jim. Are you busy tonight?"

"Not anymore. Why?"

"I just found a card game that you might like. Its called Swedish War. I need someone to play against to figure it all out."

"Cool. Give me a minute to get dressed and I'll be right over."

"Wear something sexy for me?" The slight hint of flirting was obvious in his voice.

"Curlers in my hair, flannel robe, and fuzzy slippers sexy enough for you?"

"Ooh baby, you're getting me all hot" he laughed.

She put on her breathy seductive voice "Just wait until you see my mud mask."

More laughter from her friend. "Ok, see you in a few then, you vixen."

Back in her bedroom, Amy debated what to wear. Tim was a nice guy; they had gone to college and were in a few classes together. After a few dinners here and there ended up with nothing serious or romantic. They had played Truth or Dare once at a sorority party, and she had planted a monster kiss on him. He sort of had the "deer in headlights" look when she pulled away, so she thought he had no interest in her. It might not be a romantic evening, but she was still in the mood to have fun. She left her black silk bra and panty set on, but slid into jeans and black T-shirt. "What the hell" she thought to herself and grabbed her boots with 2 inch heels and leather jacket. Maybe not her sexiest look, but the jeans were tight enough to turn heads and the boots gave her that extra sway in her hips.

After graduation, Tim had bought an old house just outside the city. Not more than ten minutes drive, but it was quieter and peaceful out there. He often talked about sitting in his hot tub and looking up at the stars for hours on end. "Damn, I should have brought a suit. Or maybe I can just talk Tim into going without one." She smiled at the thought of his reaction; it might be fun to actually try it, just to see how he would react.

The lights were on as she pulled into his driveway, so she walked right to the front door and walked in without knocking. "Hey Tim, I'm here."

Shouting from the kitchen, Tim called "come on back here, I've been going over the rules for the game."

The kitchen had a few sheets of paper laid out and cards for two people to play. Tim was just gathering them together into a single deck again as she sat down. Hanging the jacket on the back of the chair, she asked "Ok, so what's the game and do we play?"

"The game is Swedish war, and we play like this. The deck is divided evenly between us. From each half we sort through the cards to build the best deck for War, just like the game we played as kids..."

"We each put down one, and high card wins?"

"Exactly. But before that, you get to stack the deck, in a matter of speaking."

She tilted her head to one side and gave him a curious look. "Ok. Explain that one."

The cards were dealt out, half a deck each. Tim then drew the first card from his stack. "You take the first card. You like it, you keep it, but then you have to discard the second. If you don't like it, discard, but then you have to take the second."

"So for every two cards, I'm keeping one of them."

"Yep, so those middle cards could put either low cards in your hand or throw high cards into your discard pile... makes the game interesting don't you think?"

"Slightly confusing, but interesting."

Tim had been going through is cards as he was explaining, and soon had his final deck. "From your half, you should be down to thirteen cards. That's the deck you play with."

Amy went through her half and soon had a deck ready. "And then we just lay down one at a time? Doesn't sound that complex." She straightened her deck into the neat pile.

"Well it's the last rule that makes it fun. Whoever has won the most when we play all thirteen gets to tell the loser what to do. The loser has to do it. Regardless."

Amy's attention perked up suddenly. "You mean like truth or dare, but without the truth?"

"Unless the winner asks for the truth." Tim answered. "If you can't handle that rule, don't play the game."

Setting her deck down in front of her, Amy grinned at Tim. "Well, I've got nothing better to do tonight. Let's see what happens for a few hands." She slid one card forward.

Tim took his card and flipped it over. "Here goes..."

When all thirteen tricks had been played, Tim had eight to Amy's five. "Ok, since you teased me with the flannel robe, and show up in man-killer jeans instead... You have to sing "I'm a little teapot" in your underwear. Just your underwear."

This was the first time Tim had expressed any kind of interest in her, other than their harmless flirting. "Just my underwear, huh? What if I'm not wearing any?"

"Then I get more than I bargained for." His smile was wicked and mischievous. He leaned forward to lean his chin in his hands and watched for her to begin.

"Sorry darlin' not this time." She stood and moves away from the table to shed her shirt and jeans.

Tim was visibly impressed by her choice of "unmentionables". She cleared her throat and began to sing. "I'm a little teapot, short and stout. Here is my handle, here is my spout." She even did the motions as she sang. At the last line, she just sat back at the table, leaving the clothes where they lay.

"Aren't you going to get dressed again?" Tim was staring at her amazed at her ease with lack of clothing.

"Nah." Gathering up the deck she started to shuffle and deal the next hand. "I figure this might distract you enough for me to have my revenge next hand..." she winked as she dealt.

The distraction worked, Amy won nine to four. Tim was slightly blushing, waiting for her command. Amy copied his chin in hand posture and just grinned at him. "Now this can be anything I want... Anything?"

"Yep. Anything, I'm afraid."

"Fine, then we play the next round in your hot tub."

"You brought a suit?"

"Nope." Her grinned widened.

"Your going in with you're silks?"

"Nope..." Wider smile.

"Oh... OH!" Tim's eyes were a mixture of surprise and delight. He was taken aback, but he was glad to be taken there. "Good thing I cleaned it this afternoon..."

He pulled his own shirt off, and Amy took the moment to admire his abdomen and arms. Bending over to drop his trousers, Amy peeked around at his ass. "Good god, you could bounces quarters off that." She thought to herself.

They both stood looking at each other for a second. Tim broke the silence "So do we leave our skivvies here or take them to the tub with us?"

It took her only a second to wiggle out and step away from both garments. "I don't want them getting wet." She started toward the back door and the hot tub beyond. Whether to enjoy the view of her walking away, or because he was slightly stunned, Tim straggled behind and hurried to catch up.

Amy was just sinking into the warm waters when Tim was there with towels and the cards. Setting them on the edge, he sat opposite Amy, watching the bubbles play across the skin as she sat. "Well, we don't have a table, so we may just have to hold up cards and hand them across..."

"You mean I may have to lean forward, and sit up a little? But that would expose my...chest." She teased in mock naivete, crossing her arms to hide her.

"Oh we can't have that...or at least we can't have that unless you lose."

"So you like my boobs?" she asked him, raising slightly out of the water, yet keeping the nipples below the surface.

"Oh yes, very impressive. Matches your ass. And then with your legs...well, all around, quite impressive.

"So should I lose again, I can expect more prancing around? Showing off my assets?" She was teasing again.

"Actually..." He started. She could see the thought running through Tim's head and wondered what he was thinking. "What do you have planned for tomorrow, Amy?"

"Well, there was sleeping in late, then turning over and sleeping later, getting up taking a nap and then eventually going to bed. If I was feeling ambitious possibly getting dressed." Then a slight suspicion crossed her face. "Why, what are you suggesting?"

"One hand for the ultimate 'do anything'... twenty four hours of complete servitude."

"Twenty four hours? From when to when?"

"As soon as we finish the hand, then the next hour starts it." Tim glanced at his watch. "Which if we hurry, will be 10:00."

"Sounds good. Although I hope you can last a full 24 hours." Her mock naivete melted into full fledge mischief as she went through her deck. They both finished at the same time and looked at each other to begin.

They got to the thirteenth trick, each winning six. The single turn of a card would decide. Tim looked at Amy. "Are you sure you want to do this? This is the last chance to back down."

"I'm fine with it. I rather like the idea of having a slave boy for the day. Cleaning the floors, cooking my meals...mmmmmmm"

Cocking his head to the side Tim looked at her for a moment. "Alright. If you're sure..." he turned the card around to reveal the king of hearts.

"DAMN IT!!" Amy threw her card at him. "How did you pull that out? Did you cheat?"

"Sorry, Amy, but that was my honest last card. So. You've got five minutes of freedom. Any last requests?"

"Yeah, just let me soak in peace until then. Hot tubs under the stars are the height of modern living for me."

Tim made a mental note "I'll have to remember that." He muttered.

The next five minutes past in relative silence, the churning of the bubbles, and the chirp of crickets the only sound...until Tim's alarm went off. "Ok. Time's up. Out of the tub."

Amy stood and climbed out of the tub. "Wait, stand right there" Tom ordered. Amy stopped and turned to face him. She put her hands on her hips and began tapping her foot. "Uhn uh... that's not proper slave posture." He chided. "Hands at your side, chin up, chest out, eyes forward..."

She snapped into the position, yet held the defiance in her eyes. "Very good. Now just wait." He sat back into the tub and stared at her. The night was slightly cool, and a light breeze blew across her wet skin. As a smile began to stretch across his face, she realized that her nipples were hardening and pointing skyward. He just sat there, continued watching her react, and in the stillness of the moment, realizing that he was enjoying her without her control, she was enraged and aroused, both fires kindled within her.

The drops were rolling slowly down her form, when Tim broke the silence. "Now that you're at attention...go inside and fetch my clothes. You will dry me off an dress me when you return." Amy turned and left. She quickly gathered the clothes from where he had discarded them and quickly folded them into tidy squares before returning to stand rigid before him again.

"Your clothes... Sir"

"Well done, now a towel and to drying. And be careful not to take liberties with your hands, you are to dry me off, not feel me up." He stood up out of the water and stood before her with his arms extended. Trying to keep a flat demeanor, Amy could tell he was enjoying her efforts. Soon he was dry enough to be dressed. He lifted each foot only high enough for her to stoop and barely slide it past his ankles. Though it took a minute or two she touched him only as necessary and tried not to linger on his more sensitive spots.

"Well, you've proved suitable for a valet. But you might be better suited to being a kitchen slave. Let's go inside and you can fix me a drink and a snack." He merely walked away from her, but stood at the closed door. Amy was slightly shocked to see this side of the usually laid back and jovial Tim. Either he was a closet Dominant or had been planning this for weeks, she suddenly realized that he was waiting for her to open the door for him. With quick steps she reached the door and opened it wide as he passed through. Glaring at the back of his head as he passed, she followed him into the house but switched to the submissive expression as he turned around.

"There is beer in the fridge, and glasses frosting in the freezer. Make me a sandwich, ham and cheese, brown mustard and lettuce on an onion roll. Bring them to me in the living room. I'll be watching t.v." and he waved her into the kitchen. Amy watched him walk away, then set to the tasks. Making the sandwich first, then opening the freezer. The blast of frozen air struck her full in the chest, again tensing her nipples. "Damn it...next time we play, I am going to make him pay for this..." She imagined him in nipple clamps and other toys. The wicked grin lingered for a minute then she fetched the beer and poured it into the chilled glass.

Tim was sitting on the floor, watching the television as she came in. "Ok, good, bring it here, and I'll need a tray to set it on."

"Where are your trays, sir?" Beer in one hand, plate in the other, she was again in her slave posture.

"I don't have any. You will have to do it yourself." Not taking his gaze from the set.

"You mean you want me to..." There was a slight sputter and hesitation as she spoke.

"Yep, right here, on all fours. Hurry, I haven't had to discipline you yet, I'd hate to have to start."

Amy allowed herself one growl under her breath before walking to stand by is side. She knew better than to step in front of the television, then knelt down to hand him the glass and plate. As he took them, she bent forward and straightened her back to accept the dinner. The plate balanced easily enough, but she had to concentrate to not squirm under the chill of the frosted pilsner glass. Her ass was well exposed and her breast hung freely below her. Tim leaned over to peek under her ribs and then lowered the glass down below. "The head is a little too frothy. I need to drop it a bit." And as he spoke he lifted the rim of the cup around her breast, letting the already chilled flesh dip into the foam and cause it rescind.

"BE a shame to let beer go to waste like that" wiping the drops from her with his free hand. The brush was slow and deliberate, taking the time to let his finger appreciate their form. "Would you like a taste?"

His hand was before her face, mere inches away. The smell of the beer tickled her nose. "Thank you sir." She licked the droplets, and the saltiness of his palm. So close to her face, she saw the firm strength in his hands. She imagined them gently caressing her, the fingers trailing in small wakes behind them. Damn him, he was getting to her. Whether the adventure of the dare or the fantasy of the submission, or her own suppressed desire for him, she was beginning to enjoy the evening...and yet the constant treatment of subjection and servitude pissed her off just as deeply. "When are we going to get around to sex?" she thought to her self "Isn't that the ultimate goal of betting someone to be a slave?"

He replaced the cold glass on her hindquarter and set about to finish his sandwich. Every few bites, he would wipe his hand on the backside of her thigh as if it was a napkin, the touch was electric, but the gesture was so distant. Finally finishing his beer, he gave her a small swat on the ass cheek. "I'm done. Once you've cleared these and finished the dishes, we'll see what we can find for you to do next."

"Thank you sir. I'll return shortly." She gathered the dinnerware and hurried back to the kitchen. She quickly washed the dishes, thankful for the warmth of the water coming from the sink. Wiping her hands and turning around she saw Tim standing there, waiting for her.

"Now then...after deciding that you are at least good for dressing, cooking, cleaning, and since its too dark to determine if you can garden or drive, the only position left to test is if you are suited as a pleasure slave. That should take us through the night and give me an idea of agenda for tomorrow." His tone was even and flat, as if interviewing her for a job. She wondered why he was so reserved, so distant. Was this just a game to him and nothing more? But this "pleasure slave" idea...surely he must want something. Tim wasn't the type to take this so lightly.

Then she caught his eyes. He was staring at her, engulfing her in his sight. His gaze had wandered down to her smoothly shaved mound, to the glistening silky legs. She felt the folds within her begin to moisten in her arousal, and she was starting to breathe more heavily. He was taking a measure of her, burning her image into his mind. He looked her breast; the nipples still erect from the cold and now mixed with her rising emotions. They eyes locked as he looked at her face once again. He was not distant and cold, he was preparing her, bringing her to this point of absolute surrender.

"As my slave, I would just order you to the basement. As my friend I think I should warn you... I've..." He was blushing slightly and lowered his gaze just once. "I've..." he hesitated again.

"Sir. I know I should not interrupt, but my evaluation is waiting. We should continue quickly" that was all she needed to say to let him know that she understood, that she shared the fantasy with him, that there was no need for embarrassment or fear.

He extended a hand to her, holding a black leather spiked collar on the end of a chain. "Put this on." The order came more assuredly. He was her master once again.

Taking it from his hand, she fastened it around her neck, and then moved back into the slave posture, this time with less defiance, lifting her chest higher and prouder now. She followed as he led her to the basement door and down the steps.

The room was astounding. Along two walls were racks upon racks of whips, floggers, straps, and some items Amy had never seen. At the far wall from the stairs were two large frames, trimmed in cables, chains, and other methods of attachment. Track lighting nearly covered the ceiling. As they descended and stood fully in the basement, Amy noticed the control boxes under the stairs. She audibly gasped at the setup.

Leading her to the very center of the room, Tim took a small remote control from his back pocket. With the silent push of a button, four spotlights Illuminated a bright circle around her. She had to squint against the brilliance, but did not dare raise her hand to shield her eyes. "This is merely your evaluation. Perform well here, and then tomorrow you will serve for pleasure. If not..." he let the alternative hang unspoken. "The only goal for your evaluation is to give and enjoy pleasure. Let your soul be set free and give yourself to the pleasure. Are you ready to being?"

She nodded, and straightened again to the slave posture.

The lights dimmed and Tim approached with a blindfold. Amy held still as he fastened it around her eyes, preventing any light at all from reaching them. He had let the leash fall, and was guiding her by the hand toward what she assumed was one of the frames. He lifted one arm out in front of her, and she could feel him securing a cuff around her wrist. He pulled the buckle snuggly and then lifted it above her head and she heard the clip snap. He repeated the action for the other arm. And then secured each ankle in like manner. Amy could feel the air heating, so she assumed that the lights were once again bright on her. There were footsteps, Tim walking around, nearer...farther away...he wasn't talking and she was beginning to be afraid of what he was doing. There was an unusual scent in the air, she recognized jasmine, but there was more...soon she felt Tim's hand on her shoulders, with handfuls of oil dripping and the scent now stronger.

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