Do I Dare?

The path to the apartment block door was dark in the moonless night, the hedge on the right swaying gently due to the wind. A storm was evident off to the west, lightning glowing in the distance. It was late, just before 1 am. As a result most of the apartments were dark, as if they were empty. Rationally of course I knew it was just that most of the inhabitants were already in bed.

Reaching the end of the path I stopped in front of the intercom. As I reached out I could hear the rising howl of the wind indicating the storm was closing in. I reached for the buzzer, then stopped for a moment of contemplation.

I was involved with a woman with strong submissive elements. Our relationship was largely characterised by my dominance, her willingness to play the submissive slut and our mutual desire to push boundaries. As a result I was having the best sex of my life, almost all of which involved my PET satisfying any sexual desire I could articulate, especially those that involved her in a submissive capacity.

Every six months however, she liked to swap roles and would try to extract as much revenge as possible in one night. While I enjoyed the various pleasures that were inherent within this switch of roles, I also enjoyed the loss of control, although I recognised that was in part because I knew it was a temporary arrangement.

Even more compelling than the physical pleasure I would receive was also the possibility that I could be transformed into a mindless slut, willing to commit any act of depravity in exchange for an equally intense orgasm. It hadn't happened to date, but the concept was a long held fantasy.

This would be our third switch and for some reason I was significantly more concerned than previously. This was largely due to two factors: my awareness that she had been more tentative than she wanted to be during the first two sessions; and a conversation we had had a couple of nights ago to clarify tonight.

The agreed ground rules were basically the same as the ones I used with her: I wouldn't leave any obvious marks on her body that could result in an issue at work or socially and she always had the option of a safe word - not that she had ever used it.

Tonight however, she would have the same license over me: as long as I could still operate in a corporate environment, she could do whatever she wished. Even though I knew I had the option of a safe word, its usefulness was limited by my awareness that if I used it the session would stop completely at that point.

Almost at random, incredibly vivid images began to run through my head, mostly of our last two switched sessions, but also of things she had previously admitted to wanting to try.

I remembered the evil grin on her face as she clipped the nipple clamps on me and then tightened the grip until I moaned in pain.

I remembered licking my cum from her freshly fucked cunt, my whole world being her lips and pussy with brief glimpses of light as she rubbed herself all over my face.

I remembered hot wax being dripped over my body, the intensity of the arrival of the wax and the tiny burn marks it left on me.

I remembered being tied to her bed, face down while wearing a pair of her panties, then being spanked hard, then having my ass finger-fucked while she called me slut and whore.

I remembered saying "Hello slut" at the start of our first switch and her response whispered firmly in my ear: "Not tonight, bitch.

I remembered her shaving my cock, balls and ass while tied to her bed, cutting me with her razor then licking up the blood.

I remembered panties, wet from her juices, being forced into my mouth.

I remembered her squeezing my balls until the pain forced me to cry out for mercy, only for her to tighten her grip again after a tiny respite.

I remembered one of her long held fantasies to fuck/rape a man with a strap-on using long hard strokes that would rub the strap-on against her clit until she came hard.

Suddenly I realised that the question wasn't did I dare to press the buzzer, but rather, did I dare not to press the button. Taking a deep breath, I realised there was no choice. I pressed the intercom to meet my mistress and my fate.