Interrogation

"You mean you wanted to commit a gay act without being gay?"

"No. I mean..."

"You mean you wanted someone to force you to be gay so you could experience it and say you didn't have a choice in the matter. That's right, isn't it?"

"No. Not like that. I mean, yes, but it was just a fantasy."

"And now I'm making that fantasy come true. How lucky can you possibly get? Why are you resisting this?"

Christ, her logic was chasing me round in circles. I didn't know what to say. I decided to say nothing, so there was silence for a few seconds.

"Shall we see if there's a third vote in the room?"

Oh, fuck! I knew exactly what she meant. And I instantly tried to fight against the swelling that had begun the instant she had touched that bastard nipple ring. She moved back a little -- just a tiny bit -- just far enough so that I could focus on her again, and see that mocking glint in her eye and so she could see the panic in mine. She wasn't even in a hurry. She knew that I wasn't going to be able to make it go down.

Slowly, she looked away from her face and back down at my cock.

"Well," she said at last. "That looks like another 'yes'."

"Please. It doesn't mean..."

"I know what it means," she said. "It means you can't control it, doesn't it? It means that despite everything I say, every order I give you, it's going to get hard and leak everywhere, no matter who's watching? And everybody's going to see how little control you have over your cock."

"Yes. I'm sorry."

"Oh, don't be sorry. It just makes you so much easier to control. In fact... I'm even going to give you a chance. Remember that deal we spoke about earlier?"

It took me a couple of seconds to catch up to this fresh change of direction, but I did remember the deal eventually.

"You said you were going to pass me round," I answered.

"Yes, but that wasn't the deal. That was just a stated intention," she said. "Do you want to know what kind of deal I have to offer you?"

Well... that was hardly a difficult question. If it was going to get me out of this difficult situation.

"OK."

"OK, here it is. You just have to demonstrate thirty seconds of self control. If you can keep your cock perfectly still for the next thirty seconds, then you won't have to suck anyone else's cock tonight. Otherwise, you're going to enjoy a brand new experience, tonight. Is that a deal?"

"What are you going to do?"

"When?"

"During the next thirty seconds... if I say we have a deal."

"Nothing," she said. A pause. "Well... I might play with my toy, here." And she put her hand on my cock.

"You're going to make it move?"

"Well, that would hardly be fair, would it?" She slipped a finger underneath my cock, raised it up on one fingertip and let it drop. It slapped against my stomach. "No, that doesn't count as movement. What I mean, is it's going to move all by itself."

"If you're touching it, how do we know what kind of movement is yours and what kind is my cock's?" I paused. That question made no sense at all. "I mean..."

"Oh, I know what you mean." She paused and made a show of thinking about that. "OK, how about this? All I'll use is just one fingertip." And she held up the forefinger of her right hand. "This one. Deal?"

And there it was. All the details had been hammered out and there was nowhere left to hide. I could say 'no', but what would that get me? She was offering me a chance to escape. If I accepted the challenge and won, then she'd abide by her rules and there'd be no repercussions. If I refused it and then refused to do what I was told later, I'd definitely not enjoy the consequences. And one thing was sure -- a deal was a deal. Neither of us could even contemplate refusing to honour a deal.

There was only one response to this. She had skilfully manoeuvred me so that I had only one answer to give.

"Deal," I said.

She smiled at me. And her face lit up. And suddenly I remembered why it was that I had first consented to be her slave.

"Time starts now," she said. "Start counting."

"Thirty. Twenty nine. Twenty eight."

She turned to look at my cock once more. She looked very relaxed. In fact, she seemed to be in no hurry at all. I saw her lift up the bottle of oil and open it again, before drizzling a tiny amount onto the tip of her right index finger.

"Fifteen. Fourteen. Thirteen."

Slowly, very slowly, she reached out and placed that same fingertip on the root of my cock and let it rest there.

"Nine. Eight. Seven."

Shit. I knew exactly what was going to happen next. The bitch was about to fuck me.

"Five."

She drew her fingertip along the length of my cock. And then it got to that magic point, the bit where the foreskin joins the glans.

"Four. Three. Two."

And on "one" she slipped her fingertip across that point and my cock spasmed and reared up. And I lost the deal.

She said nothing. She just smiled. Picked up a towel and disappeared out of sight.

For a long, long moment I was left wondering what I had just done. What I had just accepted. What I was about to experience.

When she reappeared, she was wearing something black, sheer and very slinky. Her nipples poking through the fabric betrayed the depth of her arousal. She saw me looking at them and ran her fingertips across them, then cupped her breasts. Smiled. Made a show of checking her watch. Started unfastening my restraints.

I sat up and rubbed at my wrists, then swung my feet onto the floor. My head was still reeling.

The doorbell rang.

She checked her watch again. Smiled again. Looked down at my still hard cock.

"I think you better go and let them in," she said.