Sandrine's Bet Ch. 06

Author's Note - You can find a complete Author's Note at the beginning of either chapter one or two. Since this is the last chapter, I did want to take a moment to again thank Visioneer for generously extending permission to re-imagine his story Lucia's Bet.

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Sandrine knelt again on Danielle's command. Danielle didn't do as elaborate a tie job this time. She just quickly bound Sandrine's ankles and wrists and ran a rope between them. As she did that she was talking to Sandrine.

"So still think the Stars are so great?" Sandrine just looked straight ahead and didn't answer. "Well, you might want to notice which one of us has all her clothes on, and which one of us is buck naked and covered with cum. That give you any clues?"

Sandrine was again on her knees and bound, her body sloping back. In addition to the thick cum on her face, a wide, deep river of the substance trailed down her front and into her pubic hair. Her breasts were smeared with it.

Danielle took Keith by the hand and brought him in front of Sandrine, who looked impassively at the two. Danielle dropped to her knees. She opened and lowered Keith's pants and boxers and took his cock in her hand.

"Is this the cock you thought you were going to have a romp in the sack with? Thought it would be in your mouth? Or maybe it's the one you just wanted to tease? Let me show you what a real woman can do with a cock like this."

Danielle began to pump Keith's cock with her fist and to kiss and lick it. Then she put her mouth around it and started sucking. She worked on him for some minutes, heating up his package and her mouth, fondling his balls. She started to deep throat him, moaning deeply, making short motions with her head. Keith began to groan. His hands found Danielle's hair, and he began to run his fingers through.

After a few minutes Keith whispered, "Oh, yeah, here it comes, Babe."

Danielle brought herself back until just the head of Keith's cock was in her mouth. He groaned as he let go. Danielle dropped her jaw, making as much room in her mouth as possible. Her nostrils flared as she breathed through her nose.

When Keith was done coming, Danielle came to her feet and bent over Sandrine. She again grabbed hair at the back of Sandrine's head, although by now all of it was sodden with cum. She forced Sandrine's face up. Like she'd done earlier, before Travis, Danielle puckered her lips. This time, rather than saliva, Keith's cum began to leak from her mouth and fall onto Sandrine's face. Sandrine was too exhausted, or maybe to defeated, to even make an attempt to avoid this indignity. She just closed her eyes and let it happen. When the semen had finished dropping onto Sandrine's face, Danielle worked her mouth and then forcefully spat the cum she'd collected onto Sandrine's face. She repeated the procedure and spat again.

Danielle dismissively released Sandrine's hair. She moved behind and snipped her bonds for the last time. Then she pinched the back of Sandrine's neck and pulled one of her arms up behind her back. She lifted her - Sandrine had nothing left to resist with - and marched her to the door. She let go of Sandrine's neck long enough to get the front door open.

"I thought I told you to get the fuck out of my house, cunt," Danielle said and gave her a push. Sandrine lurched down the two steps to the walk and stumbled a few feet to where the sidewalk turned toward the driveway. But she continued straight. After a couple more tottering steps she fell to her knees and then fully on her front in several inches of snow.

I'd been so shocked I'd not had the wits to think or move, but I could see Sandrine through the living room window after she was off the porch. After she fell I made for the spare bedroom. Our coats were still on top of all the others, and I quickly gathered them and Sandrine's purse. When I arrived in the living room Danielle was on her second trip to the door, a few steps ahead of me. Out the door, she threw Sandrine's clothes into the snow. Sandrine was just coming to her knees. Danielle had the paint container in her other hand.

As I descended the two steps Danielle said, "You forgot something, slut." She dumped the receptacle of piss on Sandrine's head, turned, went into the house, and slammed the door. Sounds of glee and merriment resounded loudly from inside.

Sandrine was beginning to shiver. I put on my coat and then helped her into hers as she came to her feet. The coat was all she had on, her feet bare, so I quickly gathered her clothes, picked her up, and carried her to my car a short way down the street. There I helped her into the front seat. I came around the car, got in, and started the engine.

She was now shivering uncontrollably, bent over double. The cum on her face had congealed and her hair looked frozen. I wanted to comfort her, but I also knew she probably wanted to get away from this place. I calculated that the engine would warm up no slower, and likely faster, if we were moving, so I put the car in gear and started driving. It was about a twenty-five minute trip to Sandrine's place.

Within a few minutes the heat was coming up, and about ten minutes after pulling out the car's interior was becoming toasty. Sandrine sat up and opened her coat to allow the warmth to blow onto her skin. She reclined the seat as far as it would go. For the rest of the drive to her place it was very difficult keeping the car on the road. How was I supposed to not look at that incredible body?

When we arrived at the house she was renting I found she'd fallen asleep. I had to shake her gently a few times before she woke. She came to with a jerk, a sharp intake of breath, and wide eyes. She was disoriented. Her gaze fell on me at the same time her hands discovered she was naked.

"Michael! Shit! Why the fuck am I nak.....?" Then she closed her eyes. "Oh, fuck.....holy shit.....that bet." By now her hands had found the river of hardened cum down the front of her body. She followed it up and her hands began to explore the solidified semen on her face. Her eyes went wide again as her hands felt the helmet of congealed cum her hair had become.

"Holy fucking shit," she muttered. "It really happened?"

I nodded.

She let out a loud breath. "Fuck. Okay, let's go inside." She found her heels on the floor and slipped them on, closed the coat, and opened her door.

I gathered her clothes and purse and came around the car. She was already moving slowly up the walk. I put an arm around her with my hand under her armpit. It wasn't really necessary to support her. Although slow, she was doing fine on her own, and I just held her gently and let her know I was there.

I fished in the purse for her keys and opened the door. She headed right for her bedroom and I went with her. She turned and collapsed backward onto her bed and her coat was once more entirely open. Again, I had tremendous trouble keeping my eyes off her stunning body.

I tossed her clothes and purse on the bed and then went into the bathroom. There I turned on the shower to let the water run hot. The master bath had an enormous, tiled shower stall: about seven feet long and four wide with shower heads at both ends. When the water was steaming I moved back into the bedroom.

Sandrine was where I'd left her, and she seemed to be half in, half out of sleep.

"Hey, gorgeous," I said and shook her fully awake. "C'mon. You need to take a shower before you get to sleep."

Her eyes opened and she nodded. She kicked off her heels and held her hands out to me. I took them and pulled her to her feet. Once standing she let the coat fall to the floor. I walked her into the bathroom.

"Hey, I'm going to take off. Call me later if you need to talk. And take tomorrow off. I can handle things." I wanted to give her a kiss on the cheek or her head before I left, but I had no idea where I could put one.

She shook her head. "Come in with me."

"Sandrine, you're exhausted."

"Please? Please, Michael. Just.....please. It would mean a lot to me. I don't want to be alone yet."

How could I refuse? Any other time during the last five years if she'd asked me to join her in the shower I couldn't have gotten out of my clothes quickly enough and would have been certain I'd died and gone to heaven. Yes, her body was magnificent as she stood there nude. But she also looked so sad, pathetic, used. Tonight could not be more different than any of the other nights over the five years I'd known her. Now that I was sure that I was getting in the shower with her for her benefit, rather than mine, I was okay.

She stepped into the shower while I shed my clothes. Naked, I moved in with her.

Sandrine had her head under the pounding water, but she turned and hugged me briefly. My dick had been stirring. How it could not already be doing an imitation of a blue steel girder I had no idea. But the embrace accomplished that. My dick came rigid and moved right up in between her legs and pushed against her vulva.

"Oh, my!" Sandrine said in a sultry voice. She used her hands to indicate the mess she still was and said, "But hold that thought. Could you hand me the shampoo?"

The bottle was on a shelf at the other end of the enclosure. I turned from her, my dick leaving the warm nest it had found. It popped right up and pointed out the vent in the ceiling. Sandrine laughed, and it was good-natured, really a delight to hear considering the circumstances.

I brought the shampoo bottle over and indicated for her to turn. I squeezed a huge amount of the cleanser into my palm and began to bathe her hair. She leaned her head back and moaned.

"Mmmmm, that feels good. Thank you."

I nuzzled my nose against the side of her neck.

Sandrine picked up a rough, natural sponge, got it soft under the hot water, and squirted it full of soft soap. While I tended to her hair she began to scrub at the hardened cum on her body, rinsing out the sponge again and again. Meanwhile, I took the shower head from its holder and played the hot water all over her head, running my fingers over and through her hair. When I'd cleared all the shampoo lather I replaced the head, filled my hand with shampoo, and started washing her hair again. Truly, I could keep this up all night.

Sandrine seemed satisfied now with the front of her body. While I bathed her hair again, she soaped a washcloth and started to scrub her face. We went silently about our tasks, but as I finished with her hair, and she with her face, our hands started to wander. One of her hands reached behind her back and found my boner. I squeezed her shoulders, then I moved my hands to cup and play with her breasts while I again placed kisses on the side of her neck.

She turned in my arms and reached up to kiss me. I returned the warm osculation, and our bodies merged. My boner was straight up her front, ending above her navel. Sandrine moved herself to the right. She planted her back firmly against the wall there and pulled me into her again. She came higher and brought her legs up and wrapped them around my middle. There was no need to hold her up with my hands: the wall and the weight of my body kept her in place. I broke the kiss and used a hand to help my boner find her entrance.

Then she was sinking onto me, and her hips began to buck as she moved on my cock. I did my best to aid this effort by thrusting back at her. After just moments of this, Sandrine brought one of my hands to her mouth. She kissed the pads of my fingers, one at a time. Then she took the index and middle fingers, made them straight, and put her mouth around them. I felt her tongue swirl around those stiff fingers, and soon she was bobbing her head on them.

I've had sex with my share of women, but what happened then I'd never before experienced. Sandrine started to come, but I've never seen a woman have an orgasm like that. She closed her eyes, and they stayed mostly shut, but when they opened her pupils were rolled up in her head. She was grinding her sex against my abdomen, at the very root of my erection. She made loud and incoherent sounds of satisfaction, that I was certain she wasn't even aware of. Her sucking on my fingers became frenzied. I could feel her vagina spasm in a way I was familiar with: a woman in orgasm. Now she would begin to settle and come down from that high place, satisfied, just like most of the women I've been with. And, yes, she began to descend, but then she was back up at the apex, another orgasm ripping through her. She continued like this for some minutes: hitting a lofty peak, coming down a little as if she were in the saddle between two mountain peaks, then right back up again. I'm not a woman so I can't be entirely sure if what I saw was Sandrine having a series of orgasms, one after the last, or just one long, long orgasm, the kind that a man could never have.

After several minutes of this, Sandrine started to laugh. She picked up steam and soon was lost in hysterics. She moved like she wanted to come off, and I helped her in that endeavor. When we were apart she leaned against the shower wall, bent double, and then sank to the floor.

"Oh, my God, Michael! Holy God! Holy shit!" Sandrine had her head in her hands. "What was that? I couldn't stop coming!" She took some seconds to bring her breathing under control. "Holy shit, Michael! I've never felt anything like that!" She started to calm herself and held her hands out to me. "C'mon and help me up."

I took her hands and pulled her to her feet. She leaned into me, put an arm around my neck, and kissed me. Her other hand took hold of my hard-on.

"Let's get you taken care of."

"I could live with that."

Sandrine took my hand and led me back into the bedroom. She sprawled across the width of her bed and flipped onto her back. I knelt on the edge of the bed, delirious at my good fortune. She continued to wiggle away until her head was over the other side of the bed, hanging toward the floor. She brought her arms to her sides and pulled her knees up and back, a picture of how she'd been restrained on that dining table with the bath towels all over it.

She pulled her head up so she could see me. "God, Michael, I was so frustrated when I was on that table. I wanted your dick in me in the worst way, and not just because then everyone wouldn't have been able to look at my pussy all spread out like that. C'mon. I think I've got some more in me, and we've got to do something about that horn, horndog." She let her head hang down again.

I didn't have to be told twice. I walked on my knees until I was between her legs. Then I was into her. Both of us were still dripping from the shower. My boner was blue steel: turned on but not even close to coming. I was able to work myself up from the bottom of the hill, and it was a long, enjoyable climb. Sandrine brought herself with me. She climaxed again just before I did.

While I pleasured her and myself I thought about what was going on here. In the shower the combination of my cock stimulating her sex and my stiff fingers in her mouth had set her off like a banshee. Now she'd brought us in here so she could be in the same position as when she was restrained on the table. I didn't think I was far off the mark in concluding that as terrible and humiliating as her experience had been, at some level it also had to be a tremendous turn-on. I mean, I'd love to flatter myself that my cocksmanship had set her off like that, and I hope I was at least a small part of it. But, really, I knew that those horrendous hours of exposure and being used and humiliated had to have somehow been the trigger. The haughty, demanding, and demeaning terror of Dallas-Fort Worth service people had to have a balancing submissive streak.

In the coming weeks we had a lot of opportunity to talk about all this. Sandrine told me that, yes, her shame and embarrassment at being so naked and exposed, at being so powerless and subservient, at being the object of any humiliation Danielle chose to inflict on her, at being little more than a living sex doll, were beyond anything she'd ever experienced or imagined. But now the remembrance of her experience could get her motor in gear. She said it was something she was going to be working on for a long time to figure out.

After we were done and apart we got into bed without even making a trip to the bathroom. We started kissing and caressing again, but within a couple minutes Sandrine was deep in slumber.

I put a kiss on her forehead, dried myself, put on my clothes, and drove home.

All of that happened six months ago.

Sandrine called in sick the next morning. The reaction at our client's offices was mixed. Of course, the story made the rounds like lightening. With no pictures, though, there was no proof of what happened. She and I mostly worked in an office environment, and Keith and his crew were out in the field on the rigs. So, really, Sandrine and I got to control the narrative, at least in our immediate surroundings.

Opinion was divided along gender lines. The rumor was so incredibly outlandish. The men around the office either believed every word, or desperately wanted to believe. The women mostly thought the whole thing some crock of shit: the mouth-to-mouth concoction, each iteration more lurid than the last, of overactive male imaginations and egos.

I told Sandrine that she should just deny everything. But then one of the senior managers, a female senior manager, of the company called her in to tell her some very ugly rumors of a sexual nature about her were circulating, and that they seemed to have originated with one of the rig crews. She was a visiting executive. Did she want the company to pursue a sexual harassment action?

Sandrine decided to stake out a middle ground. Yes, she told the woman, she and I had watched a game at Keith's house. Yes, she'd made a wager on her hometown Stars. Yes, she'd lost. And yes, as a result, she'd had to strip and dance in her birthday suit. At that point the woman executive's jaw hit her desktop, and her eyes were wide, but the color in her cheeks was also high. So, some of the story was true, and likely Keith and his crew had started that, but who'd added, and at what point in the spread of the rumor that someone had added, all the rest would likely never be known. So, she asked the executive, can we just drop it?

She didn't want to get Keith and his guys in trouble. She couldn't share with the woman executive that every word was true. But she'd made and lost the bet, and she really had no cause for complaint. Maybe with Danielle, but not with the guys.

With the tamed down version confirmed, and somehow making its way around the office even though she'd spoken with the executive in confidence, the effect on people in the office was immediate and what you might expect. The men regarded Sandrine almost with awe. This hot number, who could rock even a skirted business suit and pumps, had been obliged to dance in her birthday suit? God, how hot is that!

The women got very, very chilly toward Sandrine.

We completed our work in Calgary in March and were on a plane to Dallas on the day of the Vernal Equinox. Now it's May. Sandrine is looking forward to her hockey league starting again in a few months. The weather is already sizzling in Big D. I'm happy to say the same can be said of the tiger of a relationship Sandrine and I have by the tail.