Truth or Dare


Brett shook his head, his eyes alight. "No, he didn't. But I certainly did," he told her, much to Davy's immediate sour complaints that his friend was developing a tendency to kiss and tell. "Surprisingly, he let me."

"Always knew you were in the closest, Davy Parker," she turned it back on him, but it didn't have as much affect as it should have. Instead, his grin only darkened.

"It's not about gender, Elspeth Kate Henderson, you know that. It's about control. Who's got it and who's left begging at their feet," he told her, then reached forward and pushed the baseball cap, still on the floor between them, towards her. "So choose. Because it's your turn."

It was only then she realised the situation she was suddenly facing. He was right, it was her turn. What was more, it was his turn to decide what she would need to do to satisfy whatever category she would pull from that hat. Davy would be deciding what she would face; this man whom she had just done all she could to tease, annoy and disturb now held her fate in his hands. Even Brett seemed to sense this power shift and he pushed himself upright, laughter dimming as he paid somewhat more serious attention to what was going on between them. And well he might, she thought dimly as her hand reached out slowly to the cap on the floor before her. Brett could very well end up the deciding factor in this little game of theirs, after all.

"Well? Elspeth?"

Davy's voice, dark and anticipatory, determined not to let her escape. Her eyes flickered to him momentarily and she realised he was watching her hard. She knew better than to hope he would be kind, but she couldn't hesitate any longer, she had to choose and she had to do so now. Swallowing roughly, feeling their eyes upon her, his words in her head, she stuck her hand in the baseball cap and pulled out one scrap of paper, clutched hard in her fingers. Then she made herself open it and see what it said.



Brett held his hand out to see, but Davy didn't even bother. He only laughed. He knew she wouldn't have tried to lie about that choice, not when she thought even torture might be better than this. 'Dare' gave him free reign, it gave him choice, which meant opportunity. And she'd not only given him that once, she'd doubled it.

There was silence following her selection, silence as Davy merely watched her, thinking over his options and she merely watched him back, nervously, waiting to hear what he had in store for her. She had the feeling he knew exactly what he was going to dare her to do, that he was just letting her sweat it out for a bit first. Trouble was, it was working.

"Was I as hard as you expected when you felt me up, Elspeth?" he asked her suddenly, leaning back where he sat, a challenge in his voice.

"Yes," she murmured, for it was impossible to deny.

His smile turned darker and slowly he moved one leg out to the side, then the other, until he was sitting directly opposite her, legs spread wide before her.

"Then I dare you to come over here and do something about it with that pretty little mouth of yours."

There it was, finally out in the open. His words rang in her ears, at first it was difficult to comprehend exactly what he meant by them, for all his meaning was hardly obscure. But it was easy to pretend in those first few seconds that it wasn't as bad as she thought, maybe he didn't truly mean it, maybe he wouldn't really make her do this. Davy was her friend, he wouldn't do this to her, she must have misunderstood him. He wouldn't humiliate her so badly, he wouldn't force her to such sexual acts regardless of how willing she was, indeed, not caring in the slightest if she was willing, not even giving her that choice. He wouldn't force her to his pleasures just simply because he could, because his was that power. Not Davy, he wouldn't do it, surely he wouldn't...

But she knew he would. Davy, her friend, had a talent for taking power for himself and a tendency to use it as he willed and she knew very well indeed that he would do this and he would enjoy it, too. Enjoy seeing her humiliated, enjoy seeing her forced to a possibly unwilling sex act, enjoy being the one to do that to her. Enjoy, too, her mouth on his dick, for that was what he was asking, wasn't it? That was what he was demanding she do. And yes, she knew he would do it, because that was simply Davy and she had been all but outright provoking him to something like this all night.

She gulped back a shuddering breath, protests, arguments, desperate pleas all running through her head, but none of them made it to her tongue or past her lips. He was staring at her hard, but she found it difficult to hold his eyes, just as she found it suddenly impossible to find the words to refuse him. So she said nothing, as indeed, did he. He only waited for her to take up his dare and do exactly as he said.

"Jesus. Davy, maybe this ain't..." Brett began to question him somewhat incredulously, but Davy held one hand quickly up towards him, to forestall his words.

"She chose double dare. It's my turn to pick a dare for her," he cut in over the top of his friend, his voice hard, his eyes never leaving her. "So I have. What you waiting for, Elspeth? Did you not understand what I dared you?"

"I understood," she answered quietly. "But what if I refuse?"

His lips twitched, almost a smile. "You can't. That's not within the rules of the game, is it?"

"What if I think this isn't much of a game anymore?"

"Tough luck. Nobody ever said it was a nice game, did they?" he shot back, just as quickly.

She turned to Brett, whose eyes flickered from her to Davy and back again, briefly indecisive. If he came in on her side, she might have a chance at stopping this here and now, before it went further than she thought she was truly prepared to go. She bit her lip, wanting to ask him to help her, but one look at his face killed the words in her throat before they even reached her tongue.

Brett was frowning as he met her eyes, but not because he was troubled by this development. Rather, he was evaluating the situation, considering his options and she knew in the end that he would simply choose what was best for himself. Not because it was right, or more fair and certainly not merely to help her, or even Davy himself, for that matter. Brett would choose for Brett alone and she should have acknowledged that much earlier, because now it only left her trapped. Brett was as good at the dominance games as Davy was, even if his style was somewhat more subtle and he preferred to lovingly tease his partners into submission, rather than bluntly ordering their surrender. Different or not, however, it still meant she couldn't trust him.

She visibly saw him make the decision not to interfere. The decision to sit back and watch instead, maybe even to enjoy for himself. And she knew then she was to have no more help from him.

"Sorry Elspeth, but I gotta agree with him. He's right," Brett told her at last and Davy grinned broadly at the affirmation of his stance.

"Nice to know you come in on my side there, Brett old friend," Davy commented with heavy sarcasm. "Is the fact you get to watch me have my dick sucked part of the reason?"

Brett only laughed. "Perhaps. But you said it yourself, it's all about control," he admitted. "And I do like to watch someone who knows how take control. You're good at being a dominating bastard, if nothing else."

"Hear that, Elspeth? Looks like you're the one left begging at my feet. But that's okay. From what you've told us, you like that sort of thing."

She could walk out now. This was a game, one they were all willingly playing, no matter how difficult or confronting it got. Whether it be from Brett's betrayal of his crush by secretly making him perform for a silent, listening audience, to Davy's acceptance that he must allow Brett to put that anal plug inside of him, this was still a game. Yet it hadn't gone this far before, it hadn't evolved into actual forced sexual acts, at least not until this moment when she found herself trapped by his lusts and Brett's own easy desire to watch. She had deliberately tempted Davy, deliberately challenged him so, even knowing what he was like. Now he had risen to that challenge she found herself afraid. But she had manoeuvred herself into this position and now she could not avoid it.

Unable to think of anything else to do, she hesitantly pushed herself forward, towards him, still not quite sure even as she did so that she could, or would, go through with this. Their eyes were hard upon her, expectation and anticipation weighing down their stares, but she could not make herself look up and match them, she simply could not meet their eyes now. Instead, she only hovered somewhere before him, reaching that place on the floor between his opened legs, but unable to go any further and just staring, for the moment, at the crotch of his jeans. Her hands had felt there before, she knew what awaited her there. Long seconds of silence and staring. Then, because she had little other choice, she slowly reached out to try and complete her dare.

Her hands were shaking and she silently cursed them, for they made her fumble with the buttoned fly of his jeans, which gave her more seconds to think, to acknowledge just what she was doing and why. She didn't want to think, she didn't want to consider any of it, rather just do it, get it over with and be done, that was all she needed to concentrate on now. But he didn't even let her have that much, his hands came down to engulf hers, not so much helping her undo the buttons as directing her in the way to do it, not to mention ensuring she did not chicken out at the same time. Even now he taking control and she helpless to stop him. Her eyes flickered up, she couldn't help it, but his intense gaze frightened her, or at least, her own reaction to it did. There was real dark lust in his gaze, a power and brutal possessiveness which was not so kind and it frightened her to think she liked it when he looked at her that way.

She didn't even have time to take things slowly, to try and get a grip on her own mind before he forced her to take a grip of him. His hands pushed her own down inside his underpants the very moment his jeans were undone and for the first time she felt there skin on skin what she had previously only felt through the clothing he wore. He was hard, very hard indeed, but she had known that before, she had felt that before, and as her fingers curled there was a flash of an image, unbidden, unwanted, in her head. Thoughts, visions, of what it would be like to have this inside of her, hard and masculine and so very dominant, to be impaled upon him, brutal and fast and rough. She tried to shake it out of her head, she did not want to think like that, but her body heated immediately even as her cheeks flamed red and she shifted uncomfortably beneath their gazes. Their stares left her feeling embarrassed, humiliated even. Yet that was the point, she knew enough how these games were played; she knew enough how he played and thus far he had played her very well indeed.

Beneath her hands, she felt his sex, long and thick and wet with pre-cum at the end. Slowly now she began to take it out, pushing down the waistband of his pants, pulling from his clothing that which seemed to strain to be free of it anyway. Yet when she had done so, she faltered, as if unsure what to do now, as if she were some teenager who knew nothing and not a grown woman with real experience of her own. She faltered and stared desperately at that strong, hard, masculine organ, longer than she had expected, thicker than she had thought, simultaneously frightening and fascinating. As if it were this and this alone which could conquer her, but also this and this alone which could release her from all worldly bonds, this thing which made her falter so badly, his dick within her hands.

She hesitated and she stared, but then she felt his hands again, this time at her shoulders and they were starting to push her downwards. She tried to resist at first, suddenly growing frightened, but he only pushed harder and would not let her escape.

"I dare you, Elspeth. I dare you to taste it," he whispered darkly, pushing her head down towards him. "What was the word you used, Brett? On the phone to that slut boy of yours?"

"Ah, I had him indulge in a little worship. Thought you'd be familiar with that one already, Davy, it's a useful turn of phrase in such situations," Brett's voice was laconic, amused.

"That's it. Go on, Elspeth, worship my dick as if it were your one, true god," he all but sneered at her. "As if I were your one true god. I dare you."

She was struggling against him, knowing she would have to do it, but frightened at the strength with which he was forcing her, frightened simply of him. Brett was sitting close, she could feel him right by her side and he laughed, enjoying her fear almost as much as Davy did.

"You know, Davy, it was a double dare," he reminded them then, his timing too perfect for their purposes to be genuinely accidental. "What else do you dare her to do?"

Davy's laugh was low. He knew exactly what else he wanted to dare her to do.

"To swallow every fucking drop," he said and she gasped, but had no more time to try and protest, because all of a sudden his hands were at the back of her head and now he used real strength to drag her down towards him. She was pushed to her side with the force of it, off balance and unable to fight him as she was confronted suddenly by his sex so close up, her face to his groin, her head forced between his legs. Suddenly, this was all she could see, all she could know. He allowed her no time, she could not think or consider or struggle, she could only open her lips and take his cock all the way in and try to deal as she was suddenly, quickly, forced her down far harder than she could cope with. It made her choke, coughing and spluttering, but he would not allow her back up, not even as she struggled to breath and tried desperately not to panic.

He held her there, struggling fast, gagging on his cock as her eyes started to water and she fought with that sudden panic, the terror in being unable to breath. Yet he would not let her back up, he only held her down hard and without mercy, until in the end there was nothing else she could do. She had to conquer her panic, she had to force herself to relax, to breath through her nose and to stop fighting, because fighting only made it worse. She could not fight this. He was right, Brett was right, these were the rules of the game and he had every right to make her do this, and she had no right to protest. Making it through that initial, gagging terror taught her one thing, at least. She could not fight. She had to accept.

For several long, panicked seconds she was sprawled there, half kneeling, half lying on the floor between his legs, his dick hard in her mouth and pushed in all the way and his hands at the back of her head, holding her there fast. Then she made the conscious effort to force herself to relax, to accept this as her task, as a duty she must see to. To accept this as something she must do for him, simply because he had chosen for her to do it. Slowly, finding she could breath through her nose after all, that if she did not struggle and did not fight then she would stop gagging and choking, she tentatively began to try and move her tongue about him, to feel him as best as she could inside her mouth.

He had dared her to taste him, to please him, and so she must. She must do all she could to provide him such pleasure, disregarding all else, whether that be Brett's eyes hard upon her, her own embarrassment and humiliation, or even the damp spread between her own legs. It was only him who mattered now, his body, his pleasure, his sex in her mouth. A focus for her worship.

As he felt her begin to relax, to move her tongue slowly, to use her lips, her mouth to suck upon him a little now, the pressure at the back of her head began to lessen and his hands began to move away. She took this as her cue she was doing something right and so carefully, slowly, she began to draw back a little, to move a little more upon him. Not much at first, she did not dare risk pulling right back yet or taking her mouth from around him for fear of what he would do, the reprisals she was sure would come if he thought she were rebelling again. Yet she would not rebel now, she would not resist. She needed to see to his pleasure, she had accepted that now. So instead she concentrated hard on using her tongue and her lips and all of her mouth to stimulate him as best she could, to provide for him the most pleasure possible, and only hope she was good enough to please him.

At first she was too afraid to do anything but keep it very simple, her hands still shaking as she shifted her weight so she could draw her mouth further up the shaft, then back down again, swirling her tongue over the head and sucking back gently as she did so. As she explored the feel of him, however, his hands moved right away from her shoulders, falling now to his side and she began to feel him physically relax beneath her touch. Just as she had accepted her task to please him, he now accepted his own role in receiving such pleasure as his right and reward and he relaxed back to take her ministrations.

It gave her leave to experiment a little more. She felt braver now and drew right back to concentrate momentarily on the head of his penis, trying to find the most sensitive points, running her tongue over the underside, flicking it over the top, circling it slowly. He stiffened suddenly as she moved her mouth momentarily right from him and she froze in fear that she had gone too far, but he only waited, tense, to see what she would do and she quickly moved back down to him, to prove she had not been trying to disobey. She licked the shaft of him now, running her tongue along his full length, her lips moist and attentive as well, kissing it, worshipping it, focussed entirely on his sex and his pleasure and oblivious now to all else. Her tongue move around the base of his penis and she slowly ran it across his testicles, softly, gently, then taking each in her mouth, sucking just so and was rewarded by his shuddering breath above her as he relaxed now even further into her touch.

Her tongue explored him. His breath caught as she slipped her attentions further down, reaching that spot just below his scrotum and she paused there, because she knew he liked it, firm in her touch, her mouth to his skin. As she began to move her mouth back up again, over the top of his testes and up along the shaft, she brought one hand up to his balls, wet with her saliva, and ran her fingers over them gently, then over that place which had made him shudder, massaging there gently with her fingers as her mouth returned to his dick. Always she was alert to what made him gasp, what made his breath catch and shudder, so she could learn his sensitivities, learn the ways in which to truly pleasure him. It gratified her to feel him react beneath her touch, to know when she pleased him, she wanted truly to do that now, it was all that mattered. So she brought her mouth back over the top of his penis again and she paused there again, her hand caressing his balls, her tongue swirling around the head, and she knew she had to climax him now, to bring him to release. To fulfil the second part of her doubled dare. To swallow.

She welcomed the taste of him, pre-cum licked away by her tongue as she took him in her mouth again and went down as far as she could, as far as possible before she began to gag. It distressed her, however, to find she could not take all of him, that she was not even coming close, but would start to choke whenever she tried, feeling like she could not breathe. He had pushed her down further the very first time, so she knew it had to be possible, and yet as she herself moved down on him she could not force herself anywhere near as far. She tried, desperate, beginning to get anxious not for her own choking breath now, but rather because she could not do it, she could not pleasure him just as he wanted her to. She could not please him the way he most liked and how was she to prove how deeply she worshipped him if she could not do that?

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byLilyMelb© 11 comments/ 128512 views/ 61 favorites

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