The Dare (A Truth Or Dare Story)

[mrivan]

The Dare

I had spent quite a few years as a RL Master, an Online Master and a writer. So, when I discovered the Truth or Dare group online where people would often subject themselves to dares or penalties involving bondage, punishment, humiliation or other activities traditionally reserved for submissives, I found myself among friends who could appreciate what I had to offer.

The people there, like many other similar groups online, spanned a range. Ages ranged from jailbait to geriatric adults, tastes from practically vanilla to the most perverse kink imaginable, and even their orientations covered all the bases--hetero, homo and bisexual, Dominant and submissive, with favorite activities across the entire field of possibilities.

Once I had posted the url for my website and offered people a few dares, I began to get the periodic questions. There were questions about areas of the scene with which I was familiar, as well as those looking for dares for specific people and/or situations.

Another pattern developed, though, which I found annoying. Many times I would spend an hour at the keyboard writing out a dare or an answer to a question, and see nothing in response. I began to get wise to the fact that not everyone in the group was being strictly honest, and a few just wanted some entertainment in spite of claims to the contrary.

One girl, in particular, whom I will simply call “Diane” here (not her real name), seemed to know well what my own tastes were. She posted a couple questions which took a lot of time to answer, then did not write one word in acknowledgement. At least a couple times, she asked for dares, sometimes around specific situations such as bets with a small group, and wanted heavy penalties for the losers. Again, I expected the results and experiences to be posted, but got nothing.

I began to get ideas, things that could be done to respond properly to someone who did not respect a Master. The opportunity came sooner than I expected, when I first discovered that Diane lived in my area, then she requested a Dare that could be done in a public place by the loser of a wager on a sporting event. Most interestingly, she told me the team she would be supporting, and I had read the prognostications of the experts. That team was gonna go down hard, so I knew she was gonna lose that bet. There were six people in the group, 3 of each gender, four of them to observe the results and take part in the payoffs.

Ah, vengeance would be sweet!

I arranged for the entire group that would be participating to individually email me. The four observers would get assignments to carry out on the loser, and the two people making the wager would get additional instructions. They were to each include a pic of themselves in the email so I could adapt their assignments to their body type and appearance. And I also included for all but her to get a brief note on my real intentions.

They would go to a sports bar located near the beach. Once the scoring in the game began, whoever was backing the losers would have to have some part of their clothing removed or reduced to increase their exposure, and additionally, their hands would be locked behind their backs with handcuffs until their team regained the lead.

Following the game, the group would move to a nearby private beach area where the penalties would be paid, including some rope work, exposure, a spanking or whipping and some sexual servitude and humiliation.

Why go to all this trouble? Sure, it would not be hard to see Diane copping out again and finding some excuse to not participate. But this time, she was committed to people who placed far more importance on one’s word, and they would insure her participation.

Oh, and one more thing. I would be at the bar, and later at the beach, to observe and perhaps direct some of the activities.

* * *

They arrived at the bar an hour before game time. I noted with some amusement that Diane seemed to be peeved at two of the gentlemen accompanying her, as if they practically had to drag her out of the house in spite of her commitment. I could see it all now--the excuses about having to visit some family member and she wasn’t really feeling good tonight, and she wouldn’t be available to play out the dare... Now, she was in for keeps. She seemed a bit nervous about her attire as well--a micro-skirt, high heeled sandals, a truly revealing top with a few buttons straining to hold it closed over her generous breasts, and clearly no bra. It would have surprised me if she was wearing panties.

I recognized her opposite number, a guy calling himself “FairDare” online, and I never got his real name. I knew he would be ready to either pay up or make sure she paid if she was hesitant. And I noted him making sure she didn’t drink too much.

The game went for over forty-five minutes before the predictable team scored. Diane blustered and complained, but FairDare managed to wrestle her wrists into the handcuffs, and I could already see that the sweat she had worked up would begin making that top deliciously transparent soon. The cuffs locked on, he then plucked off the top button of her tiny top and a sizable portion of her breast-meat began poking over the top of it.

Now red-faced, she endured the overt leers of the five others at the table--three men and two other women. FairDare did console her with a couple of beers as the rest of the game progressed, but her fate was already sealed. The wrong team scored again minutes later, and the bottom button of her top was sent to the floor. A few more minutes and her skirt was rolled up several inches, soon confirming my suspicions about her being pantiless. Finally, with barely a minute left in the game, the same team scored again.

Diane whined about having nothing left to pay off with, her clothing already reduced to a very bare minimum. FairDare smiled and told her, “Not to worry. The rules don’t say you necessarily have to remove anything. And I have just the thing...” That said, he took her beer and emptied it over her face and soaked her top.

She screamed, then cried, realizing her nipples and aureoles were stiff and showing up thru the now transparent material to people clear across the room. There were cheers and laughter, and she struggled futilely against the handcuffs locked behind her back. FairDare led the way now to the door, the other two men now holding her arms, the group looking like they were forcefully escorting a condemned prisoner to her fate--which, in fact, they were.

I noticed one of the women present snapping a picture with a digital camera. I hadn’t seen the camera before because of where she had been sitting, but relished the idea of the pictures she would have before the night ended.

I picked up a canvas bag from the trunk of my car as I followed them to the beach.

Enroute, I introduced myself to a couple of the people bringing up the rear, and word passed between them that I had arrived. Diane would find out about my presence soon enough. I let them know where the place was on the beach where we could party without being disturbed. We arrived a few minutes later.

A circle formed at beachside, hidden by a few dunes and trees, with Diane at the center. FairDare then told her, “Diane, may I introduce you to Master Ivan...”

Her eyes widened, and she practically sneered at me, as if she was catching the drift a little bit at a time. I simply said, “Never were a good loser, were you? Now, perhaps, you understand why we have all gathered here this fine evening.”

In the art of Domination, there are two routes you can take. You can ease your prospective slave into submission a bit at a time, always giving her time to adjust to each new imposition of authority. Or, alternatively, you can break her by starting at the most intense levels of use and humiliation and have her earn her way back up to an acceptable level. We would be using the latter. I spoke with that in mind...

“It would seem this slut does not believe in paying off her debts. Worse, she seems to have no respect for the people who have beaten her in wagers. It might be a good idea to demonstrate to her that a lack of respect earns the same in return...”

She was forced to her knees. The four men then revealed their cocks, and began to piss on her. Her face was the first target of course, as well as her hair and her brief clothes. In seconds, she was soaked completely, and she was coughing with the piss that she had caught in her mouth, some of which she was forced to swallow.

We simply stood around her for a moment, then I pointed out, “The ladies must be feeling left out at this time. Diane, lay down on your back.”

She struggled against her handcuffs for a moment, an angry sneer across her wet face, then she noted that no one was paying attention to that. There would be no mercy. She laid down on her back and sobbed a bit, knowing what was coming.

The two women, one at a time, stood astride her face and began to piss themselves. I ordered Diane, “Open your mouth!” She obeyed, and both the women used her mouth as a target for a good portion of their piss, before moving down her body.

Again, we allowed ourselves to enjoy her as she laid there, the odor of piss strong now, puddles of it in the sand where she laid. Finally, FairDare brought her to her feet and removed her clothes. In the meantime, I opened my bag and got out my favorite quirt. Now naked, she was made to kneel.

FairDare spoke... “Diane, you recall under the conditions of our wager, you now have to suck me to orgasm. Beg me nicely, and perhaps the whip will be kind to you.” She was about to rebel again, but when she heard the word “Whip”, she turned and saw me holding the quirt. Now, the humiliation she suffered began to fade, replaced by a real fear of the pain that would be likely to follow. She stumbled into it, but fulfilled the requirements.

“P-please FairDare, I have lost the bet and must now pay the price. Please, let me suck your cock?”

“Yes, slut,” he answered, “but since you have proved reluctant, I think a bit of motivation is in order. Master Ivan?”

I smiled, “I think I have just the thing.” I revealed a pair of chrome plated cloverleaf clamps, and seconds later, to the tune of a pair of beautifully arousing cries, I had attached them to her nipples. As she knelt there whining about the clamps, I gave her her first brief lick on the ass with my quirt. “I think its time you got to work...”

She screamed, then quickly opened her mouth and began sucking FairDare’s cock. She seemed to be doing a passable job, yet I still noticed some reluctance, some hesitation to take him into her throat, perhaps a lack of pressure from her lips. I commented, “A slave who delays the pleasure of her Master often finds herself punished.” I then added two ounces of weight to each of her clamps.

She moaned deeply around the cock fucking her mouth, then I saw her tighten her lips. I could see her tongue was now working, and soon she was taking him into her throat. Nevertheless, I still gave her a few more licks of the quirt, just to keep her on target. A few more minutes, and she had him on the brink of orgasm. He pulled out of her mouth briefly so he could shoot some cum on her face, then returned to her mouth so she could swallow the rest of his load and finally clean him with her mouth.

She then looked up at him hopefully, asking, “Ok, I did it...can I go now?”

FairDare smiled, then asked, “Would it be fair to have all these people here to observe and help keep things in order, and not share any pleasure with them?”

One of the two other women stepped forward and agreed, “You’re absolutely right. That wouldn’t be fair at all. And to add to that, I just had to piss, and there’s no toilet paper on this beach. I’m really hot, and my cunt feels just so...so dirty!”

FairDare and I looked down at Diane, who shed another tear, seeing what was being demanded of her. She hesitated only long enough to steal a glance at my quirt, then turned a deeper shade of red, and asked the girl, “Please use my mouth...I can clean you and give you an orgasm.” She then lowered her eyes in humiliation.

The girl stepped forward and raised her skirt. Diane had to tilt her head back to suck her, and she grimaced in pain as she felt the skin of her breasts tighten as she did so, increasing the pain of the clamps. She shuddered as she extended her tongue and began cleaning the girl’s cunt. I gave her ass cheeks another lick of the quirt as she licked the girl in turn, and I enjoyed the little dance the weights did hanging from her clamped nipples as she reacted to the stroke. I added a stroke every minute or two to keep her tongue from tiring. Eventually, the girl was brought to a memorable orgasm, after which Diane again cleaned her with lips and tongue.

A second guy, the other woman and finally the last man used her mouth in the same way. It took nearly an hour and a half, but she eventually sucked off everyone there, including myself at the end of the line. I added weights to her nipple clamps more than once, until she bore over six ounces on each nipple. Only when she swallowed my load and cleaned me did the clamps come off, with a pair of glorious screams.

We then changed her bonds, spread-eagling her on the sand with her head towards the water. We spent the entire night there, drinking from a keg of beer thoughtfully provided by the men and consuming food brought by us all, all the time looking at her widely opened cunt displayed for our enjoyment. When Diane begged for a drink, one of the six of us would piss in her mouth. And when she wished for food, one of the men would offer her his own prized meat to suck on. The two other girls used her tirelessly, sitting on her face whenever they wished. All in all, Diane provided us each with about three orgasms before the night was over. She was not allowed to take any pleasure herself.

As the night approached its close, the girl with the camera thoughtfully showed the digital pictures she had taken of Diane’s use, humiliation and punishment. Diane herself was allowed to see them, as well as taking note of the high degree to which she could be recognized in all the pictures. I dropped the hint right after we finally freed her hands from the stakes and re-locked them behind her back with the handcuffs.

“Perhaps there is a way for Diane to really make up for her generally snotty attitude towards us all. With summer vacation well underway, she doesn’t really have to be anywhere until college resumes in the fall.”

Diane’s eyes lowered again, as she hesitated, thinking, seeing that she was indeed deserving of punishment. She finally crawled to kneel before FairDare.

“Please Sir, did you wish to continue using me for a time?”

He smiled. “Yes, she does seem to have learned something here. And I could certainly enjoy having a naked slavegirl around to clean my house and serve my pleasure. And she would be invaluable when my drinking buddies come over for a few beers. She could pour, and suck us all when not otherwise occupied.”

At that last, she shuddered visibly, yet I noticed her nipples suddenly hardening, and a drop of her juice flowed out of her cunt.

“But there may be one problem,” I noted. “Look at her cunt. It is as wet as a sponge. She is a genuine slut, getting off on all of this. If we don’t keep her restrained, she’d likely begin playing with herself like a slut whenever we turned our backs. I think I have a perfect solution...”

I brought out a chastity belt. It was stainless steel, with a mesh to cover her cunt that would keep her exposed but not allow any touch whatsoever. I locked it on her in seconds.

FairDare smiled broadly. “Perfect. I couldn’t think of a better motivator for her. If she wants a pleasure, she’ll have to serve us all well.”

“Yes,” I continued. “And when she has spent, say, a week with each of you, and then a week with me at the end, serving us as a good slavegirl, we can have a ‘coming out’ party where we can allow her to dress and remove the belt.”

We continued partying until the sun lit the beach again. Diane was allowed to “dress” in her piss-soaked clothes, and as a final humiliation, was required to walk to FairDare’s house in that condition, a distance of several miles.

She was stripped on arrival and her pissy clothes locked away. She served him a full week, as a housemaid and suckslave, entertaining at parties and sucking his friends as well, including a fair number of people she knew herself. She was then passed to the first of the women, and on thru the entire list, each time made to re-dress in the same clothes, still reeking of piss, and walk to each home, my own at the end.

By the time she came into my hands again, I noted a difference. She still felt the humiliation from the obscene clothing she was made to wear for the trip, as well as the piss odors they contained. And she also felt the humiliation from the numerous men and women she was required to suck off thruout her ordeal. Yet, now, when she was undergoing public use, her arousal became blatant and powerful. When my whips welted her, she was more likely to moan with pleasure than to cry out in pain. When she was presented with a cock to suck, her intense slave-conditioning triggered her arousal. Her cunt ended up wetter than her face when these marathon suck sessions concluded. When she was chained naked and handcuffed on the floor at the foot of my bed, she smiled and slept soundly. And when I brought her to her knees every morning to suck me off and drink my first piss load of the day, she smiled and offered a heartfelt “Thank you Master” each and every time. The slavegirl within her was coming to the surface.

We had the final party as planned. Casually, I asked her beforehand if she’d mind if we invited anyone else aside from the main circle to that party. She smiled, telling me, “Whoever you wish, Master. That is totally up to you, Master.” I could see it in her face that she wanted more people in attendance. Beyond the six people already coming, we eventually added another dozen and a half, bringing up the grand total at the party to twenty-five.

She served us all well, her mouth in nearly constant use, her wrists locked behind her back for the duration. She never was needed for serving drinks, and she provided the sole source of sexual pleasure for all present all night.

Morning found us with the original circle of friends seated around the living room, and Diane kneeling naked and handcuffed in the middle of the floor.

I spoke to her. “Well Diane, it would seem you have finished paying off your debt. You may now be freed and sent on your way, if that is what you would like.”

She knelt there thinking, still locked in the chastity belt as she had been for six weeks non-stop. I could see a trail of juice leaking out from the side of the belt.

“Master, what if I decided that I wasn’t sure if I wanted to be released?”

I smiled, in spite of one or two of the other faces in the room that looked at her with shock. “It is said that sometimes a slavegirl cannot find herself until she has been enslaved for a period of time. And that sometimes she enters slavery against her will, but after a time passes, she remains most willingly, never wishing to be freed.”

She simply looked back at me and said, “You may be right on that, Master.”

She then crawled to my feet, pressed her lips to my toes, then begged, “Please Master, you have taught me much. All of you have. May I show you my appreciation?”

I smiled back at her and unzipped my jeans. She gratefully took me into her mouth and kept me there until she swallowed my load. Wordlessly, she then crawled to the next person in the circle and performed the same service for each until she had sucked off all six of us again. She then returned to the center of the circle, lowered her eyes, and awaited our pleasure.

“I see no reason why we have to end the rotation. It would seem that Diane would be sorely disappointed if we were to stop now. Why not continue, allowing her to spend a week with each of us. We could help her by going to her place and concluding her lease and picking up her possessions...”

A day later, 98% of her clothes had been burned, nearly all of her other possessions had been either trashed or given to charities. When she was dressed for her walk to FairDare, she wore the same outfit she had at each transition, but this time, we freshened the piss scent for her in the bathtub, everyone participating again. Over the months to come, that outfit was the only clothing she ever wore, and she wore that only for the walk to her next owner.

She was eventually permitted to come only once in each full cycle of owners, at my place, with everyone present and watching. She continued serving with complete submission, never refusing any order or command no matter how degrading.

And she was also allowed to continue her participation in the Truth or Dare group. I don’t think she ever again refused a Dare.

Master Ivan

2/5/04

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