The attached work of fiction is intended to be entertainment for adults in locations where it is
legal.  If it is illegal in your location, DO NOT read.  This is a copyrighted work.  Reposting or
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except may be posted as part of a review or posted to free-access, noncommercial archive sites. 

My works can be found at ftp://ftp.asstr.org/pub/Authors/E.Z.Riter or at www.storiesonline.net 

Copyright November 2000 by E. Z. Riter. 

E-mail address: ezriter@hotmail.com      

Please!        Give me your comments!


ELECTION BET

Caitlin sat next to me in bed with the remote control in her hands.  Angrily, she flicked to another
channel.  

"Don't laugh," she snapped.  "This isn't funny.  We don't know who the president-elect is."

"Since when did you become so interested in politics," I said.  

"Bastard," she muttered. 

"It's not the vote that has you worried.  It's the bet."

"Be quiet.  I'm listening to Katie Couric."

"Turn off the TV," I said. 

"No," she replied petulantly. 

I slipped a finger through the ring dangling from the front of the thick leather collar she wore. 
She resisted momentarily before letting me pull her down on the bed.  The TV silenced before
the remote plopped on the carpet by the bed.

"What's wrong, little slave?" I said as I leaned over her.

"Who'd thought that wooden Indian would get that many votes?"

"Half of America, it seems."

"Can't we cancel the bet?" she said hopefully.

"It was your idea.  I tried to talk you out of it."

Her eyes narrowed angrily.  "I'm your damn slave.  You should've prohibited me from doing it. 
This is all your fault."

"Yes, I could've stopped it, but you insisted so strongly, I thought you wanted it."

"Of course not.  Really, Brian, how could you even think that?  That makes me mad."

She tried to sit up, but I held onto the collar.  Her look of anger morphed into uncertainty tinged
with fear.

"I've never cheated on you.  Never.  I haven't even wanted to and this, well, oh, God, it's a
stupid bet, Brian.  Please see if you can cancel it.  Please.  For me."

I slipped my hand over her mountainous breasts, across the narrows of her waist.  Her eyes
popped open as her legs snapped together and she covered her bush with her hands. 

"Open," I said.

"No, baby," she pleaded, but she saw my expression and opened herself for me.

I slipped a finger up her and she gasped.  Her hips tilted as she blushed a bright red.

"You so hot thinking of this you can't control yourself."

"No," she lied. 

"Is my little red headed Bush supporter anxious to lose?"

"That's silly and stupid."

I crawled on top of her.  Her bright green eyes shone up at me as my cock rubbed the outside of
her pussy. Her lip curled into a smile as I eased my cock into her.  I stopped moving when I was
buried to the hilt.   

"Don't do that, baby.  Come on.  Move," she whispered. 

"Not until you tell me the truth.  You wanted to lose, didn't you?"

"Bastard."

"Well?"

In the spilt second before she said "no," I had the answer. 

Caitlin's small boned, short and stacked.  That's crude perhaps, but her large breasts meet the
stereotypical definition of a "stacked" woman.  We'd been together for fourteen months.  What
began as great sex had grown into love.  The love began when we realized we were made for
each other.  Wedding plans were in the works.

She loved being my "slave," although I'm sure our relationship wouldn't meet a rigid definition
of master and slave.  It was more a mild dominant-submissive with accouterments. 

Why she made the bet, I'll never know.  She might not even know why, but she insisted I agree
to it.

It was a simple bet.  If Bush won, Musette, a lovely, black haired, blue eyed, Cajun with a
delightful and womanly body, would be mine for a night.  I could do with her as I pleased.  If
Gore won, Caitlin would serve Musette's master for the night.

I'd never asked Caitlin to have sex with anyone else and she'd never suggested it.  That's why it
shocked me when she made the bet.  I'll admit I liked the idea.  I'd love to feel Musette under me
and I'd like to watch Caitlin with another.   

Musette was more horrified by the bet than any of us.  She protested bitterly, but their
relationship was more master-slave than ours.  Musette would do as her master told her no matter
what it was.  That was part of the appeal with Musette, knowing that she'd hate what I did to her
and that she was being forced into it.

As I fucked my darling Caitlin in the quiet of our bedroom and heard her soft grunts with each
thrust, I knew if we followed through with the bet our relationship would be sailing into
unchartered waters.  

I lay cooling with Caitlin curled in my arms.  I pushed her away to look into her eyes.

"This is too important to be left to a bet, Caitlin.  I need to know how you feel.  Do you want to
be given to Musette's master?"

"I don't want to do anything to hurt you," she said lovingly.

"You won't.  Just tell me the truth."

She kissed me and stroked my face.

"I'll never admit I want it.  I'll never do it without being commanded.  But deep inside me there's
a desire to take our relationship deeper, to be more, more of a slave to you, and . . .  oh, God, a
desire to try it."

"Then you want it?"

"No," her mouth said, but her eyes held another answer. 

"But you'll do it if I command you?"

"Yes . . .  master."

I called them.

"Musette, let me talk to your master," I said.  "Good morning," I said when her master came on
the line.

"Good morning, Brian."

"I want to cancel the bet.  Instead, why don't the four of us spend a weekend together?"

"I was thinking the same thing."

"Good.  Why don't you and Musette come over here Friday about seven?  We can spend some
time in the hot tub, have some wine, and go from there."

"Sounds delightful."

Caitlin was holding her breath when I disconnected. 

"She agreed?" Caitlin whispered.

"Yes."

Caitlin exhaled and fell back on her pillow.  A little smile crooked her mouth.  


The End

Please!  Give me your comments!

E-mail address: ezriter@hotmail.com

My works can be found at ftp://ftp.asstr.org/pub/Authors/E.Z.Riter or www.storiesonline.net  

   



      

  

   

     
   

 







