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Swedish War

Category: BDMS
07.07.2024
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“Damn it all, why cancel tonight of all nights?” She slammed the phone back on its cradle. “Friday night, new shoes, shaved my legs and everything, and the bastard cancels last minute. Men!” Amy had been looking forward to going out, to alleviate the monotony, get away from the rut she had been in for so long. All of a sudden it was another Friday night just so many others…

“Well no need to keep these on…” she kicked off her shoes and started undoing the zipper on her dress. As she had the fabric halfway over her head, the phone rang again. She tossed off the dress and went back to answer it.

“Amy, it’s Jim. Are you busy tonight?”

“Not anymore. Why?”

“I just found a card game that you might like. Its called Swedish War. I need someone to play against to figure it all out.”

“Cool. Give me a minute to get dressed and I’ll be right over.”

“Wear something sexy for me?” The slight hint of flirting was obvious in his voice.

“Curlers in my hair, flannel robe, and fuzzy slippers sexy enough for you?”

“Ooh baby, you’re getting me all hot” he laughed.

She put on her breathy seductive voice “Just wait until you see my mud mask.”

More laughter from her friend. “Ok, see you in a few then, you vixen.”

Back in her bedroom, Amy debated what to wear. Tim was a nice guy; they had gone to college and were in a few classes together. After a few dinners here and there ended up with nothing serious or romantic. They had played Truth or Dare once at a sorority party, and she had planted a monster kiss on him. He sort of had the “deer in headlights” look when she pulled away, so she thought he had no interest in her. It might not be a romantic evening, but she was still in the mood to have fun. She left her black silk bra and panty set on, but slid into jeans and black T-shirt. “What the hell” she thought to herself and grabbed her boots with 2 inch heels and leather jacket. Maybe not her sexiest look, but the jeans were tight enough to turn heads and the boots gave her that extra sway in her hips.

After graduation, Tim had bought an old house just outside the city. Not more than ten minutes drive, but it was quieter and peaceful out there. He often talked about sitting in his hot tub and looking up at the stars for hours on end. “Damn, I should have brought a suit. Or maybe I can just talk Tim into going without one.” She smiled at the thought of his reaction; it might be fun to actually try it, just to see how he would react.

The lights were on as she pulled into his driveway, so she walked right to the front door and walked in without knocking. “Hey Tim, I’m here.”

Shouting from the kitchen, Tim called “come on back here, I’ve been going over the rules for the game.”

The kitchen had a few sheets of paper laid out and cards for two people to play. Tim was just gathering them together into a single deck again as she sat down. Hanging the jacket on the back of the chair, she asked “Ok, so what’s the game and do we play?”

“The game is Swedish war, and we play like this. The deck is divided evenly between us. From each half we sort through the cards to build the best deck for War, just like the game we played as kids…”

“We each put down one, and high card wins?”

“Exactly. But before that, you get to stack the deck, in a matter of speaking.”

She tilted her head to one side and gave him a curious look. “Ok. Explain that one.”

The cards were dealt out, half a deck each. Tim then drew the first card from his stack. “You take the first card. You like it, you keep it, but then you have to discard the second. If you don’t like it, discard, but then you have to take the second.”

“So for every two cards, I’m keeping one of them.”

“Yep, so those middle cards could put either low cards in your hand or throw high cards into your discard pile… makes the game interesting don’t you think?”

“Slightly confusing, but interesting.”

Tim had been going through is cards as he was explaining, and soon had his final deck. “From your half, you should be down to thirteen cards. That’s the deck you play with.”

Amy went through her half and soon had a deck ready. “And then we just lay down one at a time? Doesn’t sound that complex.” She straightened her deck into the neat pile.

“Well it’s the last rule that makes it fun. Whoever has won the most when we play all thirteen gets to tell the loser what to do. The loser has to do it. Regardless.”

Amy’s attention perked up suddenly. “You mean like truth or dare, but without the truth?”

“Unless the winner asks for the truth.” Tim answered. “If you can’t handle that rule, don’t play the game.”

Setting her deck down in front of her, Amy grinned at Tim. “Well, I’ve got nothing better to do tonight. Let’s see what happens for a few hands.” She slid one card forward.

Tim took his card and flipped it over. “Here goes…”

When all thirteen tricks had been played, Tim had eight to Amy’s five. “Ok, since you teased me with the flannel robe, and show up in man-killer jeans instead… You have to sing “I’m a little teapot” in your underwear. Just your underwear.”

This was the first time Tim had expressed any kind of interest in her, other than their harmless flirting. “Just my underwear, huh? What if I’m not wearing any?”

“Then I get more than I bargained for.” His smile was wicked and mischievous. He leaned forward to lean his chin in his hands and watched for her to begin.

“Sorry darlin’ not this time.” She stood and moves away from the table to shed her shirt and jeans.

Tim was visibly impressed by her choice of “unmentionables”. She cleared her throat and began to sing. “I’m a little teapot, short and stout. Here is my handle, here is my spout.” She even did the motions as she sang. At the last line, she just sat back at the table, leaving the clothes where they lay.

“Aren’t you going to get dressed again?” Tim was staring at her amazed at her ease with lack of clothing.

“Nah.” Gathering up the deck she started to shuffle and deal the next hand. “I figure this might distract you enough for me to have my revenge next hand…” she winked as she dealt.

The distraction worked, Amy won nine to four. Tim was slightly blushing, waiting for her command. Amy copied his chin in hand posture and just grinned at him. “Now this can be anything I want… Anything?”

“Yep. Anything, I’m afraid.”

“Fine, then we play the next round in your hot tub.”

“You brought a suit?”

“Nope.” Her grinned widened.

“Your going in with you’re silks?”

“Nope…” Wider smile.

“Oh… OH!” Tim’s eyes were a mixture of surprise and delight. He was taken aback, but he was glad to be taken there. “Good thing I cleaned it this afternoon…”

He pulled his own shirt off, and Amy took the moment to admire his abdomen and arms. Bending over to drop his trousers, Amy peeked around at his ass. “Good god, you could bounces quarters off that.” She thought to herself.

They both stood looking at each other for a second. Tim broke the silence “So do we leave our skivvies here or take them to the tub with us?”

It took her only a second to wiggle out and step away from both garments. “I don’t want them getting wet.” She started toward the back door and the hot tub beyond. Whether to enjoy the view of her walking away, or because he was slightly stunned, Tim straggled behind and hurried to catch up.

Amy was just sinking into the warm waters when Tim was there with towels and the cards. Setting them on the edge, he sat opposite Amy, watching the bubbles play across the skin as she sat. “Well, we don’t have a table, so we may just have to hold up cards and hand them across…”

“You mean I may have to lean forward, and sit up a little? But that would expose my…chest.” She teased in mock naivete, crossing her arms to hide her.

“Oh we can’t have that…or at least we can’t have that unless you lose.”

“So you like my boobs?” she asked him, raising slightly out of the water, yet keeping the nipples below the surface.

“Oh yes, very impressive. Matches your ass. And then with your legs…well, all around, quite impressive.

“So should I lose again, I can expect more prancing around? Showing off my assets?” She was teasing again.

“Actually…” He started. She could see the thought running through Tim’s head and wondered what he was thinking. “What do you have planned for tomorrow, Amy?”

“Well, there was sleeping in late, then turning over and sleeping later, getting up taking a nap and then eventually going to bed. If I was feeling ambitious possibly getting dressed.” Then a slight suspicion crossed her face. “Why, what are you suggesting?”

“One hand for the ultimate ‘do anything’… twenty four hours of complete servitude.”

“Twenty four hours? From when to when?”

“As soon as we finish the hand, then the next hour starts it.” Tim glanced at his watch. “Which if we hurry, will be 10:00.”

“Sounds good. Although I hope you can last a full 24 hours.” Her mock naivete melted into full fledge mischief as she went through her deck. They both finished at the same time and looked at each other to begin.

They got to the thirteenth trick, each winning six. The single turn of a card would decide. Tim looked at Amy. “Are you sure you want to do this? This is the last chance to back down.”

“I’m fine with it. I rather like the idea of having a slave boy for the day. Cleaning the floors, cooking my meals…mmmmmmm”

Cocking his head to the side Tim looked at her for a moment. “Alright. If you’re sure…” he turned the card around to reveal the king of hearts.

“DAMN IT!!” Amy threw her card at him. “How did you pull that out? Did you cheat?”

“Sorry, Amy, but that was my honest last card. So. You’ve got five minutes of freedom. Any last requests?”

“Yeah, just let me soak in peace until then. Hot tubs under the stars are the height of modern living for me.”

Tim made a mental note “I’ll have to remember that.” He muttered.

The next five minutes past in relative silence, the churning of the bubbles, and the chirp of crickets the only sound…until Tim’s alarm went off. “Ok. Time’s up. Out of the tub.”

Amy stood and climbed out of the tub. “Wait, stand right there” Tom ordered. Amy stopped and turned to face him. She put her hands on her hips and began tapping her foot. “Uhn uh… that’s not proper slave posture.” He chided. “Hands at your side, chin up, chest out, eyes forward…”

She snapped into the position, yet held the defiance in her eyes. “Very good. Now just wait.” He sat back into the tub and stared at her. The night was slightly cool, and a light breeze blew across her wet skin. As a smile began to stretch across his face, she realized that her nipples were hardening and pointing skyward. He just sat there, continued watching her react, and in the stillness of the moment, realizing that he was enjoying her without her control, she was enraged and aroused, both fires kindled within her.

The drops were rolling slowly down her form, when Tim broke the silence. “Now that you’re at attention…go inside and fetch my clothes. You will dry me off an dress me when you return.” Amy turned and left. She quickly gathered the clothes from where he had discarded them and quickly folded them into tidy squares before returning to stand rigid before him again.

“Your clothes… Sir”

“Well done, now a towel and to drying. And be careful not to take liberties with your hands, you are to dry me off, not feel me up.” He stood up out of the water and stood before her with his arms extended. Trying to keep a flat demeanor, Amy could tell he was enjoying her efforts. Soon he was dry enough to be dressed. He lifted each foot only high enough for her to stoop and barely slide it past his ankles. Though it took a minute or two she touched him only as necessary and tried not to linger on his more sensitive spots.

“Well, you’ve proved suitable for a valet. But you might be better suited to being a kitchen slave. Let’s go inside and you can fix me a drink and a snack.” He merely walked away from her, but stood at the closed door. Amy was slightly shocked to see this side of the usually laid back and jovial Tim. Either he was a closet Dominant or had been planning this for weeks, she suddenly realized that he was waiting for her to open the door for him. With quick steps she reached the door and opened it wide as he passed through. Glaring at the back of his head as he passed, she followed him into the house but switched to the submissive expression as he turned around.

“There is beer in the fridge, and glasses frosting in the freezer. Make me a sandwich, ham and cheese, brown mustard and lettuce on an onion roll. Bring them to me in the living room. I’ll be watching t.v.” and he waved her into the kitchen. Amy watched him walk away, then set to the tasks. Making the sandwich first, then opening the freezer. The blast of frozen air struck her full in the chest, again tensing her nipples. “Damn it…next time we play, I am going to make him pay for this…” She imagined him in nipple clamps and other toys. The wicked grin lingered for a minute then she fetched the beer and poured it into the chilled glass.

Tim was sitting on the floor, watching the television as she came in. “Ok, good, bring it here, and I’ll need a tray to set it on.”

“Where are your trays, sir?” Beer in one hand, plate in the other, she was again in her slave posture.

“I don’t have any. You will have to do it yourself.” Not taking his gaze from the set.

“You mean you want me to…” There was a slight sputter and hesitation as she spoke.

“Yep, right here, on all fours. Hurry, I haven’t had to discipline you yet, I’d hate to have to start.”

Amy allowed herself one growl under her breath before walking to stand by is side. She knew better than to step in front of the television, then knelt down to hand him the glass and plate. As he took them, she bent forward and straightened her back to accept the dinner. The plate balanced easily enough, but she had to concentrate to not squirm under the chill of the frosted pilsner glass. Her ass was well exposed and her breast hung freely below her. Tim leaned over to peek under her ribs and then lowered the glass down below. “The head is a little too frothy. I need to drop it a bit.” And as he spoke he lifted the rim of the cup around her breast, letting the already chilled flesh dip into the foam and cause it rescind.

“BE a shame to let beer go to waste like that” wiping the drops from her with his free hand. The brush was slow and deliberate, taking the time to let his finger appreciate their form. “Would you like a taste?”

His hand was before her face, mere inches away. The smell of the beer tickled her nose. “Thank you sir.” She licked the droplets, and the saltiness of his palm. So close to her face, she saw the firm strength in his hands. She imagined them gently caressing her, the fingers trailing in small wakes behind them. Damn him, he was getting to her. Whether the adventure of the dare or the fantasy of the submission, or her own suppressed desire for him, she was beginning to enjoy the evening…and yet the constant treatment of subjection and servitude pissed her off just as deeply. “When are we going to get around to sex?” she thought to her self “Isn’t that the ultimate goal of betting someone to be a slave?”

He replaced the cold glass on her hindquarter and set about to finish his sandwich. Every few bites, he would wipe his hand on the backside of her thigh as if it was a napkin, the touch was electric, but the gesture was so distant. Finally finishing his beer, he gave her a small swat on the ass cheek. “I’m done. Once you’ve cleared these and finished the dishes, we’ll see what we can find for you to do next.”

“Thank you sir. I’ll return shortly.” She gathered the dinnerware and hurried back to the kitchen. She quickly washed the dishes, thankful for the warmth of the water coming from the sink. Wiping her hands and turning around she saw Tim standing there, waiting for her.

“Now then…after deciding that you are at least good for dressing, cooking, cleaning, and since its too dark to determine if you can garden or drive, the only position left to test is if you are suited as a pleasure slave. That should take us through the night and give me an idea of agenda for tomorrow.” His tone was even and flat, as if interviewing her for a job. She wondered why he was so reserved, so distant. Was this just a game to him and nothing more? But this “pleasure slave” idea…surely he must want something. Tim wasn’t the type to take this so lightly.

Then she caught his eyes. He was staring at her, engulfing her in his sight. His gaze had wandered down to her smoothly shaved mound, to the glistening silky legs. She felt the folds within her begin to moisten in her arousal, and she was starting to breathe more heavily. He was taking a measure of her, burning her image into his mind. He looked her breast; the nipples still erect from the cold and now mixed with her rising emotions. They eyes locked as he looked at her face once again. He was not distant and cold, he was preparing her, bringing her to this point of absolute surrender.

“As my slave, I would just order you to the basement. As my friend I think I should warn you… I’ve…” He was blushing slightly and lowered his gaze just once. “I’ve…” he hesitated again.

“Sir. I know I should not interrupt, but my evaluation is waiting. We should continue quickly” that was all she needed to say to let him know that she understood, that she shared the fantasy with him, that there was no need for embarrassment or fear.

He extended a hand to her, holding a black leather spiked collar on the end of a chain. “Put this on.” The order came more assuredly. He was her master once again.

Taking it from his hand, she fastened it around her neck, and then moved back into the slave posture, this time with less defiance, lifting her chest higher and prouder now. She followed as he led her to the basement door and down the steps.

The room was astounding. Along two walls were racks upon racks of whips, floggers, straps, and some items Amy had never seen. At the far wall from the stairs were two large frames, trimmed in cables, chains, and other methods of attachment. Track lighting nearly covered the ceiling. As they descended and stood fully in the basement, Amy noticed the control boxes under the stairs. She audibly gasped at the setup.

Leading her to the very center of the room, Tim took a small remote control from his back pocket. With the silent push of a button, four spotlights Illuminated a bright circle around her. She had to squint against the brilliance, but did not dare raise her hand to shield her eyes. “This is merely your evaluation. Perform well here, and then tomorrow you will serve for pleasure. If not…” he let the alternative hang unspoken. “The only goal for your evaluation is to give and enjoy pleasure. Let your soul be set free and give yourself to the pleasure. Are you ready to being?”

She nodded, and straightened again to the slave posture.

The lights dimmed and Tim approached with a blindfold. Amy held still as he fastened it around her eyes, preventing any light at all from reaching them. He had let the leash fall, and was guiding her by the hand toward what she assumed was one of the frames. He lifted one arm out in front of her, and she could feel him securing a cuff around her wrist. He pulled the buckle snuggly and then lifted it above her head and she heard the clip snap. He repeated the action for the other arm. And then secured each ankle in like manner. Amy could feel the air heating, so she assumed that the lights were once again bright on her. There were footsteps, Tim walking around, nearer…farther away…he wasn’t talking and she was beginning to be afraid of what he was doing. There was an unusual scent in the air, she recognized jasmine, but there was more…soon she felt Tim’s hand on her shoulders, with handfuls of oil dripping and the scent now stronger.

As if reading her mind Tim said, “This is a combination of clarysage, jasmine and neroli oils. Breathe deeply and relax. It will help soothe your nerves; as well as help you skin pick up sensation more readily. And supposedly, its an aphrodisiac as well…”

His hands were strong and well practiced. Rubbing the oil into her shoulders, spreading it over her back, she wondered how this was slavery… Oh god he was good… He poured more oil into his hands, and she heard him step around and begin applying the oil to her front side too. From shoulders, to the outsides of her chest, then down and around the underside of her breasts, cupping them in his fingers, then sliding past and towards the middle.

Hs hands slid down her chest, smearing the oil into her stomach and over her hips. There was a catch in her breath as he brought his hands around to her pubic mound. The oil soaked fingers slid easily over the smooth skin, with just enough pressure to make her aware of where his hands were. Then down along her legs. The scent was heady, nearly intoxicating. She began taking deep slow breaths, engulfed in the aroma.

Restrained and blindfolded, with she was entranced by the scent of the oil when she was startled by a soft wet touch against her stomach, that quickly disappears. Confused as to its origin, she turns her head in vain, only to feel another wet pop, this one higher, closer to a breast.

In the silence, she could hear the soft pop. Bubbles. He was blowing bubbles. The humor of the scene flitted across her mind until the next bubble hit. No single bubble, but a stream of small quick bubbles, nearly tickling all across her abdomen.

She fought back the giggles, and steadied herself for more. However, rather than across her chest, the next stream flooded lower on her, over her mound and a few floating under and into her open legs. The wet pops, barely there and yet with so many of them at once, the sensation was incredible. A shiver ran from her legs up her spine.

There was another brief moment of nothing and then a large bubble exploding over her left breast. The splash could be felt up to her shoulder. Another one fell on her stomach to be followed by one up on her right breast. Somehow each pop brought the aroma of the oil up to the air again. She began drawing deep breaths, but did so quicker, with urgency.

There was another stream of smaller bubbles low on her hips and crotch again. One actually landed on her labia before popping, which brought her to a new awareness of how wet she was getting. All he had done was rub oil on her and blow bubbles, yet she was definitely aroused. By reflex she moved to lower her hand to touch herself, only to be reminded of its captivity.

She heard a quiet whirring of a small motor then felt the steady stream of small bubbles again, not so low as to reach her slit, save for one or two random floaters, but the majority landing below her navel. It continued for well beyond what she anticipated his lung capacity, and then felt another stream popping against her backside. She flexed her cheeks, and caught a bubble well inside the twin muscles. She heard Tim give a short laugh. Assuming that it was approval, she leaned forward spreading the rear entrance wider. It also exposed her labia to the front stream of bubbles, they must be coming from a bubble machine, the just kept flowing and popping on her skin. Hundreds of thousands of quick, nearly imperceptible kisses on the most sensitive of skin… God, why had no one thought of this before…

“Would you like some relief? Something more than bubbles?” Tim’s voice was just at her ear, in a whisper.

“Please…” the request was half a groan in her throat. “Anything, please just let me…”

“You may earn that relief.” There was a sharp click from the frame above her head. Tim’s hands were on her arms, lowering them. She could feel that the cable was still attached, but allowed to slide up and down in the rack…as he was lowering her arms, he was guiding her into a kneeling position. She couldn’t see, but felt certain she knew what was in front of her face.

The distinct zipper sound confirmed her suspicion. She pursed her lips, licking them eagerly. Bowing her head forward, she felt the soft skin of his head against her lips. She moved her head side to side, just brushing them against his flesh. A flick of the tongue and she knew he was getting harder still.

Amy had done this before, but never blindfolded and shackled. It would be slightly more difficult, not using her hands… but she promised herself that she would use that trick on him tomorrow. Reaching out with her tongue, she took the tip and shaft into her mouth and began her best work she could imagine.

A few trips up and down the length, swirling her tongue as she went. Then she focused on the tip, rolling across and around it in sweeping strokes. Taking deep length into her throat, she goes down to the base, sucking with her cheeks to add a pressure and tightness as she slowly slid back to the top, then slowly down again and back up, this time with teeth barely raking across shaft going back towards the end. She felt him shiver as she did it, and knew she was on the right track. Coming completely off, she kissed gingerly on the very edges, and then nipped at the slit. His erection twitched in response, and she went deep on him again, this time baring her teeth and putting more pressure on the up swing.

He began moaning, and she could feel the tension in his muscles. She clamped her lips tightly halfway down and started sucking again, preparing for his release. The first drop was already on her tongue and she pressed it against his shaft, squeezing it. The eruption quickly followed and she swallowed each wave as they issued forth. His hands fell to her head, holding it gently on each side. HE wound his fingers in her hair and massaged her scalp, waiting for his last tremors of ejaculation to wash away.

Amy gave him one last lick as he withdrew from her. “Very good girl. You have earned your relief. Do you prefer dildo or vibrator?”

“I was hoping that you would…”

“That I would fuck you? No, not until you pass one last test. You are well suited to a pleasure slave, and tomorrow should prove interesting, but fucking… That takes more…”

“Then a vibrator please.” The disappointment in her voice was evident, but she remained the dutiful slave.

Tim removed the blindfold and helped her to stand once again. He then turned and wheeled over a small cart, positioning it under her, and immediately between her legs. Tim then brought a large black vibrator and fastened it to the rig on top. The string that came out the bottom, he unwound for a few feet. Taking another length of string off of the cart. He produced the key to her restraints. Tying it to the string, he looped it through the frame and brought it down to tie it off. The string from the vibrator rig was tied to the loose end.

Toa earn a good romp in the valley, you have to free yourself. The slack is about 4 inches. If you can squat down and lift that vibrator, it undoes the knot and the key drops down. You can then get yourself off, free yourself from the frame and even come upstairs to sleep in a warm bed. If not…well, then you just need to work on those Keel exercises, don’t you?” He leaned forward to kiss her forehead, and as he did he ran his forefinger across the top of her breast. “Hope to see you soon.” He turned the vibrator on and walked away, ascending the stairs.

She was enraged, embarrassed and easing herself onto the vibrator. Having her legs shackled apart helped, and she felt the early edges of her own orgasm, just from the electric buzz between her folds. She clenched against it, hoping for some grip. Her thighs ached as she flexed and pulled it upward for about an inch. Her own juice made it harder to hold on. She slid further down the toy, hoping to find a wider part; she tightened her pelvis again, and concentrated, holding it with all her strength. The tighter grip on the plastic made the vibrations seem ten times stronger, she was closer now, and wanted to be free to enjoy her orgasm. Another try got closer. She could see the knot was almost released. One more inch…

She took the full length of the vibe into her, feeling it reach deep within her, quivering and shaking all the while. Three deep breaths and she tried to hold off her climax, for one last second. From shoulders to slit, she tightened, hoping all the other muscles would help hold as well. Pushing up with her legs, she made the last effort count.

The key dropped and nearly hit her head. She reached for it and easily undid her cuffs and restraints. Grabbing the vibrator she then leaned against the wall to finish her hard-earned orgasm. Figuring the dungeon to be sound proof, she let go of al her inhibitions, releasing her rage, her passion her frustration all in a series of groans, screams, and yells. She finally slumped on the floor panting and gasping.

“And this has to keep up until 10:00 tomorrow?” she let her voice ring out, speaking to no one. Climbing the stairs, she stopped by the bathroom to wipe the sweat and bubble solution off. She found Tim’s bedroom easily enough and in the darkness, slid in next to him.

“Finally made your escape, eh?” He whispered as he rolled over to hold her in his arms.

“Four inches my ass… But yes, I made it.”

“Good. Get some sleep, you’ll need it.”

“What the hell does that mean?” the hoarse whisper slipped out before she could check it.

“You’ve already earned one exercise for the “my ass” comment. Just get some sleep.” He kissed her forehead again, and held her tightly…

“Oh dear…and to think, I was afraid I was going to be bored tonight.” The darkness carried her in to a dream. A dream of tomorrow…

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