Ask what she wants before agreeing.

"And what exactly do you want?" you ask, intrigued and entertained by her theatrics but also slightly worried that this incredibly hot woman might be a little unhinged.

Cin drops the act for a moment, taking a slow sip of her beer. "If you bail, you owe me..." She taps her lips thoughtfully, then grins. "I want a set of dice for this Dungeon game."

"Hmm," you murmur, feigning disappointment. "I was expecting something more dramatic, like $1,000 or my soul. I have to say, that does kind of kill the immersion," you tease. "Even the old fortune-teller at the carnival charges five bucks to tell my fortune," you add with a smirk.

Cin crosses her arms and leans forward on the table, her cleavage pressing together in a way that makes your heart race. "Do I look like the woman from the carnival?" she asks, her voice flat and serious.

"No, no you don't," you admit, trying hard not to stare.

"Do you know how much I'm charging your great-uncle's estate just to be here?" the seductive lawyer asks. When you shake your head, clueless, Cin leans back, her leather jacket sprawling even more open, letting her bra-covered breasts gently thrust forward. "$1,000 isn't even half my hourly rate."

"Better money than a Dungeon Mistress?" you quip, trying to stay in the game while fighting back the thought of what it would be like to fondle such an amazing set of feminine beauty.

"Though I do like money," Cin admits, "a professional requirement you know, I'm actually more interested in your soul."

"For a set of Dungeons and Dragons dice?" you fight back a laugh. "Damn, my soul isn't worth that much."

"Quite the opposite." Cin's voice drops to a low, sultry tone, making your pulse quicken. "Your soul is everything, and the dice I want aren’t just any dice—they’re these dice." Without breaking eye contact, Cin reaches to her left and, from the pile of D&D paraphernalia you haven't put away yet, she deftly plucks your prized personal dice bag that no one else is allowed to touch. Holding it by the strings, she lets it sway gently before your eyes. "This is the requirement if you fail to complete the ritual," she says, her voice both hypnotic and menacing. "I want this."

Your mind races with objections. Your first set of dice is in that bag—the ones your mother gave you for Christmas in sixth grade. There are also the dreidels that Sandra gave you, which you now use to roll up all your characters. And most precious of all, there’s the pair of percentage dice you won on that road trip to Gen Con with Saul and David, once owned by Gary Gygax himself.

"Why would you want them?" you ask, trying to sound casual as you mask your concern.

"Because spells of domination require items dear to the victim as components," Cin explains with such conviction it is unnerving. "The more precious the item, the more powerful the spell. The stronger the spell, the more likely the soul will fall under the caster's power."

"So, you're into BDSM?" you joke.

"Yes." Cin answers directly, sending a shiver down your spine and one up through your manhood.

"Physically, mentally, and spiritually," she adds, her gaze piercing into yours.

You swallow hard, trying to hide your nervousness as Cin challenges you directly. "So, are you man enough to wager your soul and test the darkness, or not?"