Cashing Out the Bet

“That was great,” said Mira.

She scrolled through the display as if she were checking the exposure and not Silke’s exposed crotch.

“We already have all the photos for the regular shots. The movements meant that your nipple was visible at times. And sometimes even your spread butt cheeks. Your asshole wasn’t really covered by the string of your thong. Your spread labia were visible at times, too. Good enough for the media regulator. But still exciting for all the viewers.”

Silke was still sure she’d win. She’d get her revenge right here. Eight minutes left. So she tried to renegotiate.

“If I win, I want you to get fucked, too.”

Mira looked at her seriously.

“You want to renegotiate. Okay. But then I get to influence you, too. I won’t touch you directly. We’re sticking with level five.”

Silke didn’t understand what advantage Mira had if she didn’t touch her or adjust anything. She said yes anyway.

“Deal.”

And then it suddenly became as bright as day. Silke almost fell off in shock—and would have lost the bet as a result. A brief moment of panic. “Let’s start with the bonus footage,” Mira said into the cameras. “Now we want to see everything from you, Anna.”

Silke barely managed to catch herself and wondered why she’d called her Anna. Then Mira turned the camera toward the window.

“Anna, wave to our friends on the roof. I posted ten minutes ago that you’re putting on a new show today. This time, the theme is: You don’t need a man to have fun. What’s special today is that you have a speaker on the roof and can hear everything Anna says. Every gasp. Every moan. So, Anna, watch what you say.”

Silke stared at the bright spots on the roof, illuminated by the screens. At least twenty people had come out of the bar around the corner. Damn.

Silke realized what Mira was up to, but there was nothing she could do. She felt such a strong pull between her legs. The worst part was that it made her lose strength in her thighs. Her bare slit was pressed against the edge. Her thighs were trembling.

Mira kept talking and kept humiliating her.

“We’re even running a little bet. If she falls off, I get to install safety ropes. And a saddle horn.” Mira pointed it at the camera. It wasn’t a horn. It was the attachment for a sex machine. A textured surface for the clitoris. Below that, a dildo-shaped shaft. “And just so we don’t get the wrong idea: She agreed to let me use the sex toy on her. She won’t be allowed to hold on. The thing goes straight into her pussy. Part of the bet is that I’m not allowed to adjust the step or touch her. But I’m allowed to give her instructions for the photos.”

And that’s what she did.

“Breasts out. Show them off nice and high.”

The bull wobbled, causing Silke’s breasts to jiggle as well. The nipple cover slipped off. Her nipples were exposed to the light. A muffled sound came from the loudspeaker on the roof—an echo of voices.

“Something’s still missing,” Mira said playfully.

Then she grabbed a can of lube and sprayed it all over Silke’s tits, her ass, and her legs. Cold. Slippery. Immediately. That was the trap. That’s why Mira was so confident. Silke was now sliding on the bull. Her thighs could no longer find a foothold. Her pussy grew more and more aroused, sliding along the edge, spreading open, rubbing, sliding again. Then it happened. She slid all the way down.

Mat. Impact. Gel on her skin.

“That went fast,” said Mira.

While Silke lay on the floor, Mira quickly rearranged everything. She took the bull down. The dildo didn’t look big in her hand. On the bull, it was huge. Then she set up a chain with two clamps. Then she whispered in Silke’s ear:

“Play along. Or I’ll let your name slip, or you’ll lose the mask that protects your holy face.” Silke nodded.

She already knew she was going to come. The audience. The trap. Everything she’d said and done had made it worse. Now she was going to get cum in her pussy today. Then she got up.

Mira filmed as the dildo spread Silke’s labia. Everyone could hear that Silke was about to come. A gasp echoed through the speaker on the roof. Then Mira tied Silke’s arms behind her back. Her ankles into the straps. Mira pulled her even further down by the straps. Her clit lay against the nubbed surface. The dildo was deep inside her. Then she attached the chain to her nipples. They weren’t sharp metal ones, but smooth plastic ones. The tension was enough.