"Alright, you've had enough alcohol now," Dan said. "Tell me your deepest, darkest fantasies."
"There's not enough alcohol in the world to make me do that," Shauna smiled. "And why do you want to know anyway?"
"Because you're always so in control," he said. "Not a word passes your lips that hasn't been rehearsed and edited in your head. You don't do a thing unless you've worked out what all of the possible repercussions are and come up with ways of dealing with them. I figure that somewhere in your psyche, there has to be a bottomless pool of unleashed spontaneity and uncontrolled passion." She roared laughing at that. But when she stopped, she looked at him thoughtfully, her finger running round the rim of her glass.
"Even if you were right," she said. "It's not anything I could ever allow to come to the surface, so it might as well not be there at all."

"What's the worst thing that could happen if you did?" he asked. She thought about it for a little while.
"I'd lose control," she said simply.
"And why is that so bad?" he asked.
"Because I couldn't make sure that everything always turned out right," she said, as if he should have known the answer himself. He shrugged.
"Things don't turn out right all the time anyway," he said. "Look at our politicians."
"Yes, but things in my immediate world turn out right," she said. "I make sure they do." He shook his head.
"You are such a control freak," he said. "I'll bet that if you could just let it go, maybe even for one night, you'd love it."
"I'd hate it," she shook her head. "I know I would." She looked at him, drank some more of her single malt scotch. "But tell me more." He smiled.

"Well, let's make it sexual," he said.
"Surprise, surprise," she responded, making him smile again.
"Let's say you gave yourself over to the control of a strong man."
"But where would I find one of those?" she asked sarcastically.
"Shut up and listen for a minute," he said.
"I will not!" she responded. He sighed. They'd been friends for a long time, and he should have known better.
"This is hopeless."
"No," she said. "Keep going. I'm sorry. I'll listen."

"Alright," he said. "But if you keep interrupting, I'll stop. Now, imagine that you have given yourself over to the control of a man. For whatever reason, you've decided to be submissive for a while, to do anything he wants." She drank some more of her scotch, nodded.
"So, it's night time. You've driven out to where he lives, and you've stopped your car outside, taken all of your clothes off, every stitch, and put on some really high stiletto heels that are hard to walk in. You've shut and locked your car with your clothes inside and thrown the car keys into the bushes."
"Do you know how much it costs to replace the keys for a Mercedes?" she asked. He just looked at her. "Sorry, sorry. Please continue."
"The only thing you've taken out of the car with you is a set of handcuffs, and you've put them on, behind your back. So now, you're standing out in the night air, naked, with your hands pulled behind your back. Your heels are high, your calf muscles are already tight from standing on them, and you're having to thrust your breasts out to balance your weight."

"What season is it?"
"What?"
"What season it is?
"What the hell does that matter?
"Well, if it's winter, I'd be bloody cold standing around like that."
"It's spring, alright? May I continue?"
"Please do."
"Fine. On this warm SPRING night, you're standing there, stark naked except for your stilettos and your handcuffs, and you're walking carefully up his long driveway, hoping that no-one is looking at you like this, hoping that no-one is going to drive up behind you and see your bare bum. Did I mention that it's a full moon, and that when you look down you can see every bit of your nude body?"
"No," Shauna said. "Nice detail though. Keep going."

"You knock on his door," Dan said, warming to the theme.
"How?" she asked. "If my hands are behind my back, what am I doing, head-butting it?"
"You might be kicking it," he says testily. "It's not important. You in some way signify that you are at his door. Perhaps you pick up the door knocker with your teeth. It doesn't matter, alright?"
"Just asking," Shauna said, pouring herself another drink and topping up his glass at the same time.

"The door opens, and he stands there," Dan continues, nodding his approval at the glass-filling. "He's tall, much taller than you, and strong-looking, and he's framed by the doorway, with the light from his house flooding out over you, illuminating your naked body. He's slowly looking you up and down. It's the first time he's seen you nude in the flesh, and you're embarrassed, wishing you could cover yourself." Shauna squeezed her thighs together and nodded.
"He stands back, and lets you in, tells you to go through to the living room. And he follows you, watching your bare butt bounce and swing as you try to walk in the high stilettos."
"Are there any steps?" she asked, trying to get that image out of her head.
"Yes, there are two steps down to the sunken living room. And your breasts jiggle about as you walk down them."
"But he's behind me," Shauna points out.
"Doesn't matter. You're aware of the jiggling, and it makes you feel more self-conscious," he says. "More helpless." She nods, squeezes her thighs even tighter and wonders why she feels the need to.

"He tells you to kneel on the carpet," Dan says.
"What colour is the carpet?" she asked. He raises his eyebrows at her in exasperation.
"I need to know the colour," she says. "Visual details are important to me."
"It's dark blue," he says. "With tiny red flowers on it. And when you kneel down on it - carefully, thrusting your hips forward so you don't topple over in the heels, your pale skin really stands out against it. He sits down on an easy chair and looks at you. Really looks you over, every detail of your body, every hair, every pore, every single part of the front of your naked body. Your nipples are standing out so hard they almost hurt, and you feel very exposed." Shauna blinked.

"But I volunteered to do this?" she asked. He nods.
"Well, sort of. You agreed to do whatever he wanted, and this is what he wants. Do you shave your bush, Shauna?"
"Do I… what sort of a question is that?" she asked, amazed.
"One that will help me to tailor the fantasy to suit you," Dan said. "Come on. Bikini shave? Brazilian? No shaving or waxing at all?"
"Bikini," she said. "Not that it's any of your business."
"Of course not," he said. "And it's dark and thick, like your hair." She just looked at him, her blue eyes steady over the rim of the glass.
"I'll take that as a yes," he said.

"So - he's looking at your breasts, your nipples, your belly, your lush, dark pubic hair, looking at you as if you're his pet and he's deciding what to do with you. Then he tells you to crawl over to him, just on your knees the way you are. And you do it, everything jiggling around, going right up to his seat. He reaches out and pinches each of your nipples. Not hard. Just enough to hurt a little."
"Bastard," Shauna said.
"You like it," Dan corrected.
"I don't think so," she corrected him in turn.
"On this night, you do," he says. "He tells you to stand up, to walk ahead of him, through the living room, up the two stairs again, down a hallway and into a room, off to the left. It has a large, steel table in it. With a bar running all the way round it. It's a high table." Shauna nodded.

"He tells you to get onto it, but with your hands cuffed, it's impossible for you to climb, so he picks you up and puts you on it, face down, your butt up in the air. And he plays with your butt, tickles it and strokes it and pulls your cheeks apart and has a good look between your legs while you wriggle about and protest and try to roll over. His hands on your skin remind you that you're nude and helpless. The table is cold under your skin, and your breasts are hanging down, occasionally brushing against the surface as you struggle."
"You paint a vivid picture," Shauna said. "Keep going."
"Thank you. Eventually he helps you to roll over, but with your hands cuffed behind your back, it's uncomfortable, particularly when he takes one of your shoes in his hand, draws it out to the side of the table and ties the heel securely to the bar. Then he does it with the other one. Now, you're lying there, legs pulled wide apart, unable to close your knees or get off the table."

"What happens next?" she asked, unaware that she was almost whispering.
"Now, he really starts to explore you. He touches the insides of your knees, runs his hands up your thighs, stands between your feet and makes a point of looking up between your legs. You feel very vulnerable, very open. And then he starts touching you there, running his fingertip around your clitoris, opening up your lips, pushing his fingertip inside you. Just enough to stir you up and make you aware that he can see everything, touch anything, do anything he wants to you." Shauna nodded.
"He tickles your sides, all up the front of your body, your pubic mound, your hips, your waist, your belly, and you're wiggling around and giggling, because you hate being tickled."
"I do hate being tickled," Shauna agreed, pulling a face.
"And he tells you that if you don't lie still and be quiet, you'll be punished. But you can't. He tickles you more, some of your most ticklish places, and you're laughing helplessly and begging him to stop. He does stop. He says you have one more warning. If you don't lie still and be quiet, he's going to invite some other people in to see you."

"What?" Shauna asked, caught up in the fantasy now, unconsciously moving around in her seat. "But he can't do that!"
"He can do whatever he wants," Dan reminds her. "He's in charge. You aren't. So, you try to keep still, to keep quiet, but he tickles in between your legs, and under your breasts, and all over your belly button, and before you know it, you're writhing around again and laughing involuntarily. He stops, looks at you and says "you were warned", and you call out after him and plead with him not to let anyone else in."
"Does he listen?" Shauna asked. Dan shook his head.
"Of course not. He walks to the doorway, disappears for a minute, and when he comes back, he has three men with him."
"Three?" Shauna asked.

"Three. You know all of them. One of them is middle-aged, prosperous, and he's looking straight up between your legs as he walks in. You struggle to close your legs, to sit up, but you can't. All you can do is lie there, seeing him look at you in all your exposed glory. The second one is close to you in age, an office worker, a computer geek. His eyes widen as he sees you, lying naked and spread out on the table, and he walks straight up to the side of the table and looks directly at your naked boobs, at your hard nipples. You can feel the intensity of his stare on them. The third one is young, not much more than a kid, and he has the big grin on his face that says he is going to enjoy this."
"I don't like this," Shauna said. She knew people who fitted those descriptions, could put faces and leers to the images.

"No, you don't," Dan continued. "And your master comes over to the table, and starts to tickle you again, in front of all of them. Your breasts bounce and your butt lifts up off the table as you struggle, and every part of your body wobbles and jiggles, making all of them laugh nearly as hard as you are."
"This is undignified," Shauna said. "Change the fantasy."
"Change it?" Dan asked. She nodded.

"Alright," he said. "Submissive fantasy number two. You are wearing nothing but a short t-shirt and a pair of high heels."
"What is it with you and the high heels?" she asked.
"It's just part of it," he said. "Live with it. The t-shirt is so short that even when you stand still, the very bottom of your butt cheeks can be seen, and it's cut low and wide at the front, so that if you aren't standing perfectly straight and perfectly still, your nipples can be seen. And since you're not wearing a bra, or panties of course, your boobs are moving about under the t-shirt. Which is very thin and white."
"And where am I?" she asked.
"In the carpark of a supermarket. It's nighttime, but there are a lot of lights in the carpark. He's given you a list of things you have to buy, but first, you have to walk across the carpark. And you're not allowed to adjust the t-shirt until you reach the doors of the market."

"But surely, as I walk..?"
"That's right," Dan said. "As you walk, the t-shirt rides up at the back. Within five steps, almost your entire butt is on show. You can feel it, and you can hear comments from people around you. You're keeping your shoulders straight, in an effort to keep your tits contained, but that lifts the t-shirt up higher, and you know that if you look down, you're going to see some of your bush sticking out, on view."
"How much further do I have to walk?" Shauna asked.
"About another sixty steps," he said. "With the t-shirt up around your waist, your entire bum on view to everyone who cares to look, your pubic hair holding the hem of the t-shirt up at the front, and your boobs bouncing around madly."

"I'd be arrested," she said.
"It's a fantasy," he pointed out. "In fantasies, everyone just looks. And even in reality, in some places, you'd be more likely to get away with it than others. Back to the fantasy. Some people are just standing and staring at you, smiling and laughing. Because there's no-one there forcing you to do this as far as they can see, so you must be an exhibitionist. You must enjoy the attention. But of course, you don't. You can't walk fast, because of the high heels, and you have to sway your hips a lot because of the heels too. And he won't let you cover yourself or adjust the t-shirt."
"I don't like him," Shauna said. She poured another drink.
"You don't have to," Dan replied. "You just have to do what he tells you to. So, you get to the door of the shop, and you adjust everything, pull it all down as much as you can, cover everything up as much as possible with great relief. And then you go into the grocery store to buy the items on your list."

"Is it crowded too?" she asked. He shook his head.
"It's late at night, but there are a few people there, mostly men. And in every aisle, you have to get something from the top shelf and something from the bottom shelf, and you are not allowed to adjust your t-shirt until you get to the end of each aisle."
"Do people say anything?" she asked.
"They sure do. They say things like "nice arse" and "do you know your nipples are showing?" and "bring that over here, babe" and things like that. There aren't any children around, only adults. And the men in particular are all watching you very carefully. In fact, some of them are following you from aisle to aisle, and they're grinning whenever they see you bend down to pick something up. You can't bend your knees, by the way. And you have to keep your feet apart. Same whenever you reach up. You have to keep your feet hip-width apart. Whenever you do this, several of them suddenly seem to need to bend down to pick things up off lower shelves."
"Perverts," Shauna said.
"Well, what do you expect? You're showing them everything you've got. They haven't forced you to do it, you're putting on a free show, and they're appreciating every tiny little bit of it."

"I still don't like them," she said. "You'd think one of them would realise I needed help."
"But you don't," Dan pointed out. "You don't like being naked, or almost naked in public like this, in fact, you're horribly embarrassed about it, but you want to please your master, so you're doing it willingly."
"How silly of me," she said. "Go on."
"When you get to the freezer section, it gets really bad, because you have specific instructions here. You have to get a tub of icecream, but it has to be the bottom tub of icecream in the stack. And there are ten tubs there. Which means that you have to shift each one, one at a time, to another stack, before you can get to the bottom one, which is almost down at floor level inside the freezer."

"He's just being deliberately difficult, isn't he?" she commented.
"He's testing your submission," Dan corrected. "Each time you bob down to get another tub, your breasts bounce around. They've fallen out of the t-shirt, naturally, and they're cold from the freezer, so your nipples are sticking out a mile."
"They'd be hurting," she said.
"Probably a little," he agreed. "And with every bend, you reveal your backside and everything between your legs, which are apart, as usual. Every bend down into the freezer is deeper, so each time you show more to all of the men standing behind you."
"Are they all there?"

"Except the ones on the other side of the freezer looking at your naked boobs," he said. "Some men prefer boobs, and fortunately, you're catering for all tastes. When you're down to about tub number five, as you're bending over, you feel someone touch you between your legs, just a light, teasing touch. You have to finish shifting the tub before you straighten up, that's one of the rules, but you do it quickly and jump up and look behind you. Everyone is just smiling - more like smirking, really, checking out everything you've got on show, which is just about everything you've got. So, because you have no choice, you turn back round and bend down for tub number six…"
"And it happens again?" Shauna asked, wriggling a little in her seat again.
"It does," he said. "A long, soft touch, from just in front of your clit, all the way back up to your butt. And there's nothing you can do about it. And you have another four tubs to pick up."

"Does it get worse?"
"Naturally. The next time, there's two fingers on you, and because you have to bend down further, your feet are off the ground, and you're actually balancing on the edge of the freezer, with these two fingers touching your most private places. Your breasts are brushing against the cold inside walls of the freezer, and it's difficult enough to push yourself back up to a standing position without these fingertips taunting you and making it worse." Dan took a drink to moisten his throat.

"By the time you're up to…or rather down to tub nine, the men behind you are holding your thighs for you, so you don't topple right in. Of course, they're also spreading your thighs further, too, just in case there was any tiny little fold or crevice you hadn't already displayed to them. They don't pull you back out all that quickly, and they hold you almost vertical, so the t-shirt slides right down your body and hangs over your face. One of them is making a point of rubbing your belly while you're like that - for good luck, as if you're one of those statues of Buddha. And another one is rubbing your bush. Not for good luck, just because he wants to. And you can't stop him. You're naked and helpless."
"Upside down in a freezer?" she asked.
"Yes," Dan said. "Humiliating, isn't it?

"Very," she said. "And for the final tub of icecream?" He laughed softly.
"They help you back into the freezer, if "help" is the right word for it. But this time, once you're there, with the t-shirt over your face and your naked body upended, they let go of you and leave you there, kicking your legs about and trying to get out. Eventually, you have to let yourself slide sideways onto all of the frozen food and sit up on it. Of course, you're not allowed to adjust the t-shirt, which is now sitting up above your breasts. You're on the frozen turkeys, by the way. And every time you try to get up, holding the big tub of icecream, you slide around on them, your butt slippery and cold."

"How appropriate that I would be with the turkeys," she said. "And how do I get out?"
"You have to straddle the side of the freezer, balancing on your personal bits, with tub number ten in your hands, and sort of fall out of it."
"And is that the end of the shopping?" she asked. He shakes his head.
"You have to line up and pay for it, and carry it out to the car. And then you have to go back in and buy some shoes."
"No," she said. Visions of a shoe salesman looking up her legs popped into her head.
"No?"
"No, I've had enough of this," she said. "Next fantasy."

"Damn, you're hard to please," Dan said. "Hmmm… okay, you're tied, spreadeagled to a frame, naked of course, legs wide apart, hands above your head and out to the sides. It's an open frame, so he can get at you from behind as well, you're open and exposed from all angles. Just in front of you, there's a table, and on it are a number of items. Nipple clamps, a paddle, a ball gag, a really large dildo, and…"
"Stop!" she said. "Next fantasy. None of those things are going to happen in this lifetime." Dan laughed, then drained his glass.

"Alright, I was pushing it a bit there," he admitted. "Try this one. You're sitting on an office chair, bare, the vinyl is sticking to your skin. He is standing behind you, his hands over your shoulders, his fingers plucking at your nipples, while you open a lot of images on the computer in front of you. The images are of you, naked. Full frontals, from each side, from behind. There's ones of you with your legs wide apart, and others of you jumping up and down, your boobs in odd positions, making you look ridiculous. There's even one of you squatting down, legs apart, hands on your head, wearing nothing but a red clown nose. And you're attaching all of these images to an email that's addressed to everyone you know." Shauna wriggled in her seat. A lot.

"I wouldn't do that," she said. "I would never send nude pictures of myself to people I know."
"You would if he tells you to," Dan said. "Because he's in control. It's not up to you to decide what you show of your body to other people. It's up to him. You just do what you're told. But as it happens, he's given you a choice. Instead of sending these deeply humiliating pictures out to everyone, he's said that you can pick one person from your list, one man, and he will invite him over. And you will have to take all of your clothes off in front of that man and show him all of your body, from every angle, and do whatever he wants you to do."
"You mean - be submissive to him?" Shauna asked.
"That's right," Dan said. "So, who would you choose from your list?" Shauna picked up her glass, went to drink from it, then put it down again.
"Well, I'd have to choose you," she said. "Since you're so good with fantasies."
"You'd choose me?" he grinned. "Knowing what sort of imagination I have? That I wouldn't let you keep even a shred of privacy or dignity?"

Shauna nodded, stifling a shiver.
"Yes, I'd choose you," she said firmly.
"Good," Dan said. "Let's go, then." Shauna's mouth opened.
"What?" she asked.
"Let's go," he said. "Out to the cars."
"But…it was a fantasy," she said.
"Was it?" he asked. He reached into the pocket of the coat he had hanging over the back of his chair. The bar was dark around them, hardly anyone about. No-one to see the glint of light on the metal of the handcuffs. "The stiletto heels are in my car," he said, holding out the handcuffs. She took them, dazed. What was happening here?

"You know where I live," he said. "You know where to park your car, just outside the gates." He stood up, waited for her to stand. He was strong, tall, much taller than she was.
"I don't want to do this," she said.
"Don't you?" he asked.
"No," she said firmly. "I have no secret desire to be dominated. By you or anyone else." She laughed, nervously. "You know that."
"No I don't," he said. He sat down again though, left the handcuffs under his hand, leaned across the table. "I think you would enjoy having the chance to just be, rather than be in charge."
"No," she said again, shaking her head vigorously. "There is no way I would willingly submit in that way." She hesitated. "Although…"
"Although?" Dan repeated, encouragingly. She shook her head again. "Oh come on," he said. "With everything we've just discussed, you can say it." She sighed. Perhaps it would satisfy him and shut him up. The handcuffs had thrown her, as had his casual air of confidence. She'd feed him something, let him know that she wasn't quite the stitched up virgin he seemed to think. Then maybe they could get things back on an even keel.

"Alright. I have had some…thoughts about being tied to a bed, undressed, with a man doing things to me," she said, looking down at her empty glass, at her hands, everywhere but at his face, with his smiling eyes.
"What sorts of things?" he asked.
"Well, touching me, and maybe not stopping straight away, even when it feels uncomfortable or too personal," she admitted. Dan breathed out loudly, put his hand under her chin and lifted her face to look at him. She tried to pull her head away, but he kept his hand there.
"Touching you where?" he asked. "I want details." Shauna straightened her back and her neck. She'd meet his eyes on her own, thank you very much.
"Breasts, nipples, between my legs, that sort of thing," she tried to say airily. He nodded, the smile from his eyes curling onto his mouth now.

"And?" he asked.
"And, he makes love to me, without untying me," she says. "I can't touch him or participate in any way other than to just lie there and be made love to."
"You've cut to the chase too fast," Dan said. "I assume he goes down on you first." Again, she tried to jerk her face away from his hand.
"No," she said. "I don't like that." His eyes widened. "I just don't, alright? It's too intimate." He chews his lower lip to stop himself from laughing.
"So I suppose a blow job is out of the question?" he manages. Her eyes flash.
"Perhaps not," she said. "But I don't like anything to do with bodily fluids. Unhygienic and unpleasant. A real turn-off as far as I'm concerned." That wasn't said in the same prissy, quiet little voice. She really meant that, he realised. He took note of it.

"So, he's got you tied up naked on a bed, and all he's doing is feeling you up and screwing you?" he asked. "What a wimp."
"He's not a wimp!" she defended her imaginary lover. "He's caring and considerate and…"
"Completely under your control," Dan finished. "That's not submission, Shauna. That's just remote control. Does he gag you?"
"Of course not!" she reacts quickly. "If I can't talk, I can't tell him when I want him to stop."
"But he's going to keep going long after you tell him to stop, isn't he? Not just for a little while?" Dan teased. "I know I would."

She half stood, lifted her chin from his palm and sat down again, chair further away this time. The movement gave her the chance to control that tingly feeling his words had inspired in her nether regions.
"Which is why that will never happen!" she said. "I don't put myself into situations like that. Your scenarios with stilettos and handcuffs and rude men in grocery stores are not things that interest me at all."
"Which is why you were wriggling around in your seat while I was talking," he agreed, grinning. She almost gasped.
"You're so straight-laced, Shauna," he said. "You need someone to go down on you until you scream. And then it do some more." If her thighs were pressed any tighter together, she was going to tear a muscle. Just the thought of that, her legs held wide apart, a man's tongue…she put that thought out of her head immediately, controlling the squirm, but not the look on her face.

"Where's that spirit of adventure of yours?" he asked.
"What spirit of adventure?" she asked. "I'm in a well-paid, responsible job, I own my house, I have insurance. And I even wear low heels," she smiled as she said that. He grinned back.
"And you never took on a job that you were scared of?" he asked. "Or did something you were terrified of, but did anyway?" She conceded it with a twist of her mouth.
"And how did you feel afterwards?" he asked.
"Relieved!" she said quickly. He waited, looked at her with his eyebrows raised.
"Alright, it felt good to know that I'd done it," Shauna said. "But…!" she interrupted before he could say anything else. "I felt good because I'd done it. With what you're suggesting, I wouldn't be doing anything, it would be being done to me."

He nodded.
"But…!" he echoed her word and tone. "It's something you're scared of, something you're quite sure you can't do."
"No, it's not something I couldn't do. It's something I'm sure I wouldn't like, which is completely different."
"So you could do it?"
"Well of course I could do it," she said.
"Prove it," he said simply. She sighed.
"That might have worked when I was sixteen," she said. "But not now. I don't need to prove anything to you."
"No, but maybe you need to prove something to yourself," he said reasonably. "Perhaps you need to prove that you don't always have to be holding the strings to everything and pushing the buttons for everything. And perhaps you need to prove that you can survive intact even if you go through an experience where things get completely out of control?"
"Now who's pushing buttons?" she accused. He laughed and shrugged.

"And you?" she asked. "What do you get out of it?" He stopped laughing, but his eyes were still dancing.
"Apart from seeing you naked and getting to have sex with you?" he asked. He grinned again when she glared. "I get the fun of experimenting with a strong woman, a woman I respect, of testing to see how far I can push her."
"Of being a total control freak?" she suggested, prompting more laughter.

"Alright, I can understand all of that," she said. "Which is not to say that I would ever do it, but what I don't understand is what would keep me doing it." She held up her hand to stop him when he would have spoken. "When something became uncomfortable or embarrassing or just too difficult to put up with, what would prevent me from just stopping?"
"Handcuffs in some cases," he said. "Me in others. I could physically restrain you." That sent another shiver down her spine. He said it so matter-of-factly, as if there was no doubt at all about it. Which there wasn't.
"But if you went ahead with something like the shopping centre fantasy - modified to ensure that I wasn't going to be arrested I might add, then what would stop me turning on my high heels in the carpark and telling you to get stuffed?" She topped her glass up yet again, went to fill his, but he covered it with his hand.
"We have to drive," he reminded her. She grimaced, pushed her own glass away from her.

"Well," he said. "I'd hope that if you committed to the experiment, you'd carry through with it, being an honourable woman and all." He looked into her eyes. "No?"
"Not a chance," she said. "The minute I felt humiliated in any way, I'd be back in the car and driving home."
"Well, I could refuse to let you into the car," he pointed out. "But if you were obviously distressed, someone would probably help you, so that wouldn't work. Hmmmm." He sat, fingertips pressed together, thinking. She could see something was going on in his eyes.
"Spit it out," she said. She'd known him for too long to not recognise that he had an idea, and he was wondering whether or not to use it.

"I could take some explicit photographs of you," he said. "Hold them as leverage?" Carefully, he was thinking to himself. Set the trap gently and hope that she walks into it. Shauna winced.
"That would work?" he asked. "Threatening to put them on a website and send the address to everyone you know?"
"God, you're enjoying just thinking about it, aren't you?" she accused. He nodded, smiling.
"Yes, that would work," she admitted. He kept smiling. That's it, Shauna. Just a little further into the trap.
"But I would never pose for explicit photos," she said. "It's just not something I'd do." As the trap closed behind her, she saw the gleam of what looked suspiciously like triumph in his eyes, but had no idea why.

"Heavens no," he said, barely keeping the laugh out of his voice. "You'd never take all of your clothes off and sit with your legs wide apart on a four poster bed, for example, or roll around on a fluffy quilt cover and let someone take close-ups of your boobs and your backside. Maybe with you holding something… I don't know, maybe a teddy bear?" His grin had spread to the point where it was nearly splitting his face. Shauna's mouth was open, a horrified look in her eyes.

"Evan must have an expensive digital camera," he commented, naming her ex-boyfriend, someone whose name he had been forbidden to speak unless prefacing it with swear words and insults. "The picture quality is so good. Or…was it your camera he used, Shauna?" He laughed at that. "I love it. How ironic."
"He showed you the pictures?" she was almost incoherent with a mixture of rage and mortification.
"He did better than that," Dan said. "He gave them to me. Showed me a whole new side of you, my friend. For a start, I never knew you were flexible enough to get your ankles up behind your ears like that." She put her hands over her face, looking over the tips of her fingers at him. Even in the dark light of the bar, he could see her blush.

"Why did he give them to you?" she asked. He shrugged.
"It doesn't matter," he said. "What matters is the fact that you let him take those photos in the first place, Shauna. Seeing them is what me think that it just might be worthwhile testing my theory."
"What theory?" she asked impatiently. "Oh, your stupid theory that all women are naturally submissive and that they need a nice, strong man to overpower them? God, I hate it when men think like that."

"I don't think like that," he said dismissively. " I don't believe that all women are submissive, just as I don't believe that all, or even most men are dominant. But I do have a theory that one woman - you, pushes herself too hard to control everything. And that you would benefit from having some time - a night, maybe two or three nights, where you don't have to make choices, take decisions, weigh up options and possibilities. A few nights, where all you have to do is what you're told, where all you can do is blush and bare it." Despite her annoyance, those last four words made her wriggle again, and she knew he saw it, because he grinned.

"I'm not discussing this any more," she said. "I don't know why I let you start this conversation in the first place. You keep the photos, Dan. You publish them if you want to…if you want to ruin our friendship, that is. But I am certainly not going to play along with any secret little fantasies - of yours, not mine, I might add, involving my submitting to your sick sexual games."
"Publish and be damned?" he asked. She nodded.
"Well I could do that," he agreed. "But I'd rather not. I'd rather have an agreement with you whereby you do what you say you'll do, where the only person forcing you to do what I tell you to do is you, Shauna."
"So I'd still be controlling things?" she asked. He shook his head.
"You'd just be controlling yourself," he said. "And compelling yourself to deal with the out of control situations I'd put you in." She actually considered it. Then rejected it.

"I can't do that," she said. "It's not in my nature to just do whatever I'm told, without argument."
"But wouldn't it be a relief to do it for just a little while?" he asked. "Knowing that you'd be back in control again at the end of it? Think about it, Shauna." She thought. She didn't look at him while she thought. She knew what he looked like, and she could imagine him in the role he'd described, viewing her naked body, extracting every last ounce of embarrassment from her, not leaving her with the tiniest shred of privacy or dignity. Dan was thorough and he was wicked. She shuddered. Of course she couldn't do it. She'd never be able to look him in the eye again. She' d have deep psychological traumas and would spend hours and thousands of dollars on a therapist's couch reliving this exact moment, this decision she was making.

And then she looked up. And saw a myriad of things in his face. Mischief, affection, impatience, interest…
"Would you hurt me?" she asked. He shook his head.
"Not much," he said. "And there'd be no excessive or unhygienic application of bodily fluids," he added, keeping a straight face. "Athough I'd definitely go down on you." Oh God. She almost lost the power of thought at that.
"Would you stop if I asked you to?" she asked. "Not just that, but anything?" Dan shook his head again. He looked down at the front of her green silk blouse, directly at her big breasts, and she had to resist the urge to cross her arms. How much worse would it be if she were naked?

"You'll really let people see the photos if I don't do this?" she asked. Dan paused, then shrugged.
"I might," he said. "But probably not. To be honest, I'd rather you didn't do this because of the photos. I'd rather you did it because it's something that you haven't tried. I'd rather you did it in the spirit of sexual adventure and in accordance with an agreement between us. As you said, I'd just use the photos to make sure that you continue to do what you're told, for the duration of the…experiment."

Shauna sipped at the scotch in the glass she'd pushed away before, and wondered if it was the drink that was making her even consider this. She was obviously mad. She liked to be in control, she liked to make decisions, work through options, consider possibilities. So why was her head hurting all of a sudden? And why was there that tingling feeling in her belly?

She squared her shoulders. Time to finish this. She looked up at him, looked him directly in the eyes. And saw something in them that she hadn't seen before. Something scary and humiliating and possibly dangerous. Something out of control. Something to test her. Something new.
"Alright," she said. "Let's do it." And that was the last decision she made for a long time.