The Instrument - Chapter One - The Dare
By Big Brother Alan - BigBrother-Alan@earthlink.net
A mini-novel about sexual slavery, humiliation, degradation, redemption and escape


My name is Joseph. Joseph Tate. Or, to be completely honest, Joseph Murphy
Tate, though I've always been reluctant to tell people that Murphy is my
middle name and not a part of my surname. I wasn't named after any relative:
Murphy is not my mother's maiden name. She just liked the sound of it so I got
saddled with the middle name of Murphy. Now that I am grown up and on my own -
especially now that I am what you might call a ski bum - everyone calls me
Murphy or Murph. Everyone thinks it's my last name. Fine, I say. Let them
think it.

I travel from one ski resort to another picking up work as a ski instructor.
It's a cash-only business, you might say. Heh. That's funny. Actually, it's
only sometimes a cash business. As often as not, it's a job for meals and a
place to stay at night. I'm also what you might call a gigolo, though I don't
like that word. I work the slopes during the day and the sheets at night. My
job is to stay in good physical shape, to be as good a skier as I can be, to
convince people to take ski lessons, and to charm women out of their money.
You wouldn't believe how many lonely 40-something women go skiing alone. Most
of them were at one time trophy wives who have money galore, old disinterested
or workaholic husbands, and a huge sexual appetite. I guess some of them
regret their choices in life and they find me while looking for some form of
stimulation away from their mansions and their clubs and their husbands'
social circles.

The keys to success in this line of work can be summed up in three points:
First, you have to be able to spot a likely target. There's no sense wasting
half the day on a woman who, in the end, is afraid to cheat on her husband.
Secondly, you have to have a personality that is completely disarming. It
helps to be a ski instructor. It allows me to get my foot in the door. But
when it comes down to it, the sexual encounter has to seem like her idea. She
has a need to feel like she's the initiator, that she's the one calling the
shots. If I were to come across as pushy for sex - or even worse, as pushy for
paid sex - I'd lose my client in a heartbeat. Thirdly, you have let her pay
you what she will. I never come right out and say, "It'll cost you three
hundred dollars." Instead, over the course of the day, she finds out little
details of my life - details that are usually well-crafted fabrications. Those
details add up to result in a kind of womanly sympathy. By the time a client's
ski trip is over, she usually ends up giving me money for a trip to visit my
ailing mother or to fix my broken car or some such nonsense.

I need to add here that my specialty is straight sex. There are all sorts of
people working the kinky clients but mine tend to want a good, hard,
long-lasting cock. I don't really even enjoy a hummer that much even though
many of my clients think it's a given that all men must have it. Come to think
of it, maybe that's part of what endears me to so many women. My cock seems
eager for their pussy and I work for their orgasm (or orgasms, in some cases).

But enough about my job and my lifestyle. My reason for writing this is to
tell you how an innocent little decision can alter your life. The decision
that changed my life came when I met two young and pretty women on the slopes
one day. I was between clients at the time and I held no illusions that these
girls were anything more than flirty professional women on a girls-only
outing. At the time, they struck me as lawyers: very self-assured, too busy
for boyfriends, out to let off some steam after a long and tough case. Anyway,
they were pretty good skiers and we had decided to find some untouched powder
so we took the lift as high up the mountain as we could. Then we hiked for
almost an hour up past the tree line to the very peak.

At the top, Kim, the more tanned girl with shoulder length, chestnut hair
proposed a bet. The last one to reach a tree that she pointed out below next
to a rock outcropping had to perform two dares. If one of the girls reached it
last, I and the other girl would propose the dares. If I reached it last they
would decide my dares. The tree was on the backside of the mountain, away from
the resort, so the race would put us a good distance away from anything
discernibly man-made. But that was okay by me. I didn't mind hiking and this
seemed a bit titillating after a string of clients that I didn't find myself
attracted to. Besides, I wondered what their dares could possible be.

I agreed to the bet and off we went. I'd like to say that I let them beat me
out of curiosity and it is true that they both took off like a shot - in a
very unsportsmanlike way, I might add - as soon as I said yes. But the truth
is that they were good and I couldn't catch them. I felt like I was being
hustled because I hadn't seen this kind of skiing out of either one of them
until now. Maybe I was wrong about their profession. They flew down the
mountain like they were trying out for the Olympic team and all I could do was
watch their tails and eat their powder.

It took about three minutes of hard skiing but I reached the tree in last
place, a few seconds after they had come to a full stop with their hands
resting on the tree trunk. "Why do I feel like I've been hustled?" I asked
with a smile on my face and a twinkle in my eye.

"Now Murphy, don't be a poor loser," said Jessica, the fairer of the two, with
silky blond hair that she was only just letting fall down past her shoulders
from the pony tail she had kept rolled up in her ski cap. "Kim, what should we
dare Mr. Murphy here?"

They just looked me up and down for a few moments with pursed lips, their
hands on their chins. Jessica said, "Mr. Murphy..."

"Just Murphy. You can call me Murphy. There's no need for such formality
between us."

"Okay, Murphy. Do you see that cabin down below?"

I looked. Sure enough, through a thin stand of trees was a sloped clearing.
About a mile down the mountain on the far edge of the clearing was a log
cabin. No road was visible but there must be one. It's probably on the wooded
side of the cabin, I thought. "Yes, I see it."

"I dare you to remove all your clothes and ski to that cabin."

"And what should I do when I get there?" I asked.

"Oh, we'll cross that bridge when we come to it," replied Kim. "Then, you'll
have to perform my dare."

Now normally, I would have been a bit hesitant to attract too much attention
to myself by skiing up to a stranger's cabin completely nude. The last thing I
needed was to have some scared cabin owner call the police. But everything
about this smelled like a setup. These girls knew what they were doing. That
had to be their cabin and they must have planned this whole thing from the
start. I was being hustled in some way or other but what the hell. I was up
for a change of pace and I could do a lot worse than an adventure with these
two beauties.

"Okay, a bet is a bet and I lost," I said as I removed my skis and boots and
began to undress. "Am I to carry my clothes?"

"Oh, no, no, no," said Kim. "You're to leave them here with us."

My socks were getting wet so I removed them first and tucked them into my
boots. My jacket was next, followed by my ski bib, which I made a great show
of laying across Kim's outstretched arms. I removed my turtleneck, handed it
to Kim and was standing there in my boxer briefs. But I had no intention of
acting embarrassed or shy, so I calmly stepped out of my underwear, walked to
Kim and slowly tucked them into the pocket of my jacket. I turned my back to
them, walked to where I had dropped my gloves, and kneeled to pick them up. I
could feel their eyes on my naked body. I turned to face them and slowly put
one glove into each of the pockets of my jacket.

It must have been 25 degrees out but I didn't feel the cold at all. In fact, I
felt a warm tingling sensation all over, as if their eyes were scorching my
bare skin. I derived a slight feeling of triumphant pleasure as I felt the
stirrings of an erection. I wanted them to see my enlarging penis, if for no
other reason than to let them know that if they intended to humiliate me they
weren't going to succeed. "I hope you're not disappointed to learn that this
isn't the first time I've found myself standing naked before women I've only
just met."

No comment from either girl.

I sat down bare-assed on the snow to put on my socks and boots. As I stood to
step into my skis, Jessica said, "I see you're enjoying yourself Murphy. Good.
There's no reason for you to feel embarrassed. You have a beautiful body and
the last thing we would want you to feel out here is any kind of humiliation."
Wow. It was like they were reading my thoughts. And now, in hindsight, I think
I detected an ominous stress that she put on the words, "out here," spoken
with a slight parenthetical pause.

I was on my skis but Kim had kept my poles. A camera had appeared from
Jessica's jacket pocket. Both girls were smiling, Jessica biting her lower lip
with a devilish grin. Kim said, "Go, go, go. We'll be right behind you."

I started off on a tear. Whatever slight erection I had was gone as my body
and legs felt the familiar sensation of wind and snow. I had never skied nude
before and it was exhilarating. I couldn't go as fast as I wanted since I was
making a trail through deep powder. I didn't have my goggles and I really
didn't want to tumble so I just took a quick but safe route through the thin
stand of trees till I reached the clearing. The sun shone brightly at that
moment just as I was breaking into a slalom down the still steep part of the
clearing. I had no idea where the girls were or if I'd ever see them again.
Maybe their intention all along was to photograph my bare ass as I left them.
They had my clothes, my wallet (with a fortunately modest amount of cash), and
nothing else. I didn't even keep any ID in that wallet. It's not a good idea
in my line of work. All that kind of stuff I keep in a small, long-term locker
at the resort, the key to which I keep in a hidey hole that I found in the
exterior brickwork of one of the many lobby fireplaces. I don't know why but I
always try to find a way to live without keys. In the past I've worried about
that particular quirk of mine but right now I'm glad for it.

The thought occurred to me that I would have to find the cabin owners or break
into it if it was empty to see if I could scavenge some clothes. It was a lot
bigger than I first thought. I slowed a bit as I approached. There was no sign
of habitation. No car in sight, no smoke curling out of the chimney. I
stopped, removed my skis and boots. I didn't want to clomp around on the porch
in case someone was home. There was no sign of the girls so I stepped onto the
porch holding one of my boots in front of my penis in case I encountered
anyone. I peered into the glass on the door but couldn't see much. I tried the
knob. Locked. I turned to walk around the porch to see if there was a back
door and was startled to come face-to-face with Jessica.

I was startled because I wasn't expecting anyone and I first thought I had run
into a stranger. As soon as I realized it was Jessica I let the boot drop to
the porch. Since she had already seen my body there was no need for modesty.
Seeing her was a relief. It meant the adventure was still on. And it meant I
wouldn't have to break into someone's cabin or steal clothes. She had an air
of excitement about her. Sure, she was doing a good job of keeping her cool
but she seemed not to be able to exhale completely. She was taking short
shallow breaths, keeping her lungs inflated. This became all the more obvious
as she removed her jacket. I stupidly thought at the time that she was doing
it to make her breasts seem bigger; to make them stand out more. What an
egoist I was.

But who can blame me? I was standing there completely nude with steam rising
off my body from the powdered snow that was melting. She had a buzz of
excitement about her as she reached into her pocket for a key. She approached
me to unlock the door and as she did, she put her left hand on my chest at
about my right nipple. Instantly, my penis became engorged. She pushed me
gently back so she could put the key in the door with her right hand. Her hand
was hot on my skin. As she turned the lock and opened the door, she let her
left hand slowly and sensuously slide down my chest. She didn't look at me;
her eyes were inside the cabin. Her left hand continued to trace a fine line
down across my abdomen as she moved away from me into the dark room. The backs
of her fingernails brushed faintly across my groin just to the right of my
penis as she withdrew her hand. I was left standing in the doorway with as
fine an erection as I had had in a very long time.