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I had accepted a bet: a bet I was sure I'd win because I do not make a bet otherwise.

So, this bet had landed me here, naked, restrained in the warm darkness at the mercy of the other half of the bet, all because of my penchant for theatrics and dominance. About a month or so earlier I'd walked into my office on a warm, Summer day just as I had all the previous days. The same files rested in unsteady stacks around the two desks. The same sickly flourescent lighting threw everything into harsh, glaring detail. My desk lay quietly under its thick layer of paperwork, water bottles and post-it notes. Nothing unusual at all.

I settled in, firing up my computer and the first few programs I'd need that day, printing reports, and in mid print I heard footsteps behind me. As a habit, I never turn around to face whomever walks in. "Yes?" I asked, still intent on updating the spreadsheet on my monitor.

"Billy was right about you, wasn't he?" a warm, slightly amused male voice asked behind me.

I paused, curious. "Right about what?"