Jenny and the Cardsharp

Author: Jack

Keywords: .

Summary: Jenny tries to secure a contract for the firm, but the client is an old acquantaintance of Ashley's

Jenny had always wanted to see Las Vegas. There was something about the glitz and glamour of the place that just drew her, despite the fact that she was normally such a strait-laced young wife who didn’t gamble, drink, or smoke. Deep down, there was a part of her that wanted the vicarious thrill that would come from just being there, mixing with the people who could cut loose and enjoy the sinful town in the desert and feeling just a little bit wicked herself.

So when her new boss told her that a casino owner in Las Vegas wanted an Account Executive to visit for the weekend and go over the new ad campaign – and that he had specifically asked for Jenny – her heart pounded faster with anticipation.

She hadn’t been on the job all that long, and as the firm’s most junior account exec she should never have had a chance like this one. But apparently her promotional ideas had really impressed the client, and that knowledge made Jenny almost as happy as the prospect of the trip itself. All too often she had discovered that men were more impressed with her bust size than her ideas, but she’d never met Clayton Ross before, so he couldn’t have chosen her on the basis of her physical attributes.

The only problem, as far as Jenny was concerned, was the fact that she had an all-expense-paid weekend in Vegas for two, and her husband was tied up with meetings of his own in New York City the same weekend. In fact, he’d invited her to come along with him, but after her previous disastrous encounters in the Big Apple she had already turned him down. She couldn’t postpone the Vegas trip, and her husband couldn’t put back New York. And Jenny really didn’t want to make the trip alone . . . if for no other reason than the fact that life had taught her to always have somebody close at hand with bail money, extra keys, and a change of clothes. Just in case.

Jenny considered the prospect of the trip in the little cubicle that served as her office. A successful job in Vegas might just get her a real office, with a door and a lock. But who could she take with her . . . ?

Why, her best friend, of course!

She picked up her phone and dialed the number. "Hello, Ashley? It’s Jenny. Remember I was telling you last week how much I always wanted to visit Las Vegas? Well, you’ll never believe it, but I’m going this weekend!"

Jenny explained her good luck to her friend, and then told her that the reservations were for two. She’d already told Ashley about her husband’s New York plans, and her friend was quick to pick up on the opportunity. "You’re inviting me?" she asked Jenny. "That’s so sweet of you. I’d love to spend a mad weekend on the Strip with you."

Cringing just a little at a word that had unpleasant connotations for her, Jenny nonetheless was delighted. She made all the arrangements with Ashley, and hung up the phone feeling more excited than ever. Bursting with energy, Jenny jumped out of her chair and reached for the conservative jacket hanging by the door of the cubicle. Unfortunately, she hadn’t noticed during her phone conversation that she had absently pushed closed a file cabinet drawer that had trapped the hem of her skirt, and when she bounced out of the chair the sound of ripping cloth sounded loud through the entire office. The sounds of clattering word processor keyboards and subdued phone conversations died away for a moment, and Jenny blushed as she saw Dick Howard craning his head around his cubicle wall to see what it was that had torn.

She looked down to discover that her skirt had come off, but she was wearing a full slip under it, so the exposure wasn’t anything to worry about. Jenny darted a murderous glare at Dick and then opened the desk drawer where she kept her extra set of clothes against just such an emergency.

Jenny didn’t care. She was going to Las Vegas!

Ashley hung up her phone with a gentle but somehow wicked little smile on her face. So that little fool Jenny had fallen for her trap? Things were working out exactly as Ashley had hoped they would.

She wasn’t entirely sure what it was that made her dislike Jenny so. Perhaps it was the fact that Jenny was an annoying, perky little blonde with a perfect body and 38CC tits who reminded Ashley of the cheerleader who had stolen her boyfriend in high school. Or maybe it was the way Jenny was always looking at the world through rose-colored glasses, refusing to see anything bad in anyone or anything. You would think, Ashley told herself, that anyone who had been publicly humiliated as often as Jenny would start to get a little bit defensive, but not her. She plunged carelessly from one adventure to another, just as cheerful and carefree as ever, and if these days she took a few more precautions against the "accidents" that seemed to plague her – many of which, Ashley knew well, were anything but accidents – Jenny still seemed too wide-eyed and full of innocence to be for real.

Ever since Jenny had first attached herself to Ashley in that cloying, clinging way of hers, the blonde had been a pain in the neck. Ashley had tried to chill the one-sided friendship by every means she could think of, but nothing seemed to work. Even after arranging several of those so-called accidents which had left Jenny exposed for the world to see – and experiencing a few disasters herself when things went awry – Ashley still found herself cast in the role of friend, confidante, and surrogate big sister.

Well, if Jenny was going to be foolish enough to confide in her, Ashley might as well take advantage of opportunities as they presented themselves. So when she heard that Jenny’s firm did business with Clayton Ross, and learning of Jenny’s eagerness to visit Vegas . . .

Ashley had been a dealer in Vegas for a couple of years right out of college, and she had known Clayton Ross back when he called himself Tommy Clay and hustled suckers out of their winnings in rigged poker games. After he’d made his big score and gone legitimate as a casino owner, Tommy had changed his name and his lifestyle, but Ashley still remembered him. And he owed her a favor for not turning him in after that little misunderstanding at the Palace that time. The perfect set-up, Ashley told herself. A call to good old Tommy, a couple of reminders about the things she knew about him, and he’d been more than willing to listen to her plan to teach Jenny a little something about life.

Yes, this was going to be a fun trip.

Vegas had proven to be everything that Jenny had hoped for, and then some. She and Ashley had flown in on the red-eye early Saturday morning, and spent some time relaxing and catching up on their missed sleep in the hotel room they shared courtesy of Clayton Ross after they had unpacked. Mr. Ross proved to be tied up with business for the rest of the day, so late in the afternoon the two young women hit the streets of the city.

They dressed up for the occasion. Jenny wore a light blue dress that brought out the color of her eyes. It came down below her knees, and was conservatively cut, but it was a little tighter across her chest than she really felt comfortable with. Still, it was just about the only outfit in her wardrobe that seemed right for an evening on the town, and worn with a slip and a sturdy yellow brassiere Jenny figured there wasn’t much chance of a disaster tonight. Dark blue shoes with two-inch heels, worn with stockings and a garter belt, finished the outfit off. She felt a little wicked wearing the stockings instead of panty hose; it was the kind of thing you wore if you were expecting to have your husband see you later on without the dress or the slip . . . . But she wanted to feel elegant when she had her chance at seeing Vegas, and everything she wore that evening, including the yellow silk panties, were selected with that in mind.
Ashley dressed a little more casually, in a green miniskirt with a matching jacket, a frilly white blouse, and underwear that was functional rather than luxuriant. Unlike Jenny, Ashley wasn’t striving for any glamorous effect. Her fun, this trip, would come from other sources than mere fantasies.

Jenny enjoyed the evening every bit as much as she had expected to. Ashley turned out to know Vegas from a short stint there as a dealer at one of the casinos, and she became Jenny’s guide for a whirlwind tour that left them both breathless.

After a light dinner, they took in a show, and Ashley urged Jenny to try one of the complimentary drinks. Normally Jenny hardly ever touched alcohol, but she was having fun, and she didn’t like to look square in front of her worldly brunette friend, so Jenny tried the "screwdriver" Ashley recommended and decided she liked it. She even had a second one a little later, and found that it really did help to loosen her up to enjoy herself.

Laughing and joking, the two women arrived back at the hotel about midnight and started for the elevator when a tall, distinguished-looking man in his early forties intercepted them. "You’re Jenny, aren’t you? I’m Clayton Ross. Sorry I couldn’t see you earlier. There just never seems to be enough time for everything, you know?"

Jenny shook his hand. She felt a little light-headed and disoriented, but the appearance of her client made her force herself to stand a little straighter and try to put her best foot forward. "Thank you for inviting me out here, Mr. Ross," she said slowly. Her tongue seemed a little thicker than it ought to, but she enunciated the words carefully. "I’ve been having so much fun I’ve hardly had a chance to think about business anyway." She paused, trying to think of something that was terribly important but which was eluding her for the moment. Finally she remembered. "Oh . . . I’m sorry. This is my friend Ashley. She came out with me, since my husband couldn’t be here."

Ross exchanged a distant nod with Ashley. "Look, I know the hour is late, Jenny, but right now I have a few free minutes that I might not get tomorrow. Would you care to go over our business now?"

Jenny would have preferred to go and lie down in her bed until her head was a little bit more clear, but a good ad exec seizes any opportunity to sell. "I . . . I guess so, Mr. Ross," she said. "Er, Ashley . . ."

"Oh, your friend can come in with us," Ross said. "This will only take a little while, and then the two of you can be out and about again." He didn’t wait for an answer, but guided them toward the entrance to the largest of the hotel’s casinos, crowded with players even at this late hour. His office was at the rear of the big room, surprisingly low-key after the glitter outside. There was a large window set to overlook the casino floor, but it was screened by venetian blinds at the moment. Ross ushered them inside, then turned away from the door as someone called to him.

"Hope this doesn’t bore you, Ashley," Jenny whispered to her friend while Ross was briefly distracted by an employee with some problem only the boss could handle. "I was figuring you could go on up to the room, but I don’t want to rock the boat, and he seems to be happy with you coming along."

The brunette smiled at her. "Don’t worry, Jenny. I’ll keep myself amused."

Ross came in and closed the door behind him. "Won’t you ladies have a seat? Here at the table . . . it’s so much less formal than the desk." He offered drinks, but Jenny had already had more than she could handle.

"Well, let’s get down to business, then, Jenny," he said with a broad smile. "Now, I’ve gone over the proposal your company worked up in some detail. I understand you worked on it?"

"Not alone, Mr. Ross . . ."

"Actually, my friends call me Tommy," he said easily. "And I hope we can be friends."

"Okay, uh, Tommy," she said. "I was part of the team that developed the proposal, but I can’t claim too much credit for it."

"Well, it was a good job. Unfortunately . . ." Jenny’s heart plunged.

Ross leaned forward, looking earnest. "See, here’s the thing, Jenny. I was approached by another firm about the same time as I was talking to yours. They’ve also put together a dynamite proposal . . . fact is, it’s really hard to choose between them. But the other company . . . well, my brother-in-law works there, and with the quality of the work being so close between the two, family loyalty kind of tips the scales, you know?"

"Gee, Mr. Ross . . . Tommy . . . I wish you’d reconsider," Jenny said. Inwardly she was reeling. Everything she had heard back at the office said the account was sewn up. If she came back from this trip and announced that Ross was going to a different firm, what would happen to her own prospects? A private office was starting to look awfully unlikely. The Unemployment Office was more like it. "Is there any way I can talk you around?"

"Well, now," Ross said slowly. He was studying her with that look in his eye Jenny had learned to expect from men. "I don’t know . . . I guess it depends on just what you’d be willing to do to save your account."

Jenny stood up. "Mr. Ross!" she said sharply. "I’m a happily married woman! If you think for one second that I would –"

"Oh, hold on, Jenny," he said, showing his engaging smile again. "Don’t jump to the wrong conclusion. I’m not asking for your virtue, or anything like that." Jenny blushed and sat down slowly. If there had been any hope of salvaging the account, wrongfully accusing Ross of designs on her body had probably wiped it out entirely.

"I’m sorry . . . it’s just . . . well, you sounded like . . . ."

"I understand, Jenny," he said. "And I have to admit that I envy that husband of yours. But I wasn’t going to ask you to sleep with me for the account. That would be just flat-out wrong. There was something, though, that you could do that might make me change my mind about the account."

"What?" Jenny didn’t know if she should be hopeful or suspicious. She normally liked to give everyone the benefit of the doubt, but that look he kept giving her . . . .

"Why, I’d like you to play a game of poker with me." Jenny blinked at him.

"Poker? You want me to play a game of poker?"

"That’s right," he said, smiling again. "Hey, it is a casino, you know."

"What, you’ll give me the account if I win? I’m really not very good at card games . . . ."

"Oh, no, I wouldn’t put you on the spot like that. No, you play the game with me, all the way through, and win, lose, or draw your company gets the account."

She swallowed. "I don’t understand, Tommy," she said, consciously trying to be friendly again even as she struggled with a situation that seemed as mad as something out of Alice in Wonderland. "You said that family loyalty was tipping the balance for you . . . but I can tip it back by playing a game of cards with you?"

Ross nodded. "All the way through," he repeated. "And you get the account." Jenny wished her head had cleared some more after those two screwdrivers.

"There’s got to be a catch," she muttered, more to herself than to Ross.

"Well, that depends on what you’d consider a catch," he answered her anyway. "Now me, I don’t have any problems at all with a little game of strip poker, but I don’t know what you might think about –"

"STRIP POKER?!" Jenny’s voice rose to a shriek. "I couldn’t do THAT!"

Ross shrugged. "Well, if that’s the way you feel . . ."

Ashley leaned close to Jenny. "Look, kid, you can’t just let that account walk away. I know how much it means to you. Go home to your boss without this account and you could be headed straight for a career at the Burger Barn, and you sure wouldn’t like that."

"But, but, strip poker . . ." Jenny blushed. Despite her perfect body, she had always been very modest. Considering some of the things that had happened to her in the past, she sometimes thought she should be over that by now, but she wasn’t. The thought of taking her clothes off in front of Ross was just too shameful to even think about. "I haven’t played poker since I was at a slumber party in eighth grade, when we played for Pringle’s. And I lost."

Ashley laid a comforting hand on her arm. "Look, Jenny, he’s not saying you have to strip down in front of him to keep the account. If your luck holds out okay, there’s a perfectly good chance you’ll be making him take it off. Right, Mr. Ross?"

The man nodded. "Sure. The house doesn’t win all the time."

"And, look, kid," Ashley said. "Tell you what. I’ll help you. I was a dealer. I know poker . . . so I can coach you. What do you say to that?"

"Well . . . " Jenny began, but Ross interrupted her.

"If you help her out, you share the risks, babe," he said, fixing Ashley with a steely stare. "Every time she loses, so do you. Still want to help?"

Ashley’s gaze locked with his for a long moment, and even in Jenny’s bemused state she caught an undercurrent of sudden hostility from the brunette. But after a moment Ashley gave a little nod. "All right. If that’s what it takes."

Jenny looked from one to the other. "And when the game’s over . . . I get the account? No funny business?"

"That’s right. Look, with two of you here chaperoning each other I can’t try anything. Besides, the room isn’t all that soundproof, and there’s a whole roomful of people out there who’d come running if one of you starting calling ‘rape.’ This is all on the up-and-up. I just figure that if a pretty babe like you – make that two babes – if you want to go the extra mile for this account, why, it should be yours. Simple as that."

Jenny felt butterflies in her stomach. Of all the times she’d faced situations that involved losing her clothes in front of some stranger, this was the first time she’d ever walked into it with eyes wide open, knowing it could happen. Usually she didn’t feel like this until after she heard the sound of cloth ripping. "Well . . . all right," she said, and gulped around the lump in her throat. "As long as Ashley’s willing to help me out, I’ll do it."

Ross smiled and produced a pack of cards. "All right, ladies, the name of the game is poker. Five card stud. Loser of each hand forfeits one piece of clothing. You don’t get it back even if you win a hand later. We don’t count jewelry or accessories, and pairs of shoes and socks or stockings count as one item each. Each of you loses an item when you lose a hand. Any questions? Good . . . I’ll deal."

Ashley glared at Tommy Clay as he dealt the first hand. Had the little slimeball just got his instructions confused, or had he added in the bit about sharing the losses just because it gave him a chance to strip her right alongside Jenny? She’d told him, when they were setting things up, to use that line only if looked necessary as a way to keep Jenny hooked. If the blonde had seemed unwilling to risk her clothes alone, then the idea of sharing her losses with her "best friend" might have eased her fears enough to keep her at the table. But Ross hadn’t waited to see how Jenny would react. Well, it didn’t matter much. Ashley had known it was a possibility, so she’d strip if she had to. The finale she had planned would still be a lot harder on Jenny than it was on her . . . .

She watched as Tommy dealt the cards, his hands moving almost too fast to follow. She was pretty sure he was dealing off the bottom of the deck, but even her experienced eye couldn’t be completely sure. Jenny picked up the cards and held them up so that Ashley could see them. She held two pair, jacks and eights, plus the six of clubs. Ashley debated for a moment. If she played it straight, Jenny had a pretty fair hand, and might get a full house. Or she could try to sabotage the hand. No. Not yet, she decided. Jenny wasn’t the brightest thing on two legs, but she might know enough to catch on if Ashley started giving bad advice too early. Let Tommy Clay bear the brunt of the plot for now. Ashley would remain the secret weapon, for use when it would really count.

She plucked the six out of Jenny’s hand and dropped it on the table. "One card," she said. The replacement skidded smoothly over the tabletop, landing squarely in front of the blonde. Jenny picked it up and showed it to Ashley. Another jack . . . full house!

"Dealer takes three." The gambler discarded and drew, then set his cards down on the table, face up. "Pair of aces," he said.

"F-full house," Jenny replied, revealing her own cards. She looked stunned. "Ohmygod, Ashley, we WON!" Their opponent smiled.

"Still early days yet, ladies," he said. He reached under the table and pulled off his shoes one by one, setting them off to the side. "Next hand."

Jenny watched as Ross shuffled the deck and started dealing again. Something nagged at her . . . something that didn’t seem right somehow. But the rush of winning that first hand made it hard to concentrate. As she was gathering up the cards for the second hand, it struck her that she’d thought the deal in poker alternated between the players. Ross had plunged right into the second deal without a pause. Was that the way it was done in a professional casino? All she had to go on was a distant memory of one game with five other teenaged girls.

Well, Ashley would have known if something was wrong, and she hadn’t protested. Jenny relaxed a little and studied her cards. Five and seven of spades, jack of hearts, queen of clubs, ace of diamonds. Even Jenny knew that was a lousy hand. She swallowed and held it out for Ashley to study. The brunette pointed to the two spades, and Jenny nodded. This time she was the one to discard them. "Two," she said, happy that her voice came out so flat and calm.

"Two for the lovely ladies," Ross said. "And dealer takes . . . one." The replacements were the ten of diamonds . . . Jenny felt a little tingle of excitement at the thought that she might get a straight . . . and the two of clubs. Crestfallen, she continued to stare at the cards as if she could change that two into a king by sheer willpower alone.

"Two pair, ladies," Ross announced. "Kings and fours." Jenny dropped her cards on the table.

"That beats us," Ashley said beside her.

"Well, then . . . will it be shoes?" Jenny reached down and slid her shoes off each foot. As she picked them up and placed them carefully beside Ross’s, Ashley added her own pumps to the pile. "All even," Ross commented. He shuffled. "Time to go again, eh, ladies?"

Tommy Clay was enjoying himself. Ever since that bitch Ashley had called him up, he had been looking forward to this day. Imagine the nerve of her, trying her hand at a little clumsy blackmail just to get him to help her in some sick scheme to humiliate her friend!

Ah, but what a glorious sick little scheme it was turning into for Tommy Clay! Jenny was every bit as hot as Ashley had described her, and it was going to be a real pleasure taking the clothes off of her gorgeous little body one poker hand at a time. And thanks to a careful misunderstanding of Ashley’s instructions, now he had the fun of watching her take it off right alongside her victim, and there was nothing Ashley could do about it without blowing her entire plan.

Yeah, this was going to be a nice night. He was glad he’d remembered to set up the video camera in the air vent before going to fetch the girls. He had a feeling this was one game he’d want to watch over and over again.

Tommy hardly even had to focus on cheating these two, especially since Ashley was at least nominally on his side and wouldn’t blow the whistle on him even if she could spot his moves. He toyed with the idea of letting Jenny win another hand to regain a little of her confidence, but decided against it. She was skittish, all right, but if he was reading her as well as he could normally read a mark the lure of that "lost" account would keep her at the table no matter what. She didn’t know the contract had been signed, sealed, and delivered three days ago – but it was so touching to watch her giving her all for the firm.

So he dealt her a pair of tens, with no improvement in the draw, while he gave himself three twos. When they’d gone through the ritual of discarding and drawing, he spread his cards on the table again. "Three of a kind," he announced.

Jenny looked distraught. "I only have a pair," she said plaintively.

"Ah, but what a pair," he said, casting an admiring glance at her ripe breasts under the tight blue dress. "Well, I guess that makes me the winner again." The blonde stood up with every sign of reluctance and turned her back to her friend.

"Could you help me, Ashley?" she asked. Her voice quavered just a little, and Tommy decided he liked that little edge of fear. The look on Ashley’s face was a grand sight, too, as she reached up and unzipped the dress. From the things she’d told Clay over the phone, this wasn’t the first time she’d plotted to separate the blonde from her clothes under humiliating conditions, and her face was reflecting a certain malicious glee as she "helped" her companion closer and closer to disaster. But at the same time, Ashley clearly had her own doubts about Tommy Clay, and glee changed to a sullen frown as he gestured for her to add her own contribution to his pile of winnings.

Jenny let the blue dress fall and stepped out of it carefully, then stooped to pick it up off the floor with one hand while the other hovered protectively near her chest. It wasn’t as if she was showing anything much, Clay thought. Her silky white slip covered almost as much as the dress had hidden. But when she straightened up and dropped the dress on the table, she wore a look of relief, as if she had expected something bad to happen when she bent over.

Clay’s attention was distracted by Ashley, who had taken off her jacket and leaned across the table to add it to the pile of clothes. She was giving him a great look down the top of her low-cut, lace-trimmed blouse. Her bra kept her own substantial charms hidden from view, but she still offered a tantalizing preview of things to come.

His eyes remained on her chest as he picked up the cards and started to shuffle again. 

Ashley caught Clay looking down her blouse and glared at him, fuming. The little slimeball HAD gotten her involved deliberately. Apparently just getting the chance to strip Jenny nude wasn’t enough for him . . . he planned to get two for the price of one.

She toyed with the notion of forgetting about her plan and just walking out. Jenny would no doubt panic and run too, account or no account, and that would be the end of that. But Ashley was reluctant to abandon her scheme. Jenny was down to her slip. Another loss and she’d be in her undies, and a couple more would be all it would take to set her up for the grand climax of the evening’s entertainment. Ashley could put up with a few more losses herself to see that.

The thought of trying to actually win the game never even crossed her mind. Clay was too good, too smooth. If he decreed that his opponent was going to lose, the opponent lost. Period. But Ashley was beginning to give some thought to what would happen after this little game was over. There were people who’d be happy to hear all about the origins of Clayton Ross, casino king, as a small-time card hustler named Tommy Clay. Especially if it became known that his first casino had come to him out of the winnings of a high stakes game of poker . . . a game he had cheated in to win.

Ashley would let him get his thrills watching her strip down along with Jenny. But then, by God, she’d make sure that he paid for his thrills, big-time.

Deal, draw, discard. When Jenny finally put her cards on the table, she had three jacks and a hopeful look on her face. She quickly lost it when her opponent showed her his heart flush. With an accusing look toward Ashley, she reached for the hem of her slip. "I thought we’d win SOME of the hands," she said. Ashley shrugged.

"Guess this isn’t our night," she told Jenny. As the blonde drew the slip off over her head, revealing her yellow undies and black stockings, Ashley stood and unzipped her skirt, tossing it in a ball on top of the other clothing on the table. That left her in her white blouse, which was long enough to cover her panties and the top of her pantyhose. She still wasn’t showing nearly as much as Jenny. As she sat down, she watched Clay cast an appraising eye over each of his victims, then reach out to gather in the cards and shuffle for the next hand.

Jenny was feeling awful. Three losses in a row, and here she was sitting across from a man she’d met barely an hour ago wearing nothing but a bra, panties, garter belt, and hose. That wicked feeling she had secretly cherished from wearing such sexy underthings for her night on the town had come back now to haunt her. How could she be displaying herself like this in front of any man except her husband?

Oh, other men had certainly seen her wearing even less than this. That seemed to be a fact of life where Jenny was concerned. But those times had always come about as the result of accidents, or the deliberate acts of unsympathetic strangers taking advantage of a woman in distress – like those damned boy scouts and their kite, or the Japanese tourist with the camera who had taken her panties as a souvenir when she was helplessly trapped by those elevator doors . . . .

This time, Jenny had dressed in garter belt and stockings just for the thrill it gave her . . . and now she seemed to be paying the price. This was one time that she couldn’t place the blame on outside forces beyond her control. She had agreed to play strip poker. And she was voluntarily taking her clothes off, piece by piece, as she lost. Jenny might have tried to blame Ashley for urging her to play, but she knew that was wrong. Ashley was as much a victim as she was in all this.

If only the casino account hadn’t meant so much . . .

No, Jenny told herself, that’s just a cop-out too. You sat down at this table agreeing to play strip poker. Now you’ll just have to live with the consequences.

For a moment, as she looked hopelessly at the three cards she’d drawn and realized they hadn’t improved her pair of five’s one bit, Jenny considered throwing down the hand and running for the door. The account, her job, they weren’t worth it. They couldn’t be worth the humiliation of playing out one losing hand after another, of not only losing her own clothes but forcing her best friend to strip too, but if that was the case, she should have refused in the first place. She and Ashley had already been humiliated just by stripping this far. Backing out now would make it all for nothing . . .

She slowly laid her hand on the table and watched Ross put down a pair of tens. Damn . . . why couldn’t he have had a weak hand like that earlier? The man didn’t even speak, this time, he just leaned back in his chair, raising one eyebrow, and crossed his arms in front of his chest.

Jenny began to carefully unhook her stockings, aware that each time she bent over her breasts threatened to overflow from the top of her bra. As her cheeks burned with shame, she finished freeing the stockings, then unhooked the garter belt and set it on the table.

Next to her, Ashley had removed her blouse. Now she, too, was exposed in nothing but underwear – bra, pantyhose, panties underneath. But the look she was giving Ross was defiant, and Jenny drew a little shred of courage from the way her friend faced the man down with her eyes, as if daring him to make a comment about their state of undress. Ross didn’t speak, though. He shifted in his chair again and reached out, his nimble fingers again scooping up the cards and shuffling for another hand.

Ashley was starting to sweat. She was feeling awfully exposed in her bra and tights, and the gleam in Clay’s eye was starting to get under her skin. The bastard was really enjoying himself. She glanced over at Jenny. The blonde was visibly trembling as she studied her cards and waited for Ashley to offer some suggestion of how to play the hand. As if that would do any good. Clay had dealt them nothing but garbage this time, as if to rub it in that they were going to keep on losing.

It seemed as if every one of her plots to take Jenny down a peg or two went astray somehow. Well, not every one . . . she could recall a few plans that had gone down perfectly. But for every one of those she could think of two or three outright disasters, like the time at the miniature golf game . . . or that time at the mall when the gang she’d hired to strip Jenny had attacked her by mistake.

Sometimes, when she’d mouthed off to somebody about how annoying Jenny was, they’d ask her why she hated the blonde so much. Well, she thought, now I finally have a good answer. The bitch is just plain bad news. A jinx. She not only gets herself in trouble every time she turns around, but she takes everybody around her down too. And tonight I’m caught in the line of fire again . . .

The draw didn’t make their garbage hand any better, and Clay’s two pair – kings and jacks – looked as if they were mocking the two women when he laid them down. Ashley stood up and slowly began to draw her pantyhose down, being careful to keep her panties from coming off with them. When she stepped out of them, it left her exposed in plain white cotton Jockeys for Women.

Beside her, Jenny had removed one black stocking and was working on the other, her movements once again giving Clay a nice show as her breasts threatened to spill out of her bra. Under other circumstances, Ashley would have been enjoying the sight of the blushing blonde, but she was uncomfortably aware of her own situation now, and that even detracted from the thrill of anticipating Jenny’s coming troubles.

Jenny finished with her stockings, and looked across the table at Clay. "Won’t – won’t you be satisfied with this?" she asked in a small, hopeless voice. "Isn’t this . . . enough to show?"

"All the way to the end, Jenny," Clay told her. "If you want the account. I’d say that’s . . . about two hands away. Not much longer." He picked up the cards to shuffle again.

This time, Tommy deliberately prolonged his deal, slowing himself down so that long seconds passed between the fall of each card. The look on Jenny’s face, especially, was priceless; she was already folding her hands across her tits as if that bra was gone. Well, it might as well have been. There was no way Tommy Clay was going to lose these next to hands.

It was a little bit hard to keep his dealing in mind, knowing he was about to make them reveal two sets of first-rate boobs. Still, he forced himself to glance down as he dealt each card. The surface of the table was polished to a bright, reflective shine, and he could check each card as it was dealt to be sure of knowing what he was handing out. He decided the blonde was starting to look scared enough to really consider backing out, so he made sure she had a good hand this time. Three aces . . . that should keep her happy. Right up until she showed Tommy Clay her tits.

He pulled the four jacks he had hidden under the edge of the table out and palmed the cards he’d dealt himself. Then he settled back to watch Jenny’s face brighten with hope as she asked for two new cards. He "took" three, just to boost her hopes a little more, and the blonde never realized how he was manipulating the deck right in front of her face.

"Three aces!" Jenny said, enthusiastic for the first time since his shoes had come off. "Let’s see you beat that."

He shrugged, almost apologetically, and slowly laid out his cards. Jenny was smiling as the first two jacks went down. Her face fell when two more joined the first two. "I’d do the old joke about having two pair – a pair of jacks, and another pair of jacks – but right now there are two other pairs I’m a lot more interested in. Ladies? The bras, if you please?"

Clay leered at them, relishing every moment. Jenny seemed almost paralyzed, unwilling to move, but Ashley reached behind her back and quickly unsnapped her brassiere, shrugging so that it fell forward and down her arms. She dropped it on the table and leaned back in her chair, crossing her arms in front of her with deliberate slowness, as if to say, "Look if you want, but I don’t have to let you look forever."

He decided he wasn’t going to let her get away with it. "Come on, Ashley, dear. You can do better than that. I won the right to a good look at those tits, fair and square. Now put those arms down and let me admire my winnings."

She looked like she was about to make a retort to his "fair and square" comment, but seemed to think better of it. He watched as thoughts seemed to chase one another through that calculating brunette head, and finally she gave a second little shrug and dropped her arms into her lap, revealing her breasts to him.

They really were lovely. Not as big as Jenny’s, but big enough, and firm, capped with dark nipples that just ached for a touch of fingers or lips. When Clay had known her before, he had fantasized about those tits when he saw them, braless, barely encased in the low-cut blouses that were the uniform of the casino where she’d worked. The female dealers had been dressed to keep the tourists distracted, and it had even very nearly worked on Clay the times he’d played their tables. Ashley had been the one he thought about the most, though, when he was alone in his room at night with nothing but his fingers for companionship.

Now, at last, he was seeing the real thing, not just an image conjured up from glimpses and hints and fantasies. Jenny still hadn’t moved, though, so he turned his attention to her. "Well? Does that bra come off, or shall I call my brother-in-law and tell him he’s got the account?"

She bit her lip and shook her head, but no words came out. With painful slowness her hand reached back to unhook the bra in back, but unlike Ashley she dragged out the revelation as long as she possibly could. Gripping the fabric tight across her chest with her right arm, she slipped her left one free of the bra strap, then switched arms and pulled the right arm out. Now she clutched the bra in front of her, as if unwilling to part with it. At last she swallowed hard, blushed all the way down to the tops of her breasts, and pulled the material away from her body. She draped it over the back of her chair instead of putting it with the other clothes. Clay supposed she had already figured out that leaning across the table to add to the pile would only put those glorious boobs that much closer to his appreciative eyes.

They were truly magnificent. Ashley had told her they measured 38CC, and he was willing to believe it. Rosy nipples, smaller and not as dark as the other woman’s, stood out from them, hardening in the cool of the office air conditioning. The delicate trace of blue veins only enhanced the two pale globes, milky-white against the tan of her arms and legs. It was plain that she didn’t wear a bikini to tan, but rather a very conservative one-piece. To Clay’s way of thinking, that only made her more enticing. Such a modest, almost prudish little thing . . . and yet she was sitting across the gaming table from him wearing nothing but her yellow panties.

She tucked one arm across the front of her chest, but it wasn’t really enough to hide her charms from him, and Clay didn’t chide her as he had Ashley. One nipple still peeked at him over the top of the arm, and the other was only half hidden. For a long moment nobody moved or spoke, until Ashley finally leaned forward, making her bare breasts shift delightfully. "Well? Let’s get this over with."

Clay gave her another leer combined with a thorough appraisal of her exposed charms, and gathered up the cards. It was time for the last hand. The moment of truth.

Jenny bit her lip and fought the urge to squirm under the appreciative stare of the man across the table. This was worse than just about anything she’d ever been through, worse than taking that nude roadside sobriety test . . . worse even than boy scouts! All she wanted to do was run for cover, but that option wasn’t open to her. She had to sit here, almost naked, and play the game through to the end. If she didn’t, she could lose the account, her job, everything.

Why, why had she wanted to see Las Vegas?

One-handed, she gathered up her cards when they were dealt and looked at them. She had a pair of queens . . . appropriate, somehow, to symbolize her and Ashley. In her present state she wouldn’t have been surprised if the cards she’d been given had displayed the queens with bare breasts, but they were just ordinary playing cards with plain, well-dressed royal ladies. Jenny would have given a lot to be one of them, right now.

Beside her, Ashley leaned forward as if oblivious to the way it pushed her bare breasts together. "Might as well toss in all three," she said. "It won’t make any difference." Her voice was resigned. Jenny felt a surge of sympathy and concern for her friend. She had been thinking so much of her own embarrassment, and not given a thought to how poor Ashley must be taking this.

"Don’t worry, Ashley," she said, trying to put on her brightest, most cheerful face. "We’ll get through this . . . together. Somehow."

"Just discard the damned cards and get it over with," Ashley growled, but Jenny refused to hold it against her. The other women had a right to be bitter. She wouldn’t have been in this fix if not for being such a good friend to Jenny. She laid the three discards aside, accepted three more. Jenny permitted herself a little spark of hope . . . she had another queen! Could it be that luck was finally with her after all?

One by one their opponent laid his cards on the table. King of Hearts. King of Clubs. Ace of Diamonds. Ace of Clubs. That was two pair . . .

Ace of Spades. A full house.

Yeah, Jenny’s luck was with her, all right. But as usual, it was all bad.

"I do believe you ladies owe me some underpants."

Once again Ashley moved more quickly than Jenny could force herself to. Standing, she hooked her thumbs into the waistband of her plain white panties and jerked them down in one savage motion. She stepped out of them and just stood there, hands on hips, not bothering to even try to hide her breasts or the curly dark hairs of her bush. "Get a good look, creep," she hissed. "Enjoy it while you can."

"Oh, I will, never fear," the man replied. And he spent quite a long time inspecting the brunette with lust-filled eyes. Finally, though, he tore them away from Ashley to rest on Jenny instead. "Take ‘em off, Jenny. Or somebody back at the home office is going to be very, very disappointed."

Jenny stood up slowly, still clutching her breasts with one arm. She tugged at the tops of her panties with the other hand, but they had ridden up into the crack of her ass and seemed to be fighting to stay on her. Why, she wondered, did a piece of her clothing choose this moment to actually fight to stay ON? Reluctantly, she had to bring both hands into play, letting her breasts swing free. Stooping to pull them down put her on display even more, but she forced herself to ignore her burning cheeks and pounding heart and stand straight again. She couldn’t quite bring herself to put her hands on her hips in brazen defiance, like Ashley, but neither did she follow her natural instincts and try to huddle up with her arms wrapped around herself, trying to cover everything. Instead she crossed her hands modestly in front of her pussy, knowing it left her breasts exposed but determined to maintain some small scrap of dignity.

The game was over.

"Well?" she said, her voice only a little shaky. "Do I keep the contract?"

"Oh, yes, of course, Jenny." He sounded surprised that she even needed to ask. "And I must say, you played a very nice game. I’d be honored to play strip poker with you again any time."

"Never again," Jenny said through clenched teeth. "I’ll just take my things and get dressed now . . ."

He held up a hand. "Ah, now, Jenny. The rules clearly said, you don’t get back lost clothes."

"During the GAME!" she exclaimed. In her anger she leaned on the table, make her breasts swing alarmingly and unknowingly revealing the light fuzz of her pubic hair. "The game’s over. I want my clothes, so that I can go up to my room and pack and leave this awful town on the first flight I can catch!"

"Well, you can go to your room and leave whenever you want. But not in these clothes. They belong to me. Spoils of war."

Jenny could hardly keep from jumping at him with nails extended like a cat’s claws. She reached for her dress, but he grabbed her arm with a grip like steel and squeezed until she whimpered in pain. Standing without relinquishing his vise-like hold, he pulled her toward him and forced the arm up behind her back. She felt his clothes brushing against her back and her exposed ass, and trembled as he bent his face down just beside her ear.

"I said those belong to me," he said in a soft but menacing tone. "Our business is done. You may leave now. If you don’t walk out under your own power, I know a couple of security guards who would just love to drag you out. And they might not just be satisfied with escorting you away from my office . . . if you know what I mean." He pushed her roughly ahead of him, crossing the space to the office door. Then he yanked it open.

The noise of the busy casino flooded into the office. Jenny stood there in the open door, her arm still pinned behind her back by the man she knew as Ross, completely mortified. The babble of the crowd died away slowly as people noticed her there and turned to stare.

The hold on her arm was suddenly gone, and Jenny jumped as a nimble hand swatted her bare ass hard enough to make her lurch into the casino.

She did what she always did in situations like this. Jenny started to run, through the room, into the hall, towards the elevators that would take her to the safety of her room upstairs, away from all those eyes.

Ashley let the venetian blinds fall back into place, smiling despite everything. Yes, making sure that Jenny had to run through the casino naked had been the perfect end to the whole strip poker game, and it had even been worth letting Tommy Clay see her strip to see the blonde scampering for safety, boobs jiggling and blonde hair streaming behind her as she ran.

She turned to find Clay looking at her again, studying her nude body with a speculative look in his eyes.

"All right, put them back in their sockets and hand me my stuff," Ashley grated. "If you’re really lucky, I’ll be happy enough with seeing Blondie’s little dash out there that I won’t think about how you stabbed me in the back tonight."

Clay didn’t move. "Ashley, dear, you really need to trade that personality of yours in on one that isn’t so rude. It’s going to get you in trouble some day . . . maybe soon."

"Stuff it," she told him, starting back toward the table. "Now, where are my panties?"

"The nearest panties that belong to you are up in your room, dear," he told her. "Or weren’t you listening when I explained things to your little blonde friend?"

She turned on him. "What? You little slimeball . . . you know that was just for her benefit!"

"Well, now it’s for yours, too. Or, actually, I suppose it’s mostly me who benefits. And of course everybody out in the casino. I’m sure they’ll be pleased to find out we have two shows for them." He paused. "And don’t bother to start getting dressed. What I said about Security goes for you, too. Don’t think I won’t call them. I owe the boys a little bonus for their good work, and you’d do them real nice."

She met his eyes with a hate-filled stare. "If you don’t let me put on my clothes and leave here RIGHT NOW, Clay, then I’ll just have to tell everybody who will listen all about who ‘Clayton Ross’ really is . . . ."

He shook his head in mock sadness. "Ashley, Ashley, are you really such a stupid bitch that you think that kind of crude blackmail is going to work with me? What have you got? Stories? Hell, I’ve heard plenty of stories from people talking about how they knew me when. Nobody has any proof, though, and there isn’t anyone in this town who will take the word of some little out-of-town bimbo over Clayton Ross, not without tons of proof to back her up." He smiled evilly. "On the other hand, when I send a tape of the out-of-town bimbo playing strip poker on her wild night out in Vegas, what’s that going to do to YOUR reputation? To your job? Your family? Any credibility you might have had will just dry up and blow away."

"A tape? You made a tape?" Ashley felt herself sagging.

"Of course, I made a tape. You think there’s a guy on the planet who gets a chance to strip down a couple of hot babes who wouldn’t set up a tape? I figure, aside from the one I keep for myself, and the ones I send out to your friends and family, I ought to be able to edit it enough so that the two of you put on a nice show for the video market. And I can vidcap it, too . . . it’ll make some nice sets to post on the Internet. I know a forum that’s into stripping that’ll just love to get hold of those pics . . ."

"Okay, okay," Ashley said, throwing up her hands in defeat. Then she realized how that made her breasts stand out, and she turned away from his gaze. "You’ve made your point. What’ll it cost me for the tape to stay in your private collection?"

"Why nothing more than you already owe me, Ashley. Just leave your clothes, walk out of here . . . and don’t ever even THINK about crossing me again. You get me, bitch? Now . . . I think your public awaits."

He threw open the door, and Ashley reluctantly stalked through it. She held her head high, and unlike Jenny she didn’t run in panic. Ashley had been defeated, but she knew how to make an exit.

Tommy Clay watched the naked brunette walk briskly through the casino, and grinned. He closed the door once she was out of sight, and walked over to his desk.

He wondered how long it would take the two naked babes to work up enough courage to come back here again, running the gauntlet of the casino and returning to Tommy’s lair.

They’d have to come back, of course. Neither one had taken her handbag, and without their keys . . . well, they didn’t have just a whole lot of options open to them.

Clay sat down behind the desk and idly wondered what he should make them do to earn those keys . . . ?