Denise went back to the casino with her hard-earned money. She was sore, and her ass ached like it had been through a war. In a manner of speaking, Denise had been the route. She was constantly at war with her outmoded morals.
The more she saw and experienced, the more she realized that she had been living in a sexual ghetto. She had been depriving herself of some fantastic experiences by staying with Ray. Screwing Clark had not broadened her horizons that much.
Since coming to Vegas, she had her lovely white ass. And Wendy, cute, winsome little Wendy and her lesbian ways had turned Denise on more than she cared to admit.
The change was good for her. She figured that she might try hooking for a while longer. She certainly couldn't complain about the money. There was simply no way she could have earned as much bread in such a short time. There wasn't any other profession that would net her four hundred dollars for an afternoon's "work".
And she hardly considered fucking as work. It was too damn much fun to think of it as work!
Denise strayed into the big gambling area of the Stellar. She saw little old ladies stuffing coins into the slot machines, then walked to one of the machines and watched for a few minutes. There was something hypnotic about watching the wheels spin, then click into place before spilling out a handful of coins.
One woman seemed to be playing six machines at the same time, taking them in rotation. Denise was fascinated seeing the lady go from one, then to the next. The thought crossed the brunette's mind that this could be just as vicious a job as any eight to five rat race.
On impulse, Denise pulled out a quarter and waited for the woman to move to the next machine in her row.
Denise inserted the coin and pulled the lever. The wheels spun – and so did the woman.
With a feral snarl, the woman snapped, "Get away from my machines, you bitch!"
Denise watched the first wheel click. A bar was exposed in the small window on the machine.
"Lady, this is a public casino, and I have as much right to play these slots as you do. So bug off." The second wheel stopped and came up a bar. The woman's face turned red as the last wheel clicked into place. A third bar came up and set off flashing lights and bells to signal a large jackpot. Denise had won fifty dollars on her single quarter.
The woman glaring at her was absolutely livid with rage.
As Denise collected her winnings, the woman mumbled under her, breath, "That shoulda been me. I was playing that machine. I got it to the payoff and this bitch steals it away from me!"
Denise laughed heartily as she walked to the crap table. She observed several passes and a considerable amount of money being lost. Denise remembered Thompson's poor luck with the dice and decided to try something else.
If she could run the four-hundred – four-fifty, she corrected herself – into a nice, big stake, she could get out of town and try to find a good job somewhere else.
The roulette wheel seemed to attract her like a magnet, draws iron. She went to the spinning wheel and watched a couple of tourists pull in a stack of two-dollar chips. They had won just as she had that first time around with Clark.
Denise momentarily thought of Clark. Had he gone back home to his wife? Did he even regret leaving her stranded like he had? Denise doubted it. Clark was a real bastard.
Denise started playing the roulette wheel. Cautiously at first, then with growing desperation as her bankroll diminished. In less than an hour, she had lost all of her money through wild bets and taking risks with big payoffs that had little chance of ever happening.
Dejected, Denise made her way to the bar. She glanced around and found that Liz had gone off duty. It was just as well. Denise didn't want to hassle with the bitchy waitress.
She ordered a vodka collins and sat sipping at it. Soon, the tasteless vodka had begun to warm her belly and alter her outlook on life. Things weren't really all that bad, she decided. She could still pick up some idiot who had more money than good sense. She could give him a ride that would make it worth his while.
After three or four of the deceptive drinks, Denise was well on her way to being drunk again. She couldn't taste the alcohol and figured there would be little effect on her system.
When the meek little man approached her, she was less cautious than she should have been. She never noticed a well-dressed man in a corner booth intently studying her.
The diminutive man timidly asked, "Pardon me, Miss. Is this chair taken?"
He hesitantly motioned to the seat next to her.
"No," Denise told him, "go ahead and sit down. What's yer name?"
She didn't even notice the slight slurring to her words due to the booze she had drunk so fast.
"I… uh… my name's Wally." The man emitted a little squeak that might have been a laugh.
"Wally? Jolly Wally, my name's Denise. How's about me showing you a real fine time, huh?"
The man's eyes widened slightly. He bounced his head up and down vigorously.
"S'all right, then, let's you and me get up to your room." Denise bent over and whispered in his ear, "Since I like your looks, Jolly, I'll only make it fifty. Okay?"
The man's head seemed to bounce up and down even more vigorously. He managed to croak out, "Fine with me!"
They stood and left, unaware of the sandy haired man in the corner booth watching them.
Denise had to support herself on the man as they went to the elevator. Denise noticed that Wally's arm was far stronger than she would have suspected just looking at his mousy exterior. He looked more like an accountant, but he had the muscles of someone used to hard physical labor.
As they weaved across the floor, Denise cried out, "Hey, Wally, Jolly old man, let's give the slots one whirl to see how they go! What do you say about that?"
Before the man could say anything at all, Denise crossed to a slot machine and stuffed a quarter into the slot. She yanked down on the arm and wheels spun. A lemon came up and cheated her of any winnings. Another coin was tossed into the maw of the one armed bandit. Denise had still another loss.
Wally tugged insistently at Denise's elbow. He wanted to go up to his room – that much was obvious.
"What? Oh, hell! Yeah, Jolly, you're so right, yes sir! Right on. I almost forgot where we were headed."
Denise laughed drunkenly as she saw the silly grin split Wally's face. He seemed to be entirely teeth, all gleaming white.
She entirely missed the slight leer that might have warned her of what was to come.
Wally guided her down the hallway of the fifth floor until they came to the end. He fumbled for his key as be told Denise, "This is a special room. It's all the way down the hall and any from everyone. No disturbances. No one can hear anything that goes on down here, either. It's a nice room. I'm sure you'll like it. I like it a whole lot and ask for it everytime I come to Las Vegas."
Denise managed to keep from laughing at the man. He positively bubbled over with drivel in his eagerness to fuck her. She couldn't care less whether anyone could hear what went on in the room or not. It didn't matter to her if all of Vegas heard her fucking this little twerp. She'd even do it on television right now. She wanted some money. Wally was handy and apparently willing.
Denise stumbled in, booze soaking into her brain. She surveyed the room and found it to be nothing exceptional. Conrad's room had been a lot classier. The man had been right about one thing, though. The narrow hallway and the positioning of the closets made the room almost totally soundproof. In addition to the regular noise deadening materials in the ceiling, the location insured quiet and lots of it.
Denise started to turn to say something to Wally when powerful hands shoved her to the bed. She bounced up and down on her face, protecting her nose slightly with her hands.
She rolled over and cried, "What's…"
Denise stopped in mid-sentence. Wally had stripped off his starched white shirt and bland tie. He stood before her, naked to the waist, his muscles rippling in the dim light of the room.
Whatever he was, he was no physical weakling. He was short, but he had muscles that a weight lifter would have been proud of.
Denise instantly noticed the change in the man's bearing. No longer timid, Wally seemed domineering. He flexed his muscles when he saw she was so intently studying him.
"Like what you see, slut?" He held out his right arm and the muscles seemed to dance up and down his limb.
"Uh… yeah, Wally, sure I do. You've got quite a bod. Uh… want to get on with the… uh…"
Denise was slapped viciously across the face. The impact of the blow knocked her back onto the bed. She cowered and held her injured cheek. The change in this man had been phenomenal. One minute he had been a mouse, something contemptible. Now she was frightened to death of him and what he might do to her.
"You whores are all the same. You see a good man's body, and you get all sticky in your filthy cunts. I bet you're oozing out your slime now, aren't you, bitch?"
Wally backhanded Denise again. As she cringed, waiting for another blow to follow, site felt his powerful fingers slipping under the neckline of her dress.
Wally jerked savagely, and Denise's flimsy dress split down the front. She started to protest the treatment. He shoved her back down and ripped again. With a third quick motion, he had completely torn her dress from her body.
She was naked before him except for her skimpy underwear.
Wally openly sneered. "You cunts are all the same. Look at that disgusting brassiere! It offends me!" With that, he shoved both hands under the cups of her bra. Denise momentarily excited to the feel of his hands rubbing against her nipples, then she gasped in pain. The agony of him ripping her bra off had left a welt across her once smooth, satiny back.
"And those!" Wally pointed to Denise's shocking pink panties. "I think those are disgusting! And you're wet in the crotch! You lust after me, you dirty whore!"
Wally wickedly tore those from Denise's hips. Her clothes lay in tatters all around the room. This man was more than she had bargained for. The fog from the booze had been burned from her mind with the first slap across her face.
"Look, Wally, I… I'll do whatever…"
He slapped her again.
In a voice as cold as polar ice, he said, "You will only call me Master. If you do anything that angers me, I shall be forced to discipline you."
"Now look here, Wally…" Denise began, her temper rising.
In a motion too quick for her to follow, Wally shoved her back to the bed, rolled her to her stomach and grabbed both of her slender wrists. He held them easily in one hand. With his other, he rummaged in the table beside the bed until he found the rope.
He quickly bound both of Denise's hands behind her back and stood to survey his handiwork. Denise lay face down on the softly yielding bed, shivering with fear. Her hands were cruelly lashed together with a piece of coarse hemp rope that Wally liked to use for such adventures as this.
The man couldn't take his eyes off Denise's bouncing ass. It seemed to call out to him in some way he didn't fully understand. Whatever it was, Wally was absolutely certain that it was because of something Denise was doing on purpose.
"You wanton whore! You are tempting me with that ass of yours! For that, you shall be severely punished!"
He took another length of the coarse rope and landed a stinging blow on Denise's butt. She winced with the sharp pain that knifed into her body. How had she gotten herself into such a predicament? Denise started to cry.
"Quiet, you filthy pig! Silence!"
Wally continued to land blow after stinging blow on Denise's pert, snowy white ass. He watched the red welts rise and crisscross her butt as he continued to beat her. He had to discipline her for being so sexually promiscuous. It was his duty.
Wally felt himself getting a hard-on as he whipped the tender asscheeks in front of him. His muscles rippled under his tanned skin. Then, a thin sheen of sweat formed on his body. It was warm in the room, and the exertion was making him sweat profusely.
Denise sobbed and buried her face into the soft bedspread. The pain was excruciating. She felt each slap of the coarse, rough rope as it landed on her rear end. The prickly feeling irritated sensitive skin, raised welts and made her acutely uncomfortable.
The brunette couldn't imagine why she had been singled out for this degrading punishment. Her body shrieked out in misery every time Wally landed a smarting blow to her ass, and she began to tense her muscles just before each blow.
Once, Wally surprised her. She cringed when no stinging blow was landed.
The man laughed harshly, "You cringe before your master. Admit it, bitch, admit that I am your master!"
When Denise said nothing, Wally put one of his feet against her leg and pulled at her other limb with his hands, trying to split her apart at the crotch.
She gasped, "Stop it! You're killing me! My cunt, oh, my cunt's being torn apart!"
Wally continued to apply slow pressure and split Denise in half. She tried to free her trapped legs but couldn't. He had her in a grip that she simply couldn't break.
"Please stop, ooohhh, please – MASTER!" she blurted out hoping that would give her the release she so desperately desired.
"So," Wally smirked, "you finally acknowledge me." He released her from the punishing grip, and her legs almost snapped together.
Denise cringed again when she felt his well muscled hand touch her thigh. She wanted nothing to do with this evil man, wanted only to escape his clutches. At that moment, Denise Stockton fervently wished she could be anywhere else in the world – even with that piss poor fucker, Ray!