The party thrilled Tanya, even though she'd come with Charlie. The number of unattached men provided promise for her. She might find one who could give her all the things she didn't get with Charlie.
"Let's go, Tanya," Charlie said uneasily, after they'd been at the party for about an hour. "Not much happening here. We can go back to my place and…"
"Oh, hello," she said suddenly to a man passing by with a drink in his hand. "I don't think we've met. I'm Tanya Harris." She smiled winningly and turned her back on Charlie. She didn't bother to see what effect this had on him. Frankly, she didn't give a flying fuck.
Not when this man was ever so much more attractive to her. The man's muscles bulged and he had a couple scars on his, fact that showed his life hadn't been one filled with ledger books and other dull things. The tan on his face and hands showed he spent a good deal of time outdoors. Perhaps he was an explorer. A man who had seen the upper waters of the Amazon or crossed the North Pole on a dogsled.
"These parties get more and more interesting every time," he said, glancing from Tanya to Charlie and then back to the dark-haired woman. "I'm sure you haven't been here before. I'd've remembered."
"Why's that?" she asked, fishing for compliments. The woman didn't try to figure out why she was doing this to Charlie. She knew. The man bored her now. He didn't give her the all – out sex she wanted, needed. Charlie wasn't bad in bed. His prick was larger than most men's and he knew how to use it.
Her only gripe came in that he didn't use it like she wanted him to.
"Simple. A woman with your… charms," he said, glancing down into the canyon between her mountainous tits, "would stand out in a crowd." She basked in the man's attention. Her hand stroked over one of his mighty biceps as she asked, "What do you do? From the size of your arms, you must be an alligator wrestler."
"Nothing so thrilling," he said, laughing, then drinking the remnants of his highball. "I work for Mr. Steele." He said the name as if that explained everything. She had never heard of Mr. Steele and said so.
"Really? I thought everyone here would know him."
"Tanya, it's getting late," said Charlie irritably. "Let's go."
"So go, if you think it's late," she said brutally. "I think I'll stay and find out a bit more about my new friend…" She let her sentence drift away because she hadn't found out this scrumptious man's name yet.
"Marcus," he told her. "I work for Mr. Steele." He glanced up and locked eyes with Charlie. Charlie nervously shifted from foot to foot, then left without another word.
Tanya was impressed with Marcus' power. In more ways then one.
"He must be important, this Mr. Steele."
"About the most important man in the room," said Marcus, glancing around. "And I'm sure he would be willing to meet you. Even eager. He's always interested in beautiful women who are willing to take a chance."
"What makes you think I'd take a chance?"
"Then you're willing?"
"For the right man," she said. She moved closer to Marcus, her leg pressing into his crotch. The warmth from the man's body thrilled her and the promise given by the huge bulge between his legs told her she'd done the right thing in sending Charlie away. Let the man think she was a prick teaser. She'd show him! Would she ever show him if she could get him alone?
"Mr. Steele enjoys a poker game now and then, usually once a month, about this time. If you like, I'll try to get you into the game."
"Sure," she said, not caring in the least about any poker game. She played well, but was more interested in other things right now. She closed her eyes and tried to imagine Marcus' arms around her, crushing the life from her. Her nipples began to harden at the thought. She wanted them pressing into the man's broad chest, feeling the crinkly, sandy hair covering that expanse of man flesh. The woman wanted him to squeeze her until her bones snapped and her entire body protested.
"This way," he said, taking her elbow and guiding her along. She started to protest and pull away. Tanya found she couldn't. That light hold on her elbow effectively guided her into the next room where a green felt-covered table already had stacks of chips on it.
She swallowed hard. Three of the men were cut from the same cloth as Marcus. Huge, powerful, dominant men. The three women already seated were gorgeous. She self-consciously shrugged her shoulders to make her cleavage all the more daring. Pulling her shoulders back and shoving out her chest caused the hardened nipples to poke against the thin fabric and create tiny wrinkles. She was beautiful and knew it.
But the other women obviously knew they were seductively pretty, too, and made the best of that knowledge to play up to the fourth man at the table.
Tanya didn't have to be told he was Mr. Steele. The man's presence dominated the entire room. He sat quietly, his swarthy face calm, aloof, impassive. She wondered what thoughts raged behind those hawk-like eyes? They must be potent ones, she guessed, because she felt cold shivers go up and down her spine. This was a man used to commanding – and being obeyed.
This was a man she wanted to know better.
"Sit," he said, his voice calm and level. "And we shall begin." He glanced at Tanya and asked, "Has Marcus told you the rules?"
"Poker," she said, trying to be casual about it even though she was raging inside. "What more do I need to know?"
"We play for more than simple table stakes," said Mr. Steele patiently. She wondered if fire ever burned in those eyes, the fire of arousal, sexual arousal caused by a woman. She wanted to be the one to find out.
"I don't care."
"Good," he said. "I like that attitude. It shows you are in command of your own mind and body. Cut for deal."
The play went swiftly, expertly. Tanya had learned to play in a hard school and won fairly consistently, the chips piling in front of her. But Mr. Steele's game wasn't that of an amateur. He won, gradually and soon only the pair of them were left in the game.
"Get the others out of here," said Mr. Steele to Marcus. The burly man opened the door and ushered out the other women. The men at the table leaned back and watched the play continue between Tanya and Mr. Steele as if it were the most interesting spectator sport in the world.
Tanya couldn't figure out what was going through the men's minds. They eyed her almost exclusively, as if staring at Mr. Steele would cause them to turn into pillars of salt. Their continued study of her made her a little nervous. She felt the tension in the air – and it was a highly sexual tension she couldn't understand.
She began to lose. Gradually, a few chips at a time, then more and more. Soon, she was busted. "I guess that makes me the winner," said Mr. Steele.
"Not so fast," she said. "I've still got something to play with." She stood and skinned out of her cocktail dress. She rolled it into a ball and tossed it onto the table. "Another pot with that instead of chips."
"It's been a long time, Mr. Steele," started one of the watching men. "Why not go along with her?"
"I do like her spirit," the dark-visaged man conceded. "Very well, young lady. If you know what the end result is likely to be if you should lose everything."
"Would I really lose, if I lost all my clothes?" she asked coyly, trying to lock eyes with the mysterious Mr. Steele. The man sat with his face shrouded in the shadows. She saw a glimmer of light that might have meant his eyes twinkled.
"Deal."
She dealt. And lost. Marcus took her dress off the table and vanished with it. She wondered if she could recoup her loses. The man against her played conservatively. She could win with a bold move now. Both of her shoes were lost on the next hand.
"I still have enough to bet with," she said, standing and moving away from the table. She was clothed now only in her bra, panties, garter belt and stockings. She began to undo the garter belt when Mr. Steele's sharp, "No!" stopped her.
"Why not?" she asked.
"The bra – or forfeit everything."
She seductively undid the bra, bringing the cups off her voluptuous tits in a slow, teasing motion. She shivered as a blast of cool air from the air conditioner raked across her turgid nipples. She was still turned on by the brief encounter with Marcus. Or was it Marcus at all who turned her on now?
She had to admit the idea of fucking Mr. Steele stayed high in her mind. The other women weren't two-bit whores – nor were they thousand-dollar call girls. They were sexy, sensuous, sex-starved women who wanted what she now had a chance at. They couldn't be wrong. And everything Tanya had seen so far told her that they weren't wrong.
Mr. Steele was intensely desirable. That he insisted on having the other inch stare at her naked tits only turned her on more.
This was a man such as she'd never seen before. And she wanted him. She wanted him more than she'd ever wanted a man in her life. And she would get him!
She lost the bra to a full house. Her panties were lost, by a narrow margin. He had two pair, aces high. Her two pair had been sevens high. Clad only in her stockings and garter belt, she felt her pussy begin to churn in excitement at what she was wantonly going to suggest.
She knew she should leave right now. But she couldn't just walk away and pass up the opportunities she knew could, be hers.
"I'll offer a bit more than table stakes," she said. "I think you know what I mean." She licked her lips seductively and leaned forward just enough to let her tits dangle. The sight of ruddy figure eights traced out by her nipples as her tits bobbed around would have been enough to give any man a hard-on. She wouldn't have been surprised to see the table start to rise – from Mr. Steele's stiffening prick.
Nothing of the sort happened. And the man's voice was as calm as it had ever been. She felt a surge of desire for him unlike any she'd ever felt for a man. She knew he had to be hot for her body. And he hid it so well. That made it at the more important for her to get him into bed. She'd show him what real excitement was!
"Very well," he said.
They played – and she lost. She could hardly believe her bad luck. She had a fairly decent hand. Mr. Steele's was better. But she had made the sexual bet and now it was time to pay off.
She smirked. How could she have possibly lost? Either way she would have come out ahead, getting to fuck Mr. Steele!
"Where do you want to go, Mr. Steele?" she asked. "A bedroom handy?"
"My dear," he said in his maddeningly soft voice, "that part of the game was long over – and lost by you. When the others left and you were out of chips, I'd already won you. The rest of this was an added bonus for my friends, she is yours."
"Wait a Goddamn minute, mister," Tanya raged. "That's not the way it is at all. I was playing against you. And you and me will…"
She yelped when strong hands picked her up and turned her around. She sat heavily on the felt covered table, her legs dangling over the edge. The men were already lining up, pulling down their zippers and letting impossibly hard cocks leap from their trousers.
Tanya didn't want to be gang raped! This wasn't what she'd been playing poker to accomplish!
"Stop it this minute!" she cried. "Or I'll get the cops up here so fast your heads will spin."
"My dear, you don't understand," said Mr. Steele. "The first gentleman in line waiting to possess you sexually is the chief of police. It will do you no good to cry out. Marcus has already sent the others home. There are only those of us in this room. Now put out and don't try to welsh on a bet. I hate women who welsh on bets they've freely made." The coldness of his voice reminded Tanya of stainless steel. Sharp-edged, it made her shiver all over.
She glanced at the line of men waiting silently, lust all over their faces. She had fantasized about being raped – even gang raped – but a fantasy was something different from real life.
"Let me go!" she screamed, kicking and trying to get free. Marcus held her in an impossibly strong grip. There was no way she could elude him. And the chief of police smiled and entered the vee of her legs.
Tanya might have blacked out. She never knew. Her next memory was the swollen pecker of the cop moving faster and faster in her hot cunt. She was oozing out her lust juices and dribbling them to stain the felt-covered table top. And her legs were caught and held under the fucking man's arms. She was rolled onto her back, her legs spread obscenely wide. In no way could she prevent the man's prick from fucking hard and deep into her cunt.
"God, so tight, so fucking hot!" the man moaned aver and over. She blinked to clear her eyes and saw that the cop was lost in the throes of his own ecstasy. Her arousal didn't matter to him. This was rape, pure and simple – and she didn't like it at all.
She'd always dreamed about a moment like this where the man would brutally shove his prick balls deep up her cunt. Now that the moment had come, she found that she preferred more control over the act. She was helpless, totally lost and confused.
"Stop, please, don't do this to meeeeee!" she shrieked as she felt the white-hot jism spattering into her pussy. Her cunt walls convulsed and smashed down hard around the man's cock, further milking it of its creamy load.
Shuddering through a small orgasm, she hardly knew when the man released her legs to allow them to dangle limply over the edge of the table. But she did know when the next man in line came up to her and rammed forward.
His powerful thrust toward her cunt missed. The head of his cock went skittering along between her cuntlips. The thrill of that passage might have turned her on in other circumstances. Not now. All she could think of was that she was used, abused and would be discarded afterwards. She didn't think she had much of a chance at fucking Mr. Steele.
Mr. Steele!
The thought of the grim, dark man pounded into her brain. She tossed her head from side to side looking for him. A deep shadow at the side of the room seemed to move. It had to be him!
"Mr. Steele, please stop them. I… I'll do anything you want, but don't let these men gang rape me. Please, I'll suck you off, anything! But make them stop."
She might have heard a tiny chuckle. Or it might have been the signal for the man moving his prick up and down in the warm cradle of her cunt lips to really go for an all-out fucking. She didn't know or care. All that mattered to her was the sudden entry of the cock into her writhing cunt.
He rammed so fast into her that she didn't have time to stretch and accept the huge girth of his prick. She felt as if he ripped her apart inside. She simply knew she would bleed to death because of it. But nothing of the sort happened. Her resilient inner membranes expanded and took the full thickness of the man's huge cock. He grunted and gasped at the tightness but he was intent on really fucking her.
He ground his crotch into hers. She had been wanting Charlie to hurt her, to bruise her cunt lips with the force of his entry. She no longer wanted that. This man's body moved powerfully against hers. She was nothing to him. She was just a convenient hole to fuck his prick into.
"Continue fucking," came the level, cool voice from the shadows. "Build up speed slowly. I want to see everything."
The man obeyed Mr. Steele's orders perfectly, driving Tanya out of her mind. She loved the feel of his hard-fucking prick. It filled her and made her come alive in ways that Charlie's gentle fucking never had. She had wanted this – before she had it forced on her.
The man began with long, potent strokes that shook her all over. He gradually built-up the speed of his fucking until he used only short, quick motions that threatened to burn her insides. The friction from his rapid in-out fucking made her gasp and shudder all over. She couldn't deny that she was on the brink of climax. Just a little more and…
And nothing. The man shot his wad, moved quickly away and allowed the final man to move into the vet of her legs. He quickly ran one hand up and down the insides of her thighs. She trembled at his touch. There was something evil about this man.
"Don't do this to me!" she begged. "P-please don't!"
His hands clamped like steel bands on her tender flesh. He picked her up and turned her onto, her side. She squeezed her legs as closely together as possible and pulled her knees up to her tits. Tanya couldn't have known this was exactly the position the man wanted her in.
He moved quickly, hiss prick pressing between the meaty half-moons of her asscheeks. He drove forward, seeking out her humid gash. She shook when he found that hairy-rimmed opening to her body. And when he fucked hard into her cunt, she heard the gush of her frothy cunt juices leaking out around the prick. The impact of his legs against her softly curved ass made her come. She didn't want to but she did. The feelings ravaging her body were too intense for her to hold back any longer.
The man fucked with easy strokes, then jetted out his come. Heaving a deep sigh, he moved back and allowed her to rest on the table. Tanya cried softly to herself, hating her weakness and unable to do anything about it.
"Are you ready to leave now?" asked Mr. Steele.
"Yes, damn you. And I never want to see you again!"
"Oh, but you will, my dear. You lost at the poker game. The stake was your body for the next 30 days. For the next month, you are to be my sex slave."