17 comments/ 30763 views/ 11 favorites Strip Poker Set Up By: carvohi A Little Foreplay My name is Charles. My full given birth name is Charles Daniel Smith. Right away I know what you're thinking; anybody with a name as dull as that should be consigned to a life of mediocrity. Whoever heard of a Charles Smith, a Charlie, ever making it big at anything? I might as well have been named Mr. Nobody, Mr. Pastel Walls. And with a first name like Charles, Charlie, Chuck, Chuckie, one can be damned certain I wasn't going anywhere. The ladder of success, the stairway of upward mobility was never intended for people like me anyway; at least that's what I thought for a long time. For sure I was Charlie the Nice Guy, Good Old Chuck, Charlie the Chump, Good Ole Chumpy Chucky behind my back. And believe me, I had every name coming. I'd earned every damn one of them. I want you to believe it. I really did earn the name Charlie the Chump. At the office where I worked I was Mr. Helpful, Mr. Always Available to help somebody with 'their' project, 'their' ambitious new plan. Then when it came time for me to get my work done, well; you know the story. I was always late, tired, and never quite right. No matter what I did, it never quite measured up. What's the old slogan; nice guys finish last?" That was me every time, Mr. Nice Guy, Mr. Finishing Last. Now don't get me completely wrong. I did good work. I had good ideas. I was creative and talented. Hell, I was a Mensa caliber worker. That's right a card carrying, one hundred percent pure genius, but still an asshole all the same. I suppose by now you've figured out what I look like. Well you could be wrong there. Look, I'm no Russell Crowell, but I'm not Don Knotts either. I stand at just six feet, weight in at one hundred eighty pounds, and have a thirty-three, not thirty-four which is more typical, inch waist. I shave every day, no scruffy beard for this guy. I have dark blue eyes, sandy hair, a little unkempt, and no disfiguring scars or birthmarks. In fact I was pretty popular in high school and college. I had my share of girls. I'm not bragging; some of them were pretty girls. I guess it's partly the nature of my job; kind of a research type of thing. I scour the Internet looking for ideas, inventions, and inventors. I'm supposed to contact them, and find ways to help get them off the ground or into a better frame of research. Yeah, that's a big part of the problem. I'm paid to help other people. I'm so busy helping other people, I forget to help good ole you know who. Then there's the other thing. I like girls. I like them too much. I don't just mean the sex. By the way I'm a flaming heterosexual; could never see myself with another man. What I mean is, it's not just about the sex, I really just like girls. I like to look at them, talk to them, and I especially like to help them. It's that last part that's been the killer; at least it's been the big killer for me the last several months. You see there's this girl who started work here about eight months ago. She's no voluptuous babe, but she's certainly no wall flower either. She's what I'd call kind of the kittenish type. She's pretty, she's cute, she's personable, and she got my number, yeah she sized me up right away. Her name is Lauren Amber Railsbach, and to put it simple, she's a dish. There are maybe twelve other guys my age or a little older working in the company, not to mention an approximate equal number or so girls. Some of the guys are married, some aren't, but they're all interested in Lauren. She knows it too! Crap, I'm interested in her, been interested in her since day one. That's been my undoing! Let me explain. Lauren started work here just about eight months ago. She's got about the same academic credentials as me, just lacks the experience. She's smart, pretty, and personable, I know I already said that, and she's really inside my head. Since her first day her desk has been just a few paces away from mine. She's so pretty! She comes to work wearing these beautiful little outfits. They always set off her best features, and believe me; she's loaded with best features. She's sort of short; not quite five foot four, not thin but not plump either. She's no hard bodied athlete, but she's well put together. She has reddish hair, a little on the thin side, but it's so damn soft looking, all wispy. She has big green eyes, long lashes, a smidgen of freckles, the cutest damned ears, this pert little nose, and this great heart shaped mouth. Sometimes I pretend I'm deep in thought so I can sort of look through her but still look right at her too. I sit there at my desk; I fantasize about kissing those lips. Oh and did I say, she has dimples too. It drives me half mad to talk about her! Her shape is just right. Her breasts look a little on the smallish side, maybe 34B. But she wears these prim little button up blouses, and she has this way of sort of moving her arms in front so that she squeezes her breasts together. I don't know what kind of bras she wears, but her nipples stick out a lot. The other men in the office are always walking by her desk just to get a look. Shit, that's my problem. She's there all the time; I can't not look! I love the way she talks. Some women, young women, have these screechy voices. Not Lauren. Hers is soft, sweet, and melodic; like a lilting little love song, easy on the ears. I love it when she uses my name. I literally fall off my chair. She never says Charlie; it's always Charles. I could sit and listen to her talk all day long. In fact sometimes I do. Like I said, she's had my number since day one. Of course, somebody had to be on hand as a kind of mentor, someone to show her the ropes as it were. Our boss, the big cheese, picked me. When she first came he said, "Charlie, this is Lauren. She's new here. We have high hopes for her. Show her the ropes." And that's exactly what I did. I was Mr. helpful, Mr. considerate, and Mr. Go the extra mile from the first day, and brother did she thank me. How did she thank me? She kept doing all this smiling, and eye blinking, and doing shit with her pencils and pens. Some women have a way with writing implements, the way they fiddle with them I mean. If you ever watch, really watch, they can take a pencil, put it to their lips, twirl it around a little in their mouths, and put their tongues on the erasers in ways that can keep a man awake at night thinking about it. Remember my desk is only a few paces away. I see everything; the curve of her legs, the twist of the ankle, the way she bends her wrists, puts a cup of coffee to those luscious lips, the way she cocks her head when she's thinking, even the way she puts a handkerchief to her nose and wipes it. I wish sometimes I was that handkerchief so I could be near that beautiful little turned up nose. She wears these pretty little blouses with these little skirt things. They're miniskirts, but never so short as to be indecent. But for me, I see her sitting down. It's like she never just sits at her desk. She always seems to have a leg just off a little. It's like I get a little show; a hint of thigh, a glimpse of calf, a peak at knee. Some guys would say she's flirting, but I know better. This is all natural, and I love it. I really love it! We better stop just a second. You might be getting the wrong idea. I'm no voyeur. I'm not spending my whole day just staring at her. I'm a perfectly healthy, normal man. I'm no pervert, but she's so damned pretty, so perky, and so bubbly! What can I do? I've taken out quite a few of the girls in the office, and I've had a few semi-steady girlfriends over the last two or three years. I think girls like me. They act like they do. I've never been turned down for a date. In fact I think a couple of the girls here would like to take things to a higher level. Maybe I will someday, but I'm not quite ready just yet; not with any of them. I think I could go for Lauren though. Honestly, I haven't asked Lauren out or anything. We've had lunch in the lunchroom several times, and twice we've gone out to the deli across the street. But I haven't asked her out. I'd like to take her out. I just don't think the time is quite right yet; maybe soon, but not quite yet. Besides what if she's the first; the first to turn me down I mean. Like I said, I've never been told no I don't want to go out with you, and honestly, from a lot of girls, being told no wouldn't be a big deal. But it would be awful if Lauren told me no. I'd be crushed; like totally blown away. Anyway, after what happened last, week I probably shouldn't ask her out. In fact, after last week, I know I'll never ask her out. I hope I'm not boring you too much. This really is going someplace, and the title of the story really does come into play pretty soon. What happened last week was absolutely devastating. I told you the boss had high hopes for Lauren. I did, and do, too. I want everybody to succeed. Well as it happened there was a new job opening coming up. It was going to be a promotion for somebody, and in spite of everything, I've been considered the high man on the totem pole. I was told that's what turned out to be the problem. Well Lauren and I were both on the interview list. She was glad just to be on it. I expected to be on it. I expected the job to be mine. To make a long story short Lauren was real insecure about the interview so I helped her out. I gave her some tips, some pointers, and some ideas. Well you guessed it. I set myself up. I'm not a scruff, but I'm not a tie guy either. I keep clean and neat and I wear good regular clothing. OK sometimes I wear jeans and a T-shirt, but mostly I'm pretty professional. Of course, you know Lauren is always pretty, pretty in a young looking way, the way that makes guys want to be helpful. Came the day of the interview I completely forgot to get dressed up. I was clean and neat, but not all Mr. Madison Avenue if you know what I mean. Lauren got me! The day of the interview she showed up in a beautiful dark blue business suit, a slack outfit, dark shoes too with low spiked heels, and a great button up blouse; she looked adorable. I remember it. She left three buttons open at the top, just enough to give everybody a thrill, but not so much as to be over the top. She looked great, the consummate professional. I looked; well I looked like I always look. Worse, she had her interview ahead of mine. You know what happened. She had ideas to share, my ideas, and my thoughts. Now I don't think for a minute she did anything deliberately to beat me out. I mean she didn't deliberately plan to rip me off, but that's exactly what happened. A couple days after the interviews were over I got called like everybody else. The boss explained Lauren got the job because she had better ideas, she looked like a supervisor, and, here's the killer, they needed a woman in the slot. She got my job! I'm not sore. Sure she got my job. She got my pay raise, my extra vacation time, and she got the window office, while I'm still stuck in the hallway. Beyond that nothing's really changed. They brought in a man to take her desk. Now she's way down the hall in a private room so I never see her like I used to, but you know what? She keeps coming down to see me. She comes down and takes a seat and talks to me. I really miss her, but I wish she wouldn't keep coming back. I keep thinking she really likes me. Most of the guys tell me I'm stupid. They say she only comes down to pick my brains. That's OK though. I've already interviewed with another company, our biggest competitor. I'm gone in two weeks! I'll miss the place, and I'm going to miss Lauren, but you know how it is; a man's got to do what a man's got to do. Now let's get to the story. Oops! Not yet! The story will have to wait until you've heard my side. My name is Lauren Amber Railsbach, and I got hired at this 'think tank' a few months back. From what you've been told you might think I'm some kind of sexy babe, or some flirt, or worse some money grubbing bitch out get somebody else's job. None of that's true. The fact is I got lucky. I got a job at a great company right out of college. They put me with this guy who was supposed to help me get started. His name was; can you believe it, Charlie Smith. He was anything but a Charlie Smith. Charles, I call him Charles, is one of the most handsome men I've ever met. Not only that; he's kind, helpful, gentlemanly, and he's got a great personality, I mean a real dreamboat. I think he has this protective streak when it comes to women. It didn't take long, and I was in deep like, and after a couple of months I was in love. Scratch that; not was, am in love. I mean real love, as in maybe getting him to marry me! I'll tell you, he's all I think about. I used to go home at night and plan what I was going to wear the next day hoping he'd notice. I tried every girl trick you could think of; squeezing my tits together, slipping him some thigh, those quirky little come on smiles men like so much. I know where he lives, what his phone number is, what his favorite restaurants are, and I even how he likes playing computer games on the Internet. I got that information by hacking into his PC. Now would I hack into a guy's PC if I didn't like him? And don't tell me I hacked in to get at his ideas; he was always telling me that stuff. Hell, I didn't understand half of it anyway. Now I'm not stupid. I'm pretty smart, as smart as he is, but I'm not very smart in some ways. I did everything I could to get him to pay attention to me. I don't mean being nice at work. I wanted a date; I wanted him to take me out. I wanted people to see me with him. I tell you he's a catch! He's the kind of guy girls like to be seen with! I'd like to be seen with him; like all the time! I'm sure you know most guys are egomaniacs. They dress up, act out, and play macho games. Not Charles, he's cool. He doesn't tell smutty jokes. He doesn't make like every girl's in love with him, and he never brags. He ogles a little bit, but I wanted him to do that. At work he dressed nice, but he never went overboard. He's casual and cool. I especially like it when he dresses down. He's no muscle man, but he's got good biceps, and real shoulders. I mean he probably works out a little, but I doubt if he's what you'd call the gym guy type. Who'd really want one of them anyway? They're more into themselves than anybody else. I want a guy who's into me. I wish Charles was more into me. He probably has some weights he fiddles with at home, and maybe he jogs a little. Tell the truth he does jogs, and he jogs slow, and at night. How do I know about the jogging and the restaurants and stuff like that. OK, I'm not a stalker, but I really like this guy. I've been trying to figure out ways to like accidentally run into him someplace, but I have the damnedest luck. I'm always just a step behind. That's how I know he jogs at night and jogs slow. I bet he jogs after dark because he is a slow poke, and, well everyone has their pride. No one sees how slow he goes in the dark. There's something about that I really like. I mean he's proud, but he's quiet about it. There's a lot about Charles I like, I mean really like. He's quiet, hardworking, considerate, and so sweet. He has this low modulated voice. It has a calming, warming, affect, on me. Sometimes when I'm home alone in front of the television I fantasize that I'm all curled up with him beside me; we're relaxing, kissing, and cuddling. Does that sound like some self aggrandizing bitch to you? Let me clear something up about Charles. He's not one of those strong silent types. God, I dated one of them once; strong and silent means dull and boring. Charles is interesting. He talks about things I find interesting. I like listening to him, and guess what? He listens to me. Try to find a guy who will listen! I mean really listen; like if you ask, he'll answer because he was really paying attention. That's a good way to describe Charles. He's the kind of man a girl could cuddle with. And not be afraid he'd try to take advantage. Look, tell the truth, if he took me out, I'd want him to take advantage of me. Let's be clear. I'm not a virgin, but I never slept around. Two guys, count em, two, in twenty-three years, and both were mistakes. The next guy is going to be the right guy. Charles looks like the right guy. That's part of what pisses me off about him. I know he's dated other girls in the office. Girls talk you know. They all say the same things about him; gentleman, sweet, good date, and never pushy. He could have any girl he wanted. He could have me! He's never even asked me out! Why not? I'm not Natalie Portman, but I'm no Joan Rivers either. I know I look nice. For craps sake I've bought out the stores trying to find something I thought would get him to make an offer. Let's back up a little. I'm sorry about the damn job, the damn promotion. I wanted the interview, not the job. Even after I got the job I told the boss I didn't want it. I told him where all my ideas came from. I told him Charles was the brain. It should have been Charles's job not mine, the boss said there were other considerations. I knew what that meant. I mean I do want equal pay, and equal respect, but I wanted the better person to get this job. The better person was Charles. He shouldn't have picked me just because I'm a woman. Look Charles is cute, handsome, muscular, lithe, a really wonderful human being, and I want him! I tried to get him by playing fair. Now I'm not only going to get him; I'm going to keep him! He says he's leaving the company; that's what he thinks! I won't allow it! What do they say; all's fair in love and war. Well sweet cakes, sometimes a girl's got to do what a girl's got to do. So now let's get back to the real story. Hold on a second! You're not ready to hear any story, not yet! My name is Gerald Flynn. My wife and I, my wife's name is Tiffany, started this company from scratch. We worked our tails off to get things going. One thing we found out early on was good companies, successful companies, are only as good as the people they hire. Tiffany and I got our hands on Charlie Smith early. He's the best! We love him. He works hard, has great ideas, helps others, and knows how to get the best out of other people without pissing them off. You don't believe me; look at what he did with Lauren. She was a raw callow kid out of college, and in just a few months he turned her into a magnificent professional. We love Charlie, and we love Lauren too! We made a mistake! We thought we could kill two birds with one stone, and not hurt anybody. Our company is a lot bigger than it used to be. We're big enough now that we have to pay attention to certain Federal guidelines; guidelines about who to hire and who to have in the workplace. Well we're a little light on women supervisors. Tiffany and I thought Lauren would be a good fit. We completely overlooked our clean up hitter. We missed the bus on this one. Now how do we keep Lauren, and keep Charlie too? Charlie is unhappy. He wants to leave. We need him. We want him. He's one of the key players in the company. Now for sure, everybody is like a finger in a glass of water. Take out the finger and it's like they were never there. It's not that. It's that we want Charlie's finger in our glass of water. We can't lose him, and we want to keep Lauren too. Tiffany and I aren't stupid. We had to come up with a way to get this right. That's how we happened on the idea for a party. We talked to Lauren about it, and got her on board. We knew it was a stupid idea, but it's the kind of stupid idea that works with extra smart people. The Party: Charles read the invitation. It said, "You are cordially invited to a special party at the Flynn's. A Special surprise awaits those who come, r.s.v.p. requested." He thought about it. At first he was absolutely against going, but Tiffany had personally asked him to come, and Gerald had personally brought the invitation around. He said it was important that I be there. Strip Poker Set Up Charles discreetly scouted around and found out the only people who'd been invited were supervisors. Altogether, not including him, a lowly peon, that meant a total of eight other people; one of whom was Lauren. Charles thought it over. Sure he'd go to the party. It would be like a going away. He'd see all his old friends, friends who'd started out like him, but who'd, one at a time, been promoted. He'd say his goodbyes, make sure Lauren knew there were no hard feelings, and then move on with his life, out of town, out of the company, and away from her. It did sadden him a little. These were all people he'd known for the last five years. He'd miss them, but then again, a man's got to do what a man's got to do. He agreed to go. The day of the party Gerald stopped by Charles's desk and reminded him abut the event, not to be late, and to be sure to wear a shirt and tie. Charles asked why he should get dressed up. Gerald didn't give a reason, only that he ought to do it, say for old time's sake. Charles agreed he'd even wear a sport jacket. Gerald said even better; just make sure it was a white shirt. It all sounded a little fuzzy but Charles went along. That evening after work he got dressed. He put on a shirt and tie, a nice pair of slacks, some loafers, a jacket, and he even put on socks. He got to the Flynn's right on time, 7:00. When Charles got there everybody else was already on hand. There were four women counting Lauren and Tiffany, and five other men including himself and Gerald. For the first forty minutes or so everyone just sort of mingled. Every person there made a special point of stopping by to see him, and express their regrets about his leaving. Charles thought everyone looked good. It was only supposed to be a card party followed by a special screening of a newly released movie down in Gerald's and Tiffany's new film room. The Flynn's had just bought their house. It was a large one, and had all the amenities. There was a separate room for cards and the like, a private den, indoor putting green and driving range, massive living room, huge kitchen, and downstairs, as was already mentioned, a sumptuous screening room. Gerald was especially proud of the movie room, as he called it. It had a beautiful ninety inch high definition screen, and spaced around and in front there were a dozen over-sized lazy boys. The seats, Charles noticed, were ideal if someone wanted to scooch down with a special person and make whoopee. Someday he vowed he'd have a room with a double lazy boy like one of these. He'd get down and get it on with someone he loved. It made him a little melancholy. It would have been nice to cuddle up with Lauren, but that wasn't ever going to happen, not now. Charles noticed Lauren was especially lovely this evening. She had on a little suit set; a dark blue bolero that fit comfortably over a gorgeous white blouse, a matching dark blue pleated miniskirt, dark stockings, terrific dark blue high heeled shoes, and a really pretty little necklace with what looked like ankh on it. Her make up was impeccable, hair in a loose pony tail with a few errant fronds that wafted around her sweet face. She had on small gold hooped earrings, clear nail polish, and a discreet little dark blue ribbon tied off in the back of that scrumptious red hair. He wished he'd asked her out at least once. Too bad, that's all gone now. Screwed he thought; he'd really blown it! After a drink or two Gerald suggested they all travel over to the card room where they could get into some serious card playing. It was an interesting arrangement for a card room. Several love-seats and sofas, and one or two rich looking chairs were all in a circle around the center of the floor. Charles thought they'd be at a card table. Well, it wasn't his house, and it wasn't his party. Charles plopped down on a big soft chair. Lauren sat almost directly opposite him in the only other big single chair. He thought about how hard it was going to be to sit across from her all night; her with that wonderful warm smile. He'd have to sit here like some wooden Indian; trying not to feel all the regret building up inside him. It didn't help that she smiled directly at him so sweetly, and the way she sort of let one leg sit under her ass so that it allowed her skirt to slide up a little more than he was comfortable with. She was so gosh darn pretty. This was going to be torture. They started playing cards. At first everyone thought it would be cool to play a little three decked rummy, but pretty soon that got tiresome. Charles felt like the party wasn't going anywhere. That was too bad too; he wanted to have a good time. He wanted to enjoy being with his friends, and especially with Lauren. This might be the last chance he'd ever get to see or talk to her. Someone made an interesting suggestion. It was Harry, always a playful fellow. He suggested they make the game a little interesting; a little more daring is what he said. He suggested they try a little strip poker. To Charles's surprise, everyone agreed, even Lauren. They had to get the rules straight first though. Gerald brought in a big cardboard box. He said it was his house, he'd make the rules. Here's what he said. First he said if you're in, you're in for the duration. Nobody backs out, no matter how much they're losing. Second, since this was a mixed party there was always chance of gender difficulties. He made everybody promise there would be no sexual harassment issues in the office on Monday. To Charles's surprise everybody agreed. The third rule Gerald laid out was in how to decide who lost clothes. He said every hand would have a winner. The winner of the hand would select someone else in the group, and that person would give up an article of clothing. He said he trusted there would be no ganging up. Everybody agreed to that method of stripping down, and everyone agreed there would be no ganging up. His next rule was once an article of clothing was lost it was dropped in the cardboard box. There would be no 'winning back' or 'trading off' already won clothes. Everybody agreed to that as well. His fifth rule was really intriguing. He said once someone got down really low, other people could play rescue. Say one person was almost naked, and somebody else had extra to spare they could offer something of their own. But he said the recipient would have a special obligation to the giver, a special obligation that could be worked out later. Gerald said, things could be worked out later with other stuff he just happened to have on hand. It made for something of a mystery, but everyone was still on board. One last rule, since there were so many people it was agreed to use two decks; if there was a tie in a hand owing to so many cards the winner was the one who had lost the fewer items of apparel. Everybody was on board, and they started top play. The first few hands were pretty stale; boring one might even say. Gerald won first and claimed his wife's earrings. Gerald insisted earrings, shoes, socks, and such counted only as one item, a pair of shoes was one lost item. That meant the clothes would be coming off a little faster. The second round went to Harry who made Janice give up her shoes. Third round went to Janice who took Harry's shoes. For a little while things went round and round like that. Charles lost his shoes and his socks pretty early. He noticed nobody was going after anything Lauren had on. He was glad of it. That changed though when Harry claimed Lauren's earrings. Then on the very next hand Tiffany wanted Lauren's shoes. Nothing came of the next few hands as the clothing losses were pretty evenly distributed. Charles did lose his tie. Then there was another tough round for Lauren. She had to give up her stockings, and then Harry, who was a jerk, claimed her bolero. Then Gerald went after Lauren's bra. That was the first real under item that went. Charles chastened Gerald softly, claiming it was not fair to go after Lauren three times in a row. Then to Charles's surprise Tiffany won again and demanded Lauren's panties. Charles watched as Lauren had to lean and twist to get her panties off. He could tell she was embarrassed. He was embarrassed for her. It wasn't fair. Two or three more rounds went by. Charles lost his sport coat. Gerald lost his shirt. Tiffany had to give up her bra, and the other woman had to surrender her panties. Then Tiffany came back after Charles, and demanded his pants. He gave them up, and everybody to see he was wearing plaid boxer shorts. He watched as Lauren giggled at his underpants. He laughed too. Things seemed to be going along pretty good. Charles didn't feel too bad knowing two of the women had lost panties. He didn't want Lauren to out there alone. Then they hit her again. Gerald won a good hand and insisted Lauren give something up. All she had was her necklace, a hair ribbon, and her skirt and blouse. Gerald was a gentleman and agreed to take the ribbon. The very next hand Gerald won again and demanded Laruen's necklace. Charles watched as she slipped it from around her neck. She was down to two items, her blouse and her miniskirt. He started thinking about the rescue rule. A couple more hands went by and nothing big happened, then Tiffany, the rat, did it again, she won and insisted Lauren get completely naked underneath her miniskirt. Lauren looked at Tiffany with big eyes, "I don't have anything on under my skirt. You know that." Tiffany said, "Wait a minute." She disappeared briefly but came back with a plastic lunch bag, a razor, a bar of soap, and some shaving cream. She said, "I bet if you went into the bathroom you could fill this bag with something." Lauren looked at her, "You want me to shave my thing?" Tiffany didn't crack a smile or anything, "I want you clean and neat down below, nothing but skin." We have to hear Charles tell it for a while. I jumped in, "I have a T-shirt. I'm claiming a rescue." Harry held up a hand, "No wait. Can we claim a rescue if nobody's actually showing any skin?" The others said all said, "No, a rescue could only happen if it prevented nudity. A shaved pussy under a skirt wasn't nudity." I interrupted, "That's not fair." Lauren interrupted me, "No that's OK Charles. I'll do it." Lauren got up, obtained the razor, cream, the baggie, and soap from Tiffany, "Be back in a minute, you guys go on without me." Harry answered, "No we'll wait. For the next ten minutes or so everybody sort of sat around in their chairs, sofas and loveseats waiting for Lauren. Lauren finally came back in, lookiing a little forlorn, holding a plastic bag. Everyone could see it was filled with some reddish brown curly hair. Lauren said, "Here you go." She dropped the bag in the cardboard box. Harry got crude, "Well now we know she's a natural red head." I said, "Shut up Harry. Don't be such a jerk." Everybody else laughed. Before Lauren could sit down Tiffany stopped her, "How do we know you got it all?" Lauren looked like she'd been slapped, "I got it all." Tiffany responded, "Prove it." I stood up, "if she has to show us her vagina to prove it that would mean nudity. I claim rescue." Harry said, "Wait a minute; how about if she just showed Tiffany?" Everyone agreed. Lauren had to walk over and lift her skirt for Tiffany. Lauren walked over and lifted her skirt. On her way across she gave me a look as if to say, don't say anything. I felt so bad. I knew she wasn't my girl, but I felt like she was. I thought I should stand up for her. But I didn't. Tiffany made a big show of looking around very carefully. She moved Lauren's skirt around a little, lifting here, smoothing it around there, "She's clean. Just as clean as a five year old girl." There were some malicious chuckles as everyone watched Lauren blush. I didn't chuckle. I was mad. I'd known all these people for years. I never saw them this way before. It made me sick. Lauren went back over and sat down in her chair, head downcast, and what looked like a tear dripping from one of her pretty green eyes. I wanted to get up, cross over, and console her, but like the fool that I was I just sat there. Two more hands went by. Harry lost his T-shirt. Gerald lost his pants. Everyone laughed when they saw his jockeys. Then Tiffany won another pot. She looked around the group, and then back over at Lauren, "Lauren I want your blouse." This was the last straw. I yelled, "Rescue." Tiffany held up a hand, "I want a special ruling. Charles is down to his underpants and his white shirt. If he gives up either, he'd be showing nudity. I don't think that's fair." It was true I had lost several rounds, and was down to just two things, but it was different for a man to give up a shirt than for a woman to give up a blouse. I said so, "Look here. I don't mind giving up a shirt. Heck. Men show their chests all the time. It's different for a woman." Harry, mean hateful jerk that he was held his hand up, "I have a problem with that. You only have your shirt and your pants. If you give up your shirt, what happens if someone claims your plants on the next round? You'll be naked. I don't think you can give up your next to the last thing." Everyone chimed in "Here here. No shirt for a blouse." I was incredulous! What was wrong with these people? Tiffany looked at Lauren, "OK sweetie, let's have it." Lauren was crushed. Everyone could see she was on the verge of tears, "OK," she said. She got up, and slowly unbuttoned that beautiful white blouse. Slowly it slipped from her shoulders. There she stood, her hands covering those two beautiful delicate little breasts I had fantasized about for many months. At first she kept her eyes focused on the rug. Then she slowly looked up at me.Oh those big soft pleading green eyes. I felt awful, simply awful. I'd wanted to see her breasts for months. But not like this, not this way, not as a result of some humiliating game. Still, there she was, hands covering two pearly little orbs. I could tell, as could everyone else, they were nearly perfect, perfect pear shaped bouncy little boobs. I wondered what her nipples and aureoles looked like. I felt guilty as hell thinking about it. But I didn't have to wait long. Tiffany almost shouted, "Hands away from the tits!" Lauren jumped back. She dropped her hands to her sides. There was a momentary gasp from everyone in the room. No one had seen such perfection. They were indeed two perfectly shaped pearly little cones, and her aureole were an adorable pink. Her nipples were just as perfect; small and erect. I was getting an erection in spite of myself. I wanted to yank my shirt off and cover her up, but didn't dare. Always the fool; I still didn't want to ruin the game. Harry looked at Lauren, "Well Lauren it looks like you're just about out of chips." Everybody laughed. I didn't laugh, and poor Lauren just stood there, head in her hand. She was sniffling. I felt like a real heel. The very next hand was the back breaker. Harry won, and he called out Lauren. Nobody said anything. I said, "Let me give her my shirt." Gerald, the host, and tormentor extraordinaire had something else in mind, "I have something else in mind. I thought we might be doing something like this tonight, so I bought some extra stuff at the novelty shop today." He reached behind his chair and pulled out a small box, "Lauren you've already lost your necklace. How about another? He opened the box and pulled out a collar, a rather large stainless steel collar. I saw the front of the collar had an O-ring attached, and dangling from the O-ring there looked to be two feet of thick stainless steel chain. I started to feel nauseous. He looked at her smiling, "What do you say?" Lauren looked at the collar and at the chain. She looked around the room. There was no sympathy, no empathy anywhere, only me. She looked at me, "Charles, will you put it on me?" Gerald cheered, "Hurrah! Our hero gets to come to the rescue after all!" I looked at Lauren, "Sure." I got up to walk over to put it on. Lauren got up too, "No. I'll come over to you." Lauren walked over and knelt down in front of me. Gerald handed me the collar. While Lauren knelt in front of me I checked out the collar and the chain. The collar was kind of large, maybe two inches in width, and a quarter inch thick. There were no locks or places for locks, but I saw how it was to be fixed. The collar was hinged affair, but with interstices at the open ends. I took the collar. While Lauren lifted her beautiful red hair I wrapped the collar around her neck and closed it. Accompanying the collar was a metal bolt, two inches long, and the same length as the thickness of the collar. I took my fingers and tightened the bolt through the interstices. In that way the collar was hinged in two places; where the original hinge was and now where the bolt was tightened in. I finished the tightening and quietly leaned down and whispered into Lauren's ear, "Why don't you just stay here with me." Tiffany yelled over, "You better stay with him. If you don't, somebody might grab your leash and claim you for themselves. She looked up. Her eyes were welling up with tears. She looked so desolate, "OK," was all she said. I wanted to kiss her and hug her so much. She needed someone. Tiffany announced proudly, "Look the hero has become her protector." I took the loose end of the chain and wrapped it in my hand. I felt like a piece of shit doing it, but was determined no one else was getting her. One of the others, an outsider really, commented, "Charles is protecting the woman who stole his job." I looked over, "Shut up. Just shut up." Everyone sort of chuckled. The game went on. I noticed over the next two rounds people left Lauren alone. I also noticed none of the other women had lost anything to speak of. If I hadn't known better I would have believed everyone was out to get just Lauren. That was despicable if it was true. Two rounds of cards after Lauren was collared Harry won again. He looked at Gerald. He looked over at Lauren, "We have anything else for Lauren?" Gerald laughed, "We sure do?" I inwardly died. Not again. I had to say something, "This is what, some kind of vendetta?" Gerald hushed me, "Oh shut up. It's only a game." He looked at Lauren with a kind of sinister smile, "Tell Charles it's only a game." Lauren looked at me. Eyes dripping with tears, "It's only a game." I knew then and there it wasn't, but I didn't quite know how to stop it. Sure I was out of the company, but Lauren still worked there. I vowed to myself, once this was over I'd get her something at my new company. Gerald reached around and pulled out a shopping bag, "I just knew it would be a woman who'd be the big loser tonight. So I got something just for that." He opened the shopping bag and pulled out what looked like a dress. He held it up in his clenched fist, and waved it around, "This is a special dress; a slave toga. Lauren, how about it?" Lauren looked at the dress, "I'm not putting it on in front of everybody." She looked up at me. I guess I had become her hero, "Charles will you put it on me?" I was mortified, for her, and for myself too. I wanted to do so much more, "OK, I'll put it on you. Everybody else turn your heads." To my surprise everybody agreed to look away, even Tiffany. Lauren stood up while I slipped the slave toga over her head. It fit perfectly; like it was made for her. I thought, that bastard Gerald, he planned to humiliate this poor girl. I slipped the toga over her head, and tied it off in the back with the pink ribbon that was affixed to the waist. The dress was very small, the material almost criminally thin. Threadlike spaghetti straps held the too low and too small top up. I could clearly see her pretty little breasts through the almost transparent material. Strip Poker Set Up The hem at the bottom came just barely below her crotch. If she didn't have her miniskirt on, I was sure I'd be able to see her vagina. I looked at her. God she was beautiful, absolutely flawless. Why in the hell hadn't I asked her out when I had the chance? I looked at her in the little toga; the way her sweet little breasts showed through the translucent material. Her pert little boobs seemed to frolic and bounce under the material. Her sweet pink aureoles looked delectable; I wished I couldve kissed them. I asked her, "You OK?" Lauren answered, "I'm OK." She sat back down. She still had her mini-dress on. As everyone turned around Gerald huffed, "We need the mini." "What?" I answered Gerald sighed, "She got a dress. She loses the mini." I answered angrily, "That's not fair!" Lauren put her hand on mine, "That's OK." I'll take it off." She stood up, back to everybody else and took off her miniskirt. I sat there and stared at her naked pussy. Holy shit! She's absolutely perfect, and completely naked underneath that tiny toga. Lauren squatted back down without letting anyone else see what I had seen. Harry looked around, "Well, we're almost done aren't we?" Tiffany scoffed, "Hardly! You still have clothes!" Harry giggled. One more round went by uneventfully, then it kicked in again. Gerald won. He looked squarely at Lauren, "Ready?" I looked at Gerald. I was really pissed! "What the fuck! Gerald she's out of clothes, in a slave toga, and she's wearing a collar and chain. What more is there?" Gerald reached around and pulled out another small cardboard box, "Just guess." I watched as Gerald opened the box and pulled out what had to be a pair of handcuffs, "Oh no,' I said in disgust. Gerald laughed, "Oh yes!" He tossed the cuffs over to me. I looked at them. They weren't really handcuffs in the traditional sense. These were manacles, more in the old fashioned cruder sense. They were of the same material and same construction as the collar. Two hinged cuffs with intersticed ends and bolts. Lauren dutifully held up her hands. I placed each of her small wrists in an arc, closed the arcs, and tightened in the bolts. The two manacles were connected by one link of shiny metal chain. Her hands were tightly chained together. I looked over at Gerald, "Got anything more over there?" Gerald smiled, "Just something for the ankles." I looked at Lauren. I looked back at Gerald. This, I knew, was a done deal, "Throw them over." Gerald reached in the back, pulled out another small box, got out the ankle manacles and tossed them over. I looked down at Lauren sympathetically, "Want to just get it over with?" She nodded, sat back on her ass, and held up her feet. I affixed the ankle manacles to her precious feet. There were six metal links connecting these two shackles, just enough to allow her to hobble along if she needed to move. Gerald looked around at everyone, "Well that's done; anybody for more cards?" Most everyone shook their heads no. It was clearly a conspiracy to me now. Everyone had nodded in the negative; the card game was over. Tiffany looked up, "What do you say we all go downstairs and watch a movie?" Everybody started to get up. Some had been sitting the whole time and needed to stretch. Most hadn't been to the bathroom, and that seemed to be an important destination. I looked at Lauren. She was kneeling on the floor; hands linked together, feet cuffed the same way, and dressed in a translucent slave's toga, "Want me to help you downstairs?" Lauren held up her arms, "Carry me." She stood up very straight. I discreetly looked her over. The hem of the toga came just barely below her pussy. From behind it just reached the bottom of her ass cheeks. The thin spaghetti straps were so long the only thing really holding the top up was the perkiness of her bosoms, and they certainly were perky. Every tiny movement she made caused them to bounce or wiggle. I was hard as a rock! Those little rosebuds staring up at me from under that transparent top were crying out to be nibbled on! I leaned around and lifted her up like one would a baby. She was very light. When I got her up against my chest she leaned against me almost possessively, or at least I wanted to think so. She kept her hands close together and right under my chin. In fact she took her fingertips and started to gently rub my neck and cheeks. I wanted to cry out! Why had I been so stupid all these months? Her legs were well up, curled tightly. She was almost in a fetal position. She looked up at me, "May I sit with you?" I held her tight, "Of course." I carried her downstairs and found a double lazy boy back near the rear of the movie room. I set her down, "They have sodas and drinks and stuff. Would you like anything?" She looked at me from her reclining position on her side of the big lazy boy, "No just you." That comment made me feel ten feet tall. I sat down and reclined back beside her. It took a while for all the other guests to meander down to the movie room, so Lauren and I had a few moments of privacy. I told her, "I'm sorry they did this to you." She took her manacled hands, swung them up around my head, and pulled me down. She whispered in my ear, "That's OK." Then she kissed me on the side of my face. I was all flushed and nervous. I was starting to sweat; something I seldom did, especially not around women. Her lips touching my face gave me a rush of adrenalin. I wondered if Bill Gates knew what it was like to be this rich. We were still sitting up. I held her tight and kissed those red ruby lips. She responded warmly. Gerald was down a few minutes later. He announced he had a good movie for all of us to watch. It was a love story, very touching he told everyone. He put the disk in the machine. Turned off the lights and reclined backward next to his wife, Tiffany. The movie came on and there was absolute quiet in the room. I lay beside Lauren and tried to watch the movie. It was impossible. All I could think about was the beautiful young woman in chains lying beside me. Wait a minute! Let me clear something up. It wasn't about the chains; well maybe it was a little bit. But it was about her; me with her. I felt real bad abut the way everybody had treated her upstairs, but I felt good that it was me who was with her now. Lauren interrupts Charles. Stop it right there! Now it's my turn. You've been listening to Charles long enough. Now you can listen to me. Gerald, his wife Tiffany, and I had talked this over several days ago. Between the three of us we got everybody else to go along. Gerald admitted he'd made a mistake about promoting me over Charles, but he still wanted me keep the job. We had to come up with something. Sometime months ago I had fallen in love with Charles. I knew he had a fondness for me too. There was no way I was letting him out of my life; not without a fight. The whole strip poker things had been my idea. Charles is a special kind of guy. He's very protective. Ok, so I'm a manipulative little so and so, but it worked! I should get an academy award for my performance during the card game. Still, I figured he'd be slow. That's where the movie comes in. I'd been waiting all night to get to the movie. I lay there waiting. I'd been waiting for the movie all night. I snuggled over as close as I could. I kept wondering; he can't be this backward. Charles put his arm around me and started fiddling with my hair. I had really cleaned, shampooed and powdered up before going out tonight. I must have washed my hair four times, and perfumed it twice. I worked hard to get my hair and body just the way I wanted it. I know I smelled good, but I was careful. I wanted him to wonder if it was perfume or just my natural aroma. Whatever, I wanted him to love it. I think he liked it. I pressed in closer. Charles took his hands and started to caress the side of my face. I reciprocated by leaning up and kissing him. He has this manly smell. I think he uses something like Old Spice. I like that. Some men use those sweet smelly colognes. He uses a man's skin cream I don't know what it is, but I love it on him. Anyway, once I started kissing him that turned out to be all the prompting he needed. He turned around and wrapped his arms around me. He used his right hand to cup left side of my face, while he took his left hand to reach down rub my stomach. He doesn't have real big hands, but they're manly hands; not soft, but not real calloused either. His palms are warm and dry, not slick and wet. His fingers, well let's say he knows where to put them. I got over on my back to give him better access to my body. It wasn't easy moving around, what with a collar, a length of chain, and hand and ankle cuffs, but I managed it. He took advantage of it too. Pretty soon he had a thumb on my mons, and two fingers inside my vagina. He started rubbing inside my vaginal walls with his fingers while his thumb pressed down on my pubis. Honestly, I'm know I'm kind of small down there, and I was afraid he'd go for broke right away. But I could sense that he was a man's man. He sure knew what buttons to push. He kept pushing his two fingers inside and up in my puss. No man has ever put his fingers inside me before. I can't explain what it felt like; except I can say I may never wear panties again, not when he's with me. Now I know some of you are thinking; my goodness she's fast, what a whore! But it wasn't like that at all. I'd been thinking and dreaming about Charles for eight months. If I seemed to be in a hurry, well I was. Look I'm a good girl, I come from a good home, but I knew what I wanted. Well anyway, I kept squirming and wiggling. Believe me it was all involuntary. I read something about a G-spot. I think he found mine. He was really arousing me. He kept up the rubbing and the pressure, and I kept squirming and wiggling. I kissed him long and hard. He kissed me right back. I told him to ask Gerald if he had an Allen wrench. Charles called down to Gerald, "Gerald do you have an Allen wrench?" Everyone in the darkened room quietly laughed and chuckled. Gerald asked, "What do you need an Allen wrench for?" Charles told him, "Lauren's uncomfortable." Gerald slipped back and handed Charles the tool he requested. He whispered, "Try to be quiet back here. Everybody else is watching the movie." Charles took the wrench and unbolted the shackles around my ankles. But when I held up my hands he wouldn't do it. He told me he wanted to leave them alone. I smiled at him. I knew what that was about. Heck I had a slave girl toga on. If he wanted to fantasize that I was his slave that was OK. To tell the truth, with him, it's all right. We lay there, side by side for a while. He was real firm when he rubbed the inner walls of my pussy. Like I said, he knows what fingers are for. He kept using his fingers inside, while he had his thumb on the top of my labia, right where my clitoris is. He kept using the palm of his hand to push down on my pubic mound. It was like a triple play; fingers inside, thumb on my clit, and his palm on my mons. Talk about excitement! He kept my hands confined in the shackles, but I was still able to find his thing. Honestly, I never touched one before so I didn't know what to do. I read about it in books so I started to rub up and down. It worked! First it got a lot bigger, and I could tell it was driving him crazy by the way he kept moving around. . He kept kissing me on the mouth, and my ears, and all around my neck. It felt good, but mostly it tickled. He kept using his hand on my pussy. You have no idea how good that can feel. I kept using my fingers to slip up and down his penis. It was really big! It scared me, because I knew he'd want to put it inside me. Finally I could tell he had reached the limit of his control. He rolled over on top of me. The lazy boy lay out completely flat, just like a bed, highly unusual. He slipped his manhood inside me. The first thing I realized was how tight I was. I wonder if he'd ever been with a woman as small as me. It hurt, but I could tell he was trying to be gentle. I bet by then he knew I hadn't been with very many men. I was squirming and writhing like crazy; partly from the pain, but partly from the excitement too. I never thought anything that could hurt so much could feel so good too. I still had my hands locked together so I put them over his head, and wrapped them around his neck. I tried to pull him down closer. I think he was concentrating on his thing in my puss, but I kept having these feelings all over my body. Sure I felt him inside. It felt good, but still mostly hurt. It was the other stuff, his face close to mine, his hands on me, his breath, which was good, and the weight of his body. I can't explain it. I know I was having an orgasm, but it was an all over thing, and more a spiritual thing than something physical. I felt like we were really bonding. I kept having these love feelings. They weren't physical. I can't explain them, except that I didn't want them to end. It finally occurred to me I'd been fantasizing about this off and on for months, and had been planning on it all night. He was big inside me sure. But he was so warm, his skin I mean, and he was heavy, and it felt good, but in a bigger way then just sex. He was giving me something, not his thing; he was giving me his soul; by taking me he was asking me to accept him. I was wearing the manacles, but I felt like he was the one being chained. I was overcoming him even while he was pushing inside me. I don't know. Does that make any sense? God I know I felt great! I could tell after about five minutes of pushing and pulling he was going to have to pull out or else risk getting me pregnant. He started to pull out. I had to stop him. I used my cuffed hands and wrapped them around his back and pulled him back down. I remember whispering, "I don't care. I'd like to have your baby." Actually I did care. I've read where some men will hit and run, while others feel like they need to stay and care for the person they knock up. I had Charles figured out a long time ago. He was a care giver and a provider. If he thought he got me pregnant he'd never leave. I know that sounds like I was being manipulative. Well I was. But I wanted him! I had to have him, and keep him all the time, all for myself. Look, the strip game hooked him. The movie reeled him in. I knew he was mine, mine for keeps! Well he exploded inside me, and I cried out! I cried out not because it felt good; I cried out because at the moment I knew I had him. He was mine, really totally, completely, irrevocably, absolutely mine! I knew at that moment I wanted to give him kids too. Go figure. Do all women feel that way? For another two or three minutes we tried to prolong what had been happening, but we had to give up. He couldn't stay hard forever. So we gave up and just held each other. I think the holding part afterward was even better than the sex. I could have stayed there all night, heck, all week. Then he got stupid. He whispered he hoped nobody noticed. I wanted everybody to notice! I wanted to jump up and perform a victory dance! Come on! When you've found the mother lode you let everybody know. He looked up. The room was completely empty. Everybody had gone. He whispered to me, "Everybody's gone." I used my manacled hands to pull him completely back against me again. I told him, "I know, that's how we planned it." He sat up, and he said, "You're kidding." I pulled him back down, "I'm your girlfriend now. You can marry me if you want." He kissed me, "Not a bad idea," he said, "But I'll be working for another company in another city." I held him tighter. I told him, "No, you have to stay with this company." He whispered back, "You know I really do love you. He was getting hard again, but I have a question." "What's that?" I said. "Was this evening all planned?" I kissed him on the neck, Get back inside me. I resigned my supervisor's job today, and about tonight, of course it was planned." I squeezed him around the neck with the manacles, "It was all my idea. I've got you now Charles." He kissed me on my lips. Then he said, "I'll be damned. I'm hungry." He pushed my hand away and crawled down to get his mouth down by my pussy. He took his mouth and started sucking on the top of my vagina. Crap I thought. This is new! This was as good as the other thing! He glanced up and told me, "You need to be punished. I may stay down here all night." I giggled, "Oh please master; please do me all night, every night, from now on." Then I added, "You can spank me if you want." He willingly obliged. He got back up, pulled me over his knee and walloped me good. He used the palm of his hand and slapped my ass cheeks four or five times each. It hurt! It felt great! Every slap was just another proof he was mine, all mine, every bit of him! There was an aftermath of course. It's still me Lauren. So you wonder how things worked out! Well I'll tell you. Gerald called Charles into his office on Monday. I got to keep my supervisor's job. They made a new job for Charles. He's vice-president in charge of all operations. Charles is not only my boss, except for Gerald, he's everybody's boss, even Tiffany. Tiffany is pregnant anyway, and has decided to stay home. Charles gets to help everybody all the time now. About a week after the party he moved in with me. We're looking at houses. Gerald let us keep the bondage equipment. We haven't used it, but it's there of we want to. We drive to work together, eat lunch together and go home together every day. I had a spare room in my apartment so we put his PC in there. He likes to surf, and I want him to have everything he wants. He touches me all the time, and I touch him too. I love it. I mentioned something about putting his thing in my mouth the other day. He said I could if I wanted to try it, but I shouldn't feel obligated. That ticked me off a little. I wasn't feeling obligated. I was thinking how he might like it. I mean I could kiss it, maybe lick around it, and put the whole thing in my mouth too. I figure, that's where babies come from isn't it? Oh I know we'll have our ups and downs, and I don't mean sex. People do fight, and they argue, but I remember something my grandmother said to me once. If you fight, never go to bed mad. Make love first. He bought me a ring. You guessed it. I'm so happy. So OK, I'm a manipulative bitch. I trapped him. So what I got my way; but you know what else, he loves every minute of it. Got to go gargle; yeah, he shot his load in my mouth. So now I'm a swallower, and guess what. It's good to the last drop. Sometimes a girl's got to do what a girl's got to do. Epilogue: Ok, it's me Charles again. It's my story. I started it, remember? Get this straight. I am one lucky son of a bitch. So I got tricked, so what! I've got my very own angel. I've got to go. She's waiting in the car. I am so happy. The end Some notes from Carvohi: 1.Tell if you liked this story. Would you like a sequel? I came to like Charles and Lauren, and this could go in so many directions. 2.I wrote another story titled A Fool Falls in Love. A lot of people got upset, said it ended too fast. I'm writing a sequel to that.