The Perfect Setup

Post time3-02-2021, 03:40

A young husband decides to seek revenge on a bitch of a wife who is about to divorce him. With the help of an old con artist-card sharp, he creates the perfect setup to con her into a divorce on his terms. But there is always a joker in the deck and things don’t turn out exactly as he had planned.

This story goes into a LOT of detail about a game of five-card stud, jokers wild. If you aren’t into card games, it might be confusing– or boring– for you. If so, you might want to skip this one.

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WARNING! All of my writing is intended for adults over the age of 18 ONLY. Stories may contain strong or even extreme sexual content. All people and events depicted are fictional and any resemblance to persons living or dead is purely coincidental. Actions, situations, and responses are fictional ONLY and should not be attempted in real life.

If you are under the age or 18 or do not understand the difference between fantasy and reality or if you reside in any state, province, nation, or tribal territory that prohibits the reading of acts depicted in these stories, please stop reading immediately and move to somewhere that exists in the twenty-first century.

Archiving and reposting of this story is permitted, but only if acknowledgment of copyright and statement of limitation of use is included with the article. This story is copyright (c) 2014 by The Technician.

Individual readers may archive and/or print single copies of this story for personal, non-commercial use. Production of multiple copies of this story on paper, disk, or other fixed format is expressly forbidden.

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I didn’t do it because she had been a perfect 10 bitch for the past two years. I didn’t do it because she refused to have sex with me after I lost my job as a stock broker. It wasn’t even because I found out that she had filed divorce papers. Ultimately, it was because of that damned “Christmas Club.”

I met Charlie a year after I graduated from college. I was a brand new stock broker on my way up and she was a junior lawyer with a big law firm downtown. I’m not sure what brought us together. Looking back on it, I think for both of us it was a career decision. She needed a husband to fit in at her office and I needed a wife to take with me to the various company events and functions. I mean, the sex was good– No! The sex was great. But I’m not sure that either Charlie or I could ever really say that we loved each other.

I know that’s not the best basis for a marriage, but there are a lot of couples out there who married for even worse reasons. And the first four or five years that Charlie and I were married were pretty good.

Her name is actually Charlotte, but everyone calls her “Charlie”– everyone that is except for the poor bastards she grinds to powder in the courtroom. They just call her “That Bitch.”

Did I mention that her specialty is divorce and that she has the reputation of taking everything but a man’s balls in almost every case? Having seen what is left of some of the men whose ex-wives had her for a divorce attorney, I’m not sure she didn’t get the balls, too, as part the settlement.

Charlie told me about the “Christmas Club” the first year we were dating. She and three of her sorority sisters always spent the week after Christmas at some resort or spa together. She told me that they had been doing that since they were pledges together and that it was “sacrosanct.”

Unlike a lot of the strange legal words Charlie often used, I didn’t have to look that up. It was pretty clear that sacrosanct meant “don’t fuck with this.” So every year on the day after Christmas, she and Donna and Barbara and Doctor Sapperstein would go off somewhere for their “Christmas Club” getaway. I never knew where they went or whether it was the same place each year. I also never knew who Donna and Barb were or what they did for a living. I knew who Doctor Lari Sapperstein was, however, because she was a local plastic surgeon and I saw her name and face on billboards throughout the area.

Charlie would never tell me where they were going or what they did while they were there. Her only comment when I once asked was, “We definitely are not chasing men for the week, so you don’t have to worry.”

I think the Christmas Club was the only real down side to our relationship until Wall Street fell apart. When the market tanked unexpectedly, our firm took some really big losses. Several of our major clients were virtually wiped out. Business fell off dramatically and the brokers like me with only a few years of seniority were the first to go. Actually, when the manure hit the ventilator in our office, there were many others with less seniority than me, but I was the one who got the axe.

One day my boss called me into his office and said, “There have been some papers filed that cast doubt on some of our firms decisions– decisions you were responsible for. I know you didn’t do anything illegal, but we might have to defend ourselves in court and it would be better for the firm if this could be handled without your presence.”

I knew that I couldn’t have been the primary decision maker on any of those things, whatever they were, because I didn’t have the seniority or power to make that sort of decision. Regardless, I was going to be the scapegoat, taking the hit for the team. I possibly could have proven my innocence if they would have told me who had filed complaints or exactly what legal actions had been taken. But they wouldn’t talk to me.

They evidently talked to all their buddies, though, and told them I was responsible for whatever it was that had happened, because even after things began to improve, no one would so much as give me an interview. I asked Charlie to look into it for me. She used some of her contacts, but all she reported back to me was, “You must have really screwed up badly with somebody big.” That is all she ever told me. Then she kicked me out of bed.

I tried to find other work, but stock brokers are not the best liked people in good times. When people have lost their shirts recently, they don’t want to hire or work with one those “greedy bastards” who caused all their problems. Soon, my only friends were Dave the bartender and Maury, a local barfly who for some reason decided to befriend me.

Actually it was Maury who gave me the idea. He was a card sharp and was always doing bar bet card tricks. I think he made his living running a couple of poker games here and there, but you don’t ask that kind of thing at the bar. One day he got my attention when he began talking about what he called “the perfect setup.”

“The problem with most people,” Maury began, “is that they think that the perfect setup in a card game is to have the perfect hand.”

He sipped his beer and continued, “That won’t get you squat! What good is the perfect hand if everybody folds against you? The perfect setup is when you have the perfect hand and the other person also thinks that they have the perfect hand. That’s when you take their gazuubahs.”

I had no idea what the hell a “gazuubah” was, but I got the idea. Maury also showed me how to win “pin money” with a little low-level cheating. “You don’t have to win all the time to win at poker,” he would say. “You only have to win more than the other guy, and to do that you only have to control two of the cards.”

Maury’s big game was 5-card-stud with jokers wild. “That’s the game to play,” he said. “Everybody thinks it’s almost impossible to cheat at, but it’s one of the easiest to fix. And here is all you need.”

He held up a small spray can and said. “This spray makes a card extra slick. You can’t tell it by feel, but even in a new deck, if you tap the deck sideways just a little as you pick it up, it will almost always split at that card.”

He set the spray on the bar and said, “Fifty bucks.” He took another sip of his beer as I got out my billfold. Then he added, “The other thing you’ll need to make it work on a regular basis is a sealing machine. You can get those at most places that sell to retail stores.”

He smiled. “Most people trust a new deck. There’s nothing that pulls a sucker in like pealing the cellophane off what they think is a factory deck. Even more so if it’s a box of decks. Two wrappers are no more difficult to seal than one.”

“Here’s what you do,” he continued, handing me the can of slick spray. “You slick the jokers on their face side. Then when you tap the deck there’s always a joker on the bottom of the portion you are holding as you deal. A simple bottom deal and you have a joker in the hole. That’s enough of an edge to win a couple of big hands each night.”

“But what if you want to really clean someone out?” I asked.

“Then you’re talking about doing a setup,” he answered. “For that, you prepackage your winning hands and use a false shuffle and reverse cut.”

It must have been obvious from my facial expression that he had totally lost me because he took another sip of beer and explained, “They are both pretty easy to learn and hard to catch. Basically you shuffle the cards together, but then pull them back apart each time. It looks like you are shuffling the hell out of them, but nothing moves. Then when you let someone cut, you flip the cut back over as you pick up the deck, or you use a joker slicker that you had put on the bottom to pop the deck back to original. Either way, it’s just a little slight of hand and you have the top portion rather than the bottom when you deal.”

“What if you want to go for the perfect setup?” I asked. “The one where you [really [ clean someone out?”

“Ah, the perfect setup,” he said between sips of beer. “That takes a lot of time and even more planning.”

He turned to me and was suddenly very serious. “You have to have everything in place weeks– months– or even years– in advance while you wait for the perfect time to strike. Everything has to be in place just like you want it before you make your move.”

He chuckled slightly, “The icing on the cake when you make your move is to set it up so that they are absolutely sure you can’t possibly be cheating.”

“How can I do that?”

“It’s really simple to do,” he said taking a deck of cards out of his pocket and shuffling them. “When everything is set and ready to go, I will take the deck back after the cut but then rather than dealing, I hand it back or I cut the deck again - at the slick - and then hand it back. I say something like, ‘I’m feeling really lucky. You deal so we all know that I’m not pulling something.’ The sucker never thinks about the fact that it doesn’t make any difference who deals the cards if I have them all set up.” He downed the rest of his beer, smiled and continued, “Works every time.”

He sighed and finished with, “Ah, there’s nothing I like better than really fucking over a sucker. You know, really giving it to them right in the ass.”

Suddenly, I could see myself really giving it to Charlie “right in the ass.” A plan began to form in my head. If I could somehow get her into a card game, her highly competitive nature would lead her into my trap. Somehow I would get her to bet everything, and I mean everything, and then I would have her right where I wanted her. Her hyper-legal mind wouldn’t let her go back on her bet. I could walk away from this sham of a marriage with some assets and maybe even a final revenge on her ass. The problem was how to set it up.



Good plans take preparation. Great plans take preparation and luck. My luck came only a few weeks later in the form of a Christmas blizzard. In order to explain the poker chips, cards, and poker paraphernalia that arrived at the house, I had told Charlie that I was going to be hosting a big poker game at the club for some friends while she was gone. She immediately told me, “You’ll just lose your ass, like always.”

I said, “I’m the host. The house always wins, didn’t you know?”

Her response was to roll her eyes at me as she left the room.

Christmas Day she made some phone calls and then said to me, “Looks like you’re going to be late for your poker game tomorrow. With this weather, I’m going to need you to take me up to the cabin in your four-wheel drive.”

I started to protest, but she cut me off and said, “Just tell you friends that things will start late.”

Since I didn’t really have a poker game set up, it didn’t make any difference, but it sort of pissed me off until I realized that this might be the opportunity for the perfect setup. I wasn’t sure where this cabin was, but I knew that the weather was going to get worse and if I could get “trapped at the cabin,” I might convince the girls to play some poker and then I would have three witnesses to my victory over Charlie. I might even get some revenge on the Christmas girls while I was at it.

I told Charlie I would have to make some phone calls and then I would be in the basement getting everything ready since I wouldn’t have time otherwise. What I actually did was prepare about a dozen or so slicker decks and three different setup decks. I only planned to need one deck, but just in case I had backups.

After I re-wrapped the decks with commercial shrink wrap packaging, I marked them with price tags using a pricing gun I had purchased just for that purpose. Nobody pays any attention to a price sticker, but the numbers above the price on the sticker told me exactly which deck was which. The setup decks were for 3, 4, or 5 players and there were four in each set.

Actually, I planned to sit with Charlie to my left so it didn’t matter how many were playing as long as I used the right deck. It was the perfect setup. When the time came, I would have her or one of the other girls deal. I would get the perfect hand, she would get the almost perfect hand, and everyone else would get good hands that were actually squat compared to Charlie’s and mine. And when it was all over, I would come out the big winner with at least a divorce on [my [ terms.

We left for the cabin about noon on the day after Christmas. I made sure to grumble a little every so often about how I was going to miss my poker game with the guys and that she wasn’t the only one who needed a little away time. After a couple of hours, she told me to shut up and drive.

We drove more or less in silence after that. Eventually, we started to get into some mountain roads and she consulted a map and some written directions until we finally pulled onto a narrow, snow-covered, dirt road that wound its way up the back side of one really large hill. The GPS just showed us going out across wilderness with no roads indicated.

“Are you sure this is the right road?” I asked. “I would hate to get stuck out here in this weather and it’s starting to get dark.”

She assured me it was alright and we continued on a couple of miles until she told me to pull over into a parking area at the base of some wooden steps. “Get the bags,” she ordered as she stepped out of the car. Since she only had one bag, I assumed she meant for me to also get my bag and I grabbed her suitcase and my duffle. The steps took us up the hillside to a small, but very nice, mountain cabin.

“Hopefully the girls won’t have any problem getting in,” she said as she began to remove covers from furniture and turn up lights and heat. “Go out to the shed and get some wood for the fire,” she ordered, pointing toward a door on the side of the cabin. Then she added, “There’s an outside door to the wood bin next to the chimney. Make sure it’s full before you come back in.”

Normally I would have been really pissed about the way she was ordering me around, but now was not the time to start a big argument, so I went outside to the small woodshed. I found it was stacked nearly full of firewood. It took four or five trips back and forth to fill the bin next to the fireplace. When I came back into the cabin, the girls were just coming in the door.

“Donna, Barb, Lari,” Charlie began, “this is my husband, Steve. He drove me up here and is just leaving now that he has brought us in enough wood.”

“But they’ve closed the road,” replied Lari. “We had to drive around the barricade to get up here. I wouldn’t have done it if I didn’t have chains on the Jeep. They won’t plow that road until the storm is over. I am afraid Steve is stuck here with us until then.”

“Shit, now I will have to cancel my poker game,” I grumbled and walked into the kitchen with my cell phone in my hand. After a few moments, I yelled back into the other room, “There’s no cell phone service out here, is there?”

Lari responded rather icily, “No, Steve, it’s just us girls and you alone in the wilderness.”

I was glad I was alone in the kitchen. They couldn’t see the big smile that I couldn’t keep from spreading across my face. After I composed myself, I came back into the main room and said, “I guess I will just have to try to stay out of your way as much as possible. Is there a lower area on this cabin?”

Charlie answered me, “The lower area is mostly unfinished, and what is finished is for special use, so you will be staying up here with us for the time being. There are three bedrooms. You’ll have one of them. Barb and I will have one and Lari and Donna will have the third.”

It suddenly struck me that she had pronounced “Lari” as Larry. Although I had seen the name in writing, I had never heard the name pronounced and assumed that it was “Lah-ree” - sort of like “Lori.” The thought flashed through my mind that Charlie and Barb and Lari and Donna sounded like a two married couples away for the weekend with a mutual single friend, Steve.

That rest of that evening and night was chick heaven and man hell. They were sitting around the kitchen table gossiping and catching up on each other’s lives. There was no TV signal because of the heavy snow, and the only DVDs were strictly chick-flick movies which I knew that we were going to watch before the night was up. We did– two of them.

The girls were sitting around in flimsy nighties that didn’t do much to hide their bodies. They evidently also didn’t do much to help them keep warm either, because they kept asking me to put another log on the fire. Barb said, “We didn’t know we were going to be having male guests or we would have brought something a little more flannel.” I went to bed very frustrated, but full of hope that I could put my plan into effect soon.

The next day it snowed all day and the girls decided to stay inside. Charlie said something about wasting all that good ski time, but Lari said that they would just have to find something to pass the time until the weather cleared. I had my opening. “Well, ladies I do have all my stuff for a poker party down in the car. If you pretty ladies want to learn a thing or two about a real game of chance, we could play some five card stud.”

I expected Charlie to object or tell me that I was being stupid, but instead she looked over at Lari and said, “Why not? We could teach Steve here a thing or two about how to play.”

I had her I had them. All I had to do was to keep my excitement contained and carefully work the plan. Too much enthusiasm and I would scare them off. I had to keep to the plan exactly. I needed to make them– especially Charlie– want to win and think that they could win. I forced myself to casually walk down the steps to the car and not run the whole distance there and back.

When I returned carrying a big, plastic tub, Donna had set up a six-sided card table and some chairs. “These were in the closet,” she said. When I commented that they looked almost new, she added, “Must be. They weren’t there last year when we used the cabin.”

I set down the tub and said, “A poker party in a box,” as I took out cards, chips, several bottles of bourbon, and some bags of snacks. “Do you girls know how to play five card stud?” I asked, as I arranged things on a small table near the fireplace.

“Oh, we played a little back in college, so I think we can manage,” replied Lari.

“So, five card stud with jokers wild it is.” I hoped my poker face hid the excitement I could feel. This was going to work. I was about to spring the perfect setup and Charlie was going to get what she deserved.



I managed to convince Charlie to sit to my left just as I had planned. It didn’t make any difference where Donna, Barb, and Lari sat because they would be getting basically shit hands anyway when I sprung the setup.

I had $500 stashed away in the tub with the poker chips and suggested that to keep things fair we all “bought in” at $500 with no additional buy-ins. I didn’t know how much money Charlie might have on her, but for the plan to work, she needed to run out of chips and have to start betting some “extras.” I thought I would have to do some wheedling and convincing, but surprisingly Donna said, “That sounds good to me. Will you take a check? I don’t have that much cash on me.” Then she added, “Of course, I will probably be redeeming that check when I cash in my winnings.”

I thought to myself, “If you only knew.”

I started out with a standard deck to be sure that none of them noticed anything strange before they had a few shots of bourbon under their belts. I set up the bar on the counter near the card table and cheerfully explained, “It would be a waste to let this good bourbon go to waste. Do you have any mixers?”

Donna said there was Coke and Seven Up in the basement refrigerator and disappeared down the stairs. She came back a few moments later with cans of Pepsi and Sierra Mist with the comment, “I guess this will have to do.”

I mixed everyone a good stiff drink in a tall glass. Lari and Charlie wanted bourbon and Pepsi. Donna, Barb, and I stuck with the Sierra Mist as a mixer. I made sure that Charlie’s glass had as much bourbon as I could get away with. At the same time, I cut mine way back and added a little of the Pepsi to get the proper color. As far as any of the girls could tell, I was drinking a bourbon and Seven-up– well, actually Sierra Mist– heavy on the bourbon.

The first game was pretty mild. I was explaining the rules of five card stud. Three cards were dealt face up and two were dealt face down. There were bets placed after each card. I added that “House Rules” were that even if you folded, the rest of your hand was dealt out so that you would know what you would have had if you had stayed in the game. That wasn’t technically how it was supposed to be, but you can do almost anything under house rules and I didn’t want anyone folding on me and screwing up the deal when everything was ready for the big setup.

I was using a standard deck and planned to hold back on the slider jokers until later in the evening unless I needed them. After everyone was settled in and comfortably blitzed, I would use the sliders to take some big hands and slowly work Charlie into the corner where she would have to start making the kind of bets I wanted when I finally put the setup deck into play.

All four of the girls were amazingly bad at poker. They showed everything on their faces and it was pretty obvious when they had a good hand. It was equally obvious when they had a bad hand or were just bluffing. I was winning even without any of the crooked decks, and I was tempted to clean them all out, but there was much more at stake here so I very carefully stuck to the plan. I even folded and lost a couple of hands that I knew I could win just to keep them all in the game.

Donna kept refilling her drink and was playing very badly even before the liquor began to hit her. A little after midnight, she was pretty well schnockered and down to her last couple of chips. I could see by the way her face lit up on the third card that she thought she had a really great hand. Lari also had that “I have a great hand” look and I had squat, so I decided to fold and just stay out of the way.

Donna was sitting to my right and after I folded she wasn’t quite so careful with her hole cards. She had been the first to bet because her first card was an Ace. By the time the deal was finished, she had two aces and a jack face up and, as I could now see, two jacks in the hole - a jack high full house. Lari had two queens and a three face up and probably a queen or a joker or both in the hole from the way she was betting. Donna put the rest of her chips in the pot. Lari raised her $50. Donna asked, “What do I do now?”

I answered, “Since you can’t match her bet, you lose.”

“What if I buy more chips?” she asked.

Lari answered, “No more buy-ins. Remember? The chips on the table are all the chips that there are.”

“What if I buy some off of you?”

Lari laughed, “You might get a stranger to accept one of your rubber checks, but I know you, Donna. It’s cash in advance.”

“But I don’t have any cash,” whined Donna. “Charlie, will you loan me $50.00?”

Charlie took a big swig of her drink. By my count I had refilled her glass seven times, and she was showing the effects of that much booze. “Tell you what, Donna,” she slurred. “I’ll give you a pawn shop loan. You give me the collateral and I give you the money.”

“But I don’t have anything with me except the clothes on my back,” Donna bleated. That wasn’t exactly true. She had carried a rather big suitcase into the cabin when she arrived. Who knows how many clothes she actually had with her. Her simpering whining was starting to get to me, but I said nothing.

“Deal!” shouted Charlie. “You give me all your clothes as collateral, and I mean ALL your clothes everything you have with you. In return, I loan you whatever you need to match Lari’s bet.”

“Everything?” replied a suddenly sober-sounding Donna.

“Right down to those cheap plastic earrings,” answered Charlie.

To say that I was surprised is a great understatement. I was sitting there with my mouth hanging open.

“Can I keep my shoes?” whimpered Donna. “The floor is cold.”

“Deal,” answered Charlie, and to my amazement Donna stood up and began to strip off the clothes she had put on when they were planning to go out skiing. When she was down to her underwear, Charlie snapped her fingers several times and said, “Everything is everything.”

Tears formed on Donna’s face as she slipped out of her bra and panties and then sat back down at the table and said in a somewhat shaky voice, “I call.”

Lari shook her head and said, “Donna, Donna, Donna. Won’t you ever learn?” Then she turned over a Queen and a Three. “Queen High Full House beats your Jack High, and I know that’s what you have because Barb had an Ace and a Joker showing when she folded, Charlie had an Ace showing, and card sharp over here– referring to me– had a Joker on top. So the most you can have in the hole is two Jacks for a Jack High Full House.

Donna started crying as she turned over her two jacks and Lari swept the pot into the pile in front of her.

“Now what?” simpered Donna.

“I guess you’re naked for the rest of the week,” answered Charlie, “unless you can come up with some way to win back your clothing.”

“But I don’t have any chips to bet with and nothing else to pawn. I am as naked as a newborn baby.” She started to cry softly.

“No, you aren’t,” answered Lari. “But I tell you what. If you make yourself as naked as a newborn baby, I will give you $100 in chips.

“What do you mean?” asked Donna, her eyes wide and questioning.

“Duh!” came a rather drunken and slurred response from the other side of the table. Barbara continued, “Think, Dumbo! What do you have that a baby doesn’t have? other than tits?” She started laughing and added, “Actually, I have seen some toddlers with bigger boobs that you have.”

Donna just stared, not understanding until Charlie spoke. “Body hair Dumbo. Lari is offering you $100 if you take it all off. And I think she means ALL of it, don’t you, Lari?”

“My razor is in the shower in the bedroom,” whispered Donna, standing up next to her chair, but keeping her eyes looking at the floor.

“Oh no!,” answered Lari. “If I’m paying a C-note for your peach fuzz, I am going to watch it come off. You are taking it all off right out here. And I don’t want just that little patch between your legs. I want everything except the hair on your head and your eyebrows.” After a soft chuckle she added, “for now.”

Donna softly answered, “OK.”

“As a matter of fact,” Lari looked over at me, “Frat boy over here is going to make sure that this is done right. He should be good with a razor. You would like that, wouldn’t you frat boy?”

“Uh, I guess so,” I stammered out.

“Good, then you won’t mind reimbursing me half the hundred as an entertainment tax.”

She reached over and took $50 worth of chips off of my stack. Then she slapped Donna on the ass and ordered, “Go get your razors no, we will need more than just the one you brought. There is a package of razors and a can of menthol shaving cream in the linen closet. The last renters must have left them. Bring those out.”

A few minutes later, Donna reappeared carrying a plastic package of eight or so razors and three cans of shaving cream.

“It won’t take that much, Dumbo,” mocked Barbara, but Lari cut her off with a curt, “Then we will have them ready for when you run out of chips, won’t we?”

Then she said to me, “Come on frat boy. I can already see how much you’re enjoying this. Lather her up and make her as smooth as a baby’s ass.”

Lari then turned to Barbara and said quite sternly. “Go get one of the big towels so we don’t get shaving cream all over the floor And a couple of smaller towels so loser here can wipe herself clean after frat boy removes all the hair.”

This wasn’t at all in the plan and it really made me wonder what normally went on when the Christmas Girls got together each year. But it wasn’t going to interfere with my plans so I decided to just accept it as a perk of the weekend.

There was no doubt that I was enjoying this. My prick threatened to tear a hole in the front of my jeans as I slathered the shaving cream all over Donna’s body. I thought that she moaned slightly when my hand passed between her legs, but her eyes snapped wide open when Lari barked out, “Spread ‘em, honey, so frat boy can get that razor in there where it matters.”

She then stood with her legs wide apart and her arms held straight out from her body. She looked like a frosted cake made in that DaVinci man shape that shows up in educational TV shows. I started at the top and slowly worked my way all the way down to her ankles. Then I had her bend over and put her hands of the floor so I could get the crevices of her ass and the back of her slit. I wiped the remaining lather off of her body, slid my hand down her front and announced, “Smoother than a baby’s ass.”

“I ought to charge you an extra twenty-five for copping a feel there at the end,” said Lari, “but you did a good job, so I won’t.” Then she slapped Donna’s ass really hard and said, “Sit down and deal. Maybe your luck will change.”



After losing everything, including her clothing and her body hair, Donna’s luck did begin to change. Or, at least she began to lose a little more slowly. The pile of chips in front of her was definitely still going down, but it was still at least $80.

Barbara, however, wasn’t quite so lucky. At the end of each hand she would exclaim, “Shit!” and then take a big swallow of her drink. Lari refilled her drink several times, and I could tell from the amount of bourbon that was disappearing that Lari was making sure that Barbara was getting even drunker than Donna.

I was winning a few and losing a few. My pile of chips was growing, but not all that fast. If Lari wanted to play games with Barbara, it would just get her out of the way so that I could make my move with only Charlie, Lari, and I in the game later on.

Lari was dealing when Barbara hit bottom. Again, it started with an Ace showing on the first card. Barb bet the minimum and we all called. It was the same on the first hole card. Then Barb got another Ace and her face lit up like it was her first Christmas. “I bet twenty dollars,” she said in a chirpy, but slurred voice.

Lari had that crooked smile that indicated that she also thought she had a good hand. She had a jack and an ace showing, so I had no idea what she thought was so good about her hand. I decided to fold and watch the fun. Charlie and Donna also folded before it got around to Lari. “I match and raise you ten,” she said.

Donna put the additional ten in the pot. Lari dealt out the fourth cards, which were the second hole cards. Since Lari had the last bet, she was first. “Thirty-seven dollars,” she announced along with that deep chuckle that showed she was really enjoying herself.

Barb almost immediately said, “Call,” and then her face went white. Thirty-seven dollars left her with one chip. She looked up at Lari, who stared back at her and said, “Maybe we can work something out.”

Lari dealt out the fifth and final card. It was a six for Barbara and another jack for Lari. Barb was practically beaming. I was pretty sure that one of Barbara’s hole cards was an ace, which meant she had three aces. Lori, on the other hand could at best have one jack in the hole for three jacks.

I expected her to fold, but she didn’t. “Fifty-one dollars,” she said with a smirk and shoved a stack of chips into the middle.

Barbara swallowed hard and said, “Call.”

“With what?” came a voice from the other side of the table. Donna then added, “Dumbo!”

“Same deal you gave Donna?” Barbara asked, looking at Lari as she stood up.

“Same deal,” answered Lari. “Just throw the clothes you have on in the pile. Either you get them back at the end of the hand or I do.” Lari then slid another stack of chips into the pot.

Barbara quickly slipped off her blouse and jeans and threw them onto the table. She was wearing a bra, but there were no panties. “I keep the shoes, right?” she asked.

“Yes,” replied Lari, “but the ankle socks go in the pile.”

After she put her shoes back on, Barbara sat down.

“Now what?” she asked.

“You show me yours and I show you mine,” answered Lari, almost giggling.

Donna turned over an ace and a six. She did have three aces.

Lari turned over a jack and Barbara started to clap her hands. “Not so fast, Honeybuns.” Then Lari turned over a joker. “Four jacks beats three aces. You lose.”

Barbara started crying. “Don’t cry, Honeybuns. I’ll give you the same deal I gave peach fuzz over there.”

“You can’t,” blubbered Barbara and she stood up. There was no hair to sell. The only hair anywhere on her body was her eyebrows and the hair on her head.

“I said we could work something out. Maybe frat boy over there will help me out again. You lay across his lap and I will give you two dollars a swat as he beats your ass as hard as he can. Fifty swats, one hundred dollars. If you give up before fifty, then all you get is a sore ass.”

I kept saying to myself, “Stick to the plan. Stick to the plan. Stick to the plan.” But when Lari pointed to the couch I walked over and sat down and waited for Barbara to position herself on my lap.

“I should raise the entertainment tax to seventy-five, but we‘ll keep it at fifty. Is that OK with you, frat boy?” Lori said as she slid a stack of chips from my pile to hers.

My brain was telling me that something wasn’t going the way I intended here, but my prick was pushing up against Barbara’s naked stomach. She wiggled against me, gritted her teeth, and said through clenched lips, “Let’s get this over with.”

At about twenty smacks she said, “Faster, faster. At around forty she was thrashing on my legs. If I didn’t know better I would have thought she was humping my lap. When I reached fifty, she collapsed over my lap moaning, “No, no, no, no, no.”

“Honeybuns wants more, don’t you, Honeybuns?” Lari’s voice was almost a sing-song crooning. “If he continues it will be a freebie. No more chips.”

Barbara hugged my lap and thrust herself into me. “Give her another fifty. Don’t stop even if she pops.” Lari’s voice was now as crisp and loud as a commanding general’s.

I started spanking again, and almost immediately Barbara started chanting, “Yes, yes, yes, yes,” with each swat. Somewhere around twenty-five, she suddenly went stiff and arched herself up so that her back and her legs were bent upward in a bow. She was now rocking on my lap and crying out in one long, continuous high-pitched moan.

“Keep going!” ordered Lari, but I needed no encouragement. Barbara’s rocking motion was taking me over the top. Just as I said, “Fifty,” Barbara collapsed on my legs and I creamed my jeans.

“I really should have charged you extra for that.” Lari was looking at me with a sarcastic smile on her face.

Barbara stood up rather shakily. Her face– no her entire body– was red with embarrassment. “Sit down, Honeybuns,” Lari said derisively. “The only one who didn’t know your secret was frat boy and he ain’t ever going to tell anyone. Who would believe him?”

Lari then slid a $100 stack of chips over in front of Barbara, handed her the deck, and said simply, “Deal.”



This was NOT going as planned. My plan was to trick my soon-to-be ex-wife into betting everything on a rigged game of five card stud. I hadn’t used any of my special decks and two of the four women were now sitting at the table naked. One had a newly-shaved very smooth body. The other had a newly-spanked very red rear end. I wasn’t complaining, but this was not part of my plan. On the other hand, all four of these women were evidently a little more kinky than I had ever imagined, My thoughts started changing from just getting a good divorce settlement to something even more drastic. The possibility of enslaving my darling Charlie for a while as part of the setup no longer seemed so out of line with possible realities.

As it now stood, Charlie had won most of the hands, but not most of the money. Barb and Donna were effectively out of it. Lari was down a little. I was about at a grand, which was about what Charlie had. I figured it was time to bring in one of the rigged decks.

“Who spilled their drink on the cards?” I asked loudly. Then I added, “Good thing I have extra decks in my party box.” I walked over and pulled a sealed package containing two dozen decks of cards out the box. “Might as well do it right,” I said loudly enough for everyone to hear as I sat back down and opened the package and dumped the sealed decks onto edge of the table. I selected one of the slick joker decks, opened it and shuffled it thoroughly. I handed the deck to Charlie and she cut it about in the middle. I set the bottom on the top and then tapped the deck slightly as I picked it up.

Just like Maury had promised, the deck split cleanly about two-thirds of the way down. I now had a joker on the bottom. I thought about putting it in the hole, but decided that a joker showing would be less suspicious. It wasn’t a spectacular hand, but it was a winning hand for me. Both Donna and Barbara bet more than they should have, but Lari and Charlie played it fairly by the book and only lost a little. This was going to work.

On my next deal I gave myself the joker as one of my hole cards. Except for that, the deal was totally legit. But as Maury had said, a joker in the hole makes all the difference.

On the first card, Charlie got a four, Donna a ten, Lari a four, a nine to Barbara, and a Jack to me. I decided to push it a little and put ten in the pot. Everyone called and I dealt the first hole card, which for me was the slick joker. I pushed another ten into the pot. Donna sighed, but pushed ten into the center. Lari gave her characteristic chuckle and followed suit. Barbara said, “I’m getting out while I can,” and folded.

The third card was a six for Charlie, a deuce for Donna, a jack for Lari, a nine for Barbara’s dead hand, and a ten for me. Jack-ten was higher than jack-four, so it was my bid. I decided to cut back and pushed five into the pot. Charlie and Lari immediately called and to my amazement, Donna also pushed five into the center.

I added another five on my hole card. Again everyone matched except Barbara, who had already folded. The final card for Charlie was a nine; Donna was a seven; Lari got another four; Barb a king; and I got another jack.

I now had two jacks and a ten showing. Without my slider joker as a hole card, I would have had two pair, jacks and tens. With it, I had a full house. Barbara had a ten and two nines in her hand. Lari had another jack showing in hers, as well as two fours. Charlie had basically nothing, but she did have both a four and a ten showing. I was fairly sure that the only way I could be in trouble was if Lari had both a four and a joker in the hole. That was highly unlikely, but so was me having a joker and a ten. I would have to risk a little to find out what was what.

“One Hundred,” I said firmly and pushed a stack of chips into the center.

Charlie and Barbara immediately folded, but Lari pushed a stack of chips into the center and said, “Double it.”

I looked at the stack of chips in front of each of the girls. Charlie had the biggest pile. Lari had what looked like about 175 still in front of her.

“And another hundred,” I said as I pushed a stack into the center.

“Call” she answered. I could now easily count what she had left, seventy-one in chips.

I turned over the joker and the ten and Lari loudly said, “Damn! That’s fuckin’ unbelievable.”

She then turned over a joker and a jack. She had a jacks over fours full house, which lost to my jacks over tens.

Charlie had the next deal. The hands weren’t spectacular. Donna had a pair of tens and a six showing and took the bet up to thirty. Charlie had a pair of sixes and a jack showing. Both Barbara and I had jacks showing and Lari had one of the jokers, but none of us had anything, so we all folded. The best Charlie could have was a jack high full house if she had a jack and a joker in the hole, which wasn’t real likely.

Charlie raised by ten and Donna sigh deeply. “I only have nine left,” she said. “Can I call you short one and owe it if I lose?”

“Not on your ass,” answered Charlie. “I’ll let you call, but if you lose, your ass is mine for the rest of the weekend.”

“Excuse me,” I said, probably looking and sounding as surprised as I actually was. “Are you saying that if she loses, she’s your slave for the rest of the weekend?”

“Damn right,” Charlie answered. “Do you have a problem with that?”

“No,” I said, trying to sound nonchalant. “Just clarifying the terms of the bet.”

Donna bit her lower lip and pushed the rest of her chips into the center. “Call,” she said.

When Charlie turned over a nine, Donna gave a sigh of relief. That was premature, however, because Charlie then turned over a Jack.

“No!” she cried as she turned over a ten and a nine. Both had two pair, but Charlie had jacks over sixes and Donna only had tens over sixes.

“Slave,” Charlie said, “get us all some drinks.”

Donna gathered up the glasses from the table and scurried over to the table by the fireplace to refill them.

“Isn’t it her deal?” asked Barb.

“She’s out from here on,” said Lari. “No money, no deal. Give me the deck.”



I decided to ride out the next couple of hands and folded with what could have been winners, but I was interested in the setup, not any individual pot. Lari won the next several hands, and surprisingly, or perhaps not so surprisingly, on the third hand later, Barb ended up short in a run up against Lari. “Can I call you three short and owe it to you if I lose?” she asked hopefully.

Lari just laughed and said “Same deal as Donna got. I’ll accept the call, but if you go down, your ass is mine for a month.”

“That’s not the same deal Charlie gave Donna,” Barb whined.

Lari answered, “Donna was only down one. You’re down three.” She gave a short laugh that sounded more like a snort and said, “Take it or leave it.”

“I’ll take it,” answered Barb.

A moment later, she gave a slight shriek and a sigh as Lari turned over her hole cards showing a straight flush which beat Barbara’s full house.

Now two of the women were out of the game. Charlie had about a grand. Lori had several hundred, and I had a little short of twelve hundred. It was time to set the hook on the setup.

“Barbara cried all over these cards,” I said as I gathered them in to deal. “Anyone object to a new deck?”

“Go ahead,” said Charlie and Lari in unison. I glanced at the price tags and selected the proper deck for three players. It was time to go for the kill.

I made a big show of shuffling and reshuffling deck, but as Maury had taught me, I was false shuffling and the deck remained in the needed order. I passed the deck to Lari, since Barb was a dummy, and she split the deck into two piles in front of me. I scooped the two halves into my hand and did the one-hand flip that put the bottom back on top. I now had the stacked deck ready to deal.

“Stakes are getting pretty high, and I’m ahead,” I said as I held the deck ready to deal. “Maybe I should have Barb deal so you know that I’m not cheating.”

“Barb’s out of the game,” Lari said angrily. “I’ll deal for you.”

I was sure that I could tell Barb to deal Charlie first as though I was dealing, but I wasn’t sure about Lari. I was afraid that my plan might be totally screwed at the last minute, but she dealt the first card to my left as though I were dealing.

Charlie got an Ace, Lari a Queen, and I got a King.

Charlie bid ten. Lari called. I said, “Let’s take it up five, just for fun.”

Charlie and Lari called.

The second card was a hole card, and Charlie bid twenty-five. Lari and I called.

The third card was another Ace for Charlie, a Queen for Lari, and an Ace for me.

Charlie again bid twenty-five. Lari again called. This time, I raised her twenty-five and both she and Lari called.

Another hole card and another bid of twenty-five with two immediate calls. Then Charlie received a third Ace. Lari another Queen, and I got a jack. Now it was time to get down to some serious bidding. I knew that Charlie had two Kings in the hole for an Ace high full house. Lari had two Jacks for a Queen high full house. I had an Ace and a Ten for a Royal Flush.

Both Charlie and Lari would think they had a winning hand, especially against me. Charlie bid twenty. Lari called. I raised twenty-five, hoping that Charlie wouldn’t call.

She didn’t. “I’ll raise that another fifty,” she said as she pushed seventy-five chips into the center.

Lari’s eyes widened fully as she realized that she would be five short of calling. She looked over at Charlie.

“Same deal you gave Barbara,” said Charlie, “but for a year.”

Lari drew a deep breath as she thought about it and then said quietly, “Call.”

“I assume that transfers to me if I win?” I said, looking back and forth between the two of them.

“Of course,” answered Charlie. “And since a slave can’t have a slave, Barb would be part of the deal.”

I hadn’t expected that, but I hid my surprise and tried to say cheerfully, “Of course.” Then I said, “But there may be more to it than that.”

I said, “I raise 985,” as I pushed all of my chips into the center. “That means I’m all in, but since the pot is now at $1525, you must only have 975 left, so you can’t raise.” I laughed slightly and added, “In fact, you can’t even call.”

I sat there and calmly looked her in the eyes.

Charlie laughed slightly. “I’ll bet you want to make the same deal with me as I made with Lari, don’t you?”

“Not exactly,” I said quietly. “One year as my slave, plus your signature on the divorce papers as MY lawyer draws them up.”

Charlie made a big show of checking her hole cards. “I’ll see that and raise you,” she answered.

“How?” I asked. “You’re out of money.”

“I put myself up as your slave for ten years,” she said, looking me straight in the eyes, “against your balls and you being my slave for the same period.”

I don’t know that I would have risked my next move if there was any way that I could lose. “I raise you back,” I said. “I’ll put my prick in the pot against you as slave for life, and her” pointing to Lari, “ as my slave for a year.”

“That would mean you would be my slave for life if I win?” she asked.

I nodded. Charlie smiled and said, “Call.”

Lari suddenly said, “Wait! Before either of you turn over your cards, shouldn’t we have that bet in writing? And we should have a video of you turning over your cards.” She looked over at each of us, “That way the loser can’t back out if things don’t go his– or her– way.”

“Good idea,” said Charlie. “I have a contract writer on my tablet and there’s a wireless printer over there on the desk.”

I didn’t think it was possible to type that fast on a tablet, but in moments Charlie had the document ready. “A lot of it is boiler plate,” she said in a business-like tone as she pressed the print button.

“Go get the stuff out of the printer,” she ordered Donna, and the naked girl scampered over to the desk and returned with two sheets of paper. Everything was there, including the slavery versus castration stakes. Actually, the wording in the contract was that I would be “surgically transformed into a eunuch.” It was hard signing it after reading those words, but I wasn’t really risking anything because I couldn’t lose.

Lari handed her cellphone to Barbara and said, “The video is already running. Just don’t fuck this up, or you will regret it.”

I turned over my Royal Flush and smiled at Charlie, “Highest hand in the deck,” I said. “I win.”

“That would be true in standard poker,” Charlie said starting to smile deeply herself. “But we are playing jokers wild.” She then turned over her hole cards. Rather than the two kings I had set up in the stacked deck, she turned over two Jokers.

That wasn’t possible! Both of those jokers should have been together at the bottom of the deck. Somehow Charlie was cheating! I know she was cheating! But how could I say that without admitting that I, myself, was also cheating?

“Five Aces beats a Royal Flush.” Charlie said with an evil grin on her face.

I felt something sting me in the arm and looked over toward Barbara who was suddenly wide awake and sober. As I was fading out, I heard Charlie say, “Barb is a world class anesthesiologist. You’re in good hands.”

I woke up later in a hospital-style bed in the basement of the cabin. Donna was there wearing scrubs and a nurse’s cap. There was an IV in my arm. I felt totally out of it, like I was on some heavy-duty pain pills.

“The third day will be the hardest,” Donna said, “because the swelling might close the ureter where it comes through the skin.”

When I heard that, I tried to reach between my legs to feel what was– or wasn’t– there, but my hands were attached to the sides of the bed with surgical restraints.

“Can’t have you pulling out an IV or any of the stitches before they heal,” said Donna. “We’ll release you in five days when everything is starting to heal up. But for now it’s time for you to go back to sleep.”

I saw her lean over the IV with something in her hands and I once again faded out.



Charlie didn’t divorce me She had me declared dead.

After the girls returned from the Christmas Club at their cabin– yes, Charlie and Lari actually owned the cabin– they reported me missing. They said that I had insisted on leaving the day of the blizzard even though they had all urged me to wait out the storm with them.

My SUV was found at the bottom of a canyon in the spring. It had burned after it rolled the thousand or so feet down the side of the mountain and crashed into the granite at the bottom of the ravine. My body was never found, but there was just enough DNA material left in the car to indicate that I must have been in it when it crashed and burned.

It was assumed that the animals had dragged away what little had been left of me during the spring thaw. The verdict was accidental death. The only real question the coroner’s jury had was why I had decided to take the twisting path down the mountain from the back of the cabin rather than the highway which ran in front. The highway was cleared the day after the storm. The dirt road wasn’t cleared until spring.

At first, Charlie kept me hidden away in the basement at our house. I thought of trying to escape, but where would I go and what would I do? Besides, I would rather be thought dead than have anyone know what I now was.

Doctor Sapperstein did a little more surgery– this time on my face, and once the hormone treatments had caused my beard to disappear and breasts to grow, Charlie introduced me as her new live-in, maid.

“Somebody has to do the cooking and cleaning,” she would say to her friends, “and I was never any good at that sort of thing.” She would then laugh and add, “Sometimes I think that was the only reason I married him in the first place.”

Donna lives at the house with us now. She is a nurse at the hospital where Lari works. She has been Charlie’s slave and lover since college. Mistress Charlie– as she insists her slaves call her– keeps her naked most of the time when no one is around. She also keeps me naked. Most nights, I end up having to service them both with my tongue I don’t have anything else. Charlie also likes to use a strap-on with Donna or me on a regular basis.

Lari and her slave Barbara come over to visit a lot. Often the four of them will play cards of one sort or another while I act as their naked waitress. Even without feminine clothing, with the hormone treatments and nothing to stick out from my pubic hair, even naked, it is difficult to tell that I am not a woman.

Charlie likes to host card parties for her friends and business acquaintances. Usually Lari is also there. I particularly remember one night when there were a dozen or so women over for the evening. Lari started the evening impressing them with card tricks. She would pull a card from the deck, put it in the middle and then flip it over on the top of the deck a moment later. She would also show her skill at shuffling and dealing– both properly and in slow motion to show how she could be cheating.

When they were properly impressed by her false shuffles and bottom deals, she explained, “I learned a lot of this while I worked my way through college and med school as a dealer at an underground casino. But most of it I learned from my father. He not only taught me how to deal from the bottom of the deck, but also how to slide cards off the top that I didn’t want to deal.”

She laughed, “That’s a lot harder because you have to palm the card and hide it away for later.” She looked over at me in my rather short maid’s outfit as I served drinks and gave me a wide smile. She then turned back to the other ladies and said, “But I would never have the gazuubahs to do that to my friends.”

I nearly dropped the serving tray when she said that. I suddenly realized who her father was. I also realized that it had indeed been the perfect setup from the very start. They had to have planned it for months, perhaps even years. And Maury was in on it from the very beginning. They worked their plan carefully and slowly maneuvered me into everything that happened. I did exactly as they expected, even down to having Lari, the well-trained card sharp, deal that final hand.

With the skill of a surgeon’s hands, Lari had pulled the jokers from the bottom as she dealt and palmed the kings she should have given Charlie. I thought that there was no way that I could lose, but all along, there was no way that I could win. I wasn’t the one pulling the strings. I was the sucker who had been set up to loose his gazuubahs.

As I look back on things, I have to admit that it truly was a [perfect[ setup. And it went [exactly [ as they had planned it. My gazuubahs are now gone. And I am the one who is literally getting it in the ass.

= = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = =
= = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = =

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