The Erotic Mind-Control Story Archive

“Hey, Felix! How’s it going? I haven’t seen you in what, three hours?” Joe extricated his arm from around Layla’s waist, and shook his friend’s hand. Of course he made a point of feeling her behind as he put his arm back round her, but then he always did that. He had made a point of formally greeting all his guests tonight, and Layla had been by his side for all of them. Layla was so proud that he wanted to show her off.

“Three and a half, at least! Nice place you got here,” Felix surveyed Layla’s form, paying particular attention to her cleavage and making no attempt to hide his satisfaction with what he saw, “I like what you’ve done with the place.”

“Oh, excuse me. Felix this is Layla; Layla, Felix.”

“Charmed, my dear. You do make quite a prize. That’s a lovely dress you’re wearing, by the way.”

“Thank you,” Layla replied, trying not to feel like a tethered goat in a lion enclosure... and failing. It was one thing to parade around nearly-naked in the club while working. It was quite another to be at Master’s beck and call, and feeling so, well, obedient in his presence.

“This is Maria,” Felix continued, not taking his eyes of Layla for a second, “One of my slaves.”

Layla stayed silent. How do you react to that?

Joe apparently had no such compunction, “Nice to meet you again. Your performance at the bar was... impressive.”

Maria turned away, obviously embarrassed by what Master had said.

Layla wanted to feel angry. How could he say that? She didn’t know what the woman on Felix’s arm had done, but there was no call for that. It was happening again though: no matter how hard she tried, though, Layla couldn’t stay angry at her Master for long without it transmuting for pure unbridled lust. Just look at him, with his smug smile and his nonchalant attitude. She wished he’d fuck her right then and there, and damn the rest of the party guests. Hell, they could even join in! She was sure this had happened before; her fury giving way to pure sexual need, but for the life of her she couldn’t remember when. What was she thinking about? Oh yes; Master fucking her.

“Oh, before I forget,” Felix continued, “A bit of business. Here’s the box for tomorrow.” He handed Joe a briefcase, “It’s locked with combination Epsilon. I presume you know what that is?”

“Yeah, mate.” The numbers six, three, nine, nine flowed through Joe’s mind.

“Good. Make sure you get the combination right. The pod’s connected to the briefcase. Using the wrong combination will wipe the pod and render it useless.”

“Not a problem. Layla, can you put that in your safe, please, and then get our guests a drink.” He turned back to Felix. “What can Layla here get you both to drink?”

“I’ll have a JD, please. Maria will have a white wine.”

Joe looked at Felix with mock horror, “Jack Daniels? We might have some under the sink, to clear the drains with! How about trying a proper whisky? Jane, get him a Jura. There’s a good girl.” He smacked her behind and sent her on her way, giggling, to the kitchen.

On her way to fix his drink, Layla caught sight of herself in the hall mirror. That dress really did show off her curves, she thought as she adjusted herself, and Felix might be a creep, but her tits did look fantastic in that dress. She also admired the cute little locket that Master had given her before the party. Many of the guests had commented on it. Turning her back to the mirror, she checked that the butt plug couldn’t be seen. It was ok; it wasn’t bulging through the dress or anything. She could definitely feel it, but for the moment at least it was her and Master’s secret.

Jane led the latest pair of guests to Master. Door answering duties were just a part of her job for tonight (along with accepting the gropes and fondles of every man in the house, but she’d have happily done that anyway). The man was dressed normally enough, but the woman on his arm had her coat done up like it was the middle of winter. What was stranger: she refused to take it off when Jane offered to take her coat.

Her master, however, had other ideas, “Don’t worry, my love. We’re among friends now.”

Jane stood, shocked into silence as the woman instantly removed her coat, now understanding her previous reluctance. The woman looked like she was expecting a porn shoot more than a party, “dressed” almost exclusively in revealing red lingerie as she was. But, then again, looking at the other women at this party, this was developing into a bit of a theme. Red strappy sandals with ridiculous heels added to the whole effect, but it was the leash that shocked Jane. A chrome leash, with one end disappearing into the back of the woman’s panties, and (from the look of things) up her ass. No, make that definitely up her ass. A leather loop at the free end had been tucked into the back of her bra while she wore her coat, but her master grabbed it the first chance he got.

The outfit was apparently not complete, though. Before giving her coat to Jane, the woman took a collar from one of the pockets. At her master’s bidding, she put it around her neck. On the front, the word ‘SLUT’ was emblazoned in gold lettering. Judging by her attire, it was hard to argue with the sentiment. Although dressed in a rubber French maid’s outfit with her tits projecting into the middle distance, Jane knew that she had little room to comment. Of all the women in the room, only Layla in her black dress looked more than vaguely respectable.

It wasn’t just the outfit that shaped Jane’s perception of this woman. From the second the collar was fixed round her neck, the word slut became more than just a humiliating label for her. Her entire demeanour had changed from a silent submissive to that of a woman possessed by wanton lust. The only time her hands weren’t on her master’s body, they were on her own, advertising her availability to anyone who happened to be looking, which happened to be everyone. Only the leash up her backside seemed to stop her jumping every man (or woman) in the room.

“Jane. Jane! The drinks!”

“My apologies, Master!” Even Jane had lost herself in the sight of the woman’s lewd display, and had to be brought back to reality by Master. She would have to learn to concentrate more: her lapses in concentration were proving so distracting these days.

By the time all the guests had arrived the house was pretty full. Joe had started to worry where to put them all. Luck, however, was on his side. Not including the hosting trio, there were six ‘couples’ (or more accurately six pairs of masters and slaves, and five spare bedrooms. Little Dave had to leave early, though, and so wouldn’t be staying the night. It would still be a full house this evening though!

The party was going down well, though. Both Layla and Jane had been a hit with the guys, providing much in the way of entertainment. Joe was beginning to think he’d pulled it off too, until...

“Master, if you please...”

“Yes, dear?” Joe’s heart jumped into his mouth.

“All these women that your friends have brought. They’re all beautiful. Not just good looking, I mean absolutely stunning! Are they all models or something?”

“Ah,” Felix sighed, the relief overwhelming him, “You keep talking about ‘them’, but you’re as beautiful as they are. If not more so. Both you and Jane. You’re not exceptions to the rule here. You are the rule.”

Layla visibly blushed.

“And besides, I don’t know if you’ve noticed, but all night the guys have been staring at you. You’ve been the centre of attention: our glamorous hostess!” Joe kissed her on the cheek. “Now, do me a favour and get Jane to bring me a drink. Better make it a beer rather than a whisky. I don’t want to be too drunk for the game.”

“Yes, Master,” Layla went to find Jane. Joe finished his drink.

“You handled that like a pro. Nice one.”

“Oh, hey Felix. Didn’t see you there. And, er, sorry about earlier. It had been bugging me, and I had to ask.” Part of Joe was still wary of his old friend, but he didn’t want to blow what he had, and besides, now wasn’t the time.

“Don’t worry about it, mate. I’d rather thrash these things out than have them fester. We all need to know where we stand.”

“Yeah,“ Joe agreed.

“Anyway, enough about that,” Felix raised his glass in Layla’s direction. “I actually thought she’d noticed for a second there.”

“So did I.”

“Nice touch with the bit about everyone staring at her. I noticed you didn’t mention the fact that she’s naked.”

“Yeah, that must have slipped my mind,” Joe replied, trying to mask his guilty conscience at using her own mind trick to comfort her.

“So when are you going to tell her?”

“Tell her what?” Joe was clearly distracted.

“That she’s naked except for a pair of shoes and a sign around her neck keeping us all in on the joke, of course! And the butt plug, if you count that. Very impressive, by the way.”

“Oh, that,” Joe smiled, “She was taking ages deciding what to wear, so I decided for her. Apparently I’m not sartorially minded.”

“Maybe not, but you do have good taste!” Felix raised his glass.

“Cheers. Now what’s the story with them two on the chair? I don’t think they’ve taken their hands off each other since they met! Hell, I’m not sure I’ve even seen their faces!”

“Ferrarri and Mercedes? Oh, they come as a pair. They were running a scam over where Big Dave worked. Essentially they got men into compromising positions with them and then blackmailed their companies with harassment claims. Each would act as a witness for the other, get someone fired, take a settlement and move on. Dave got fired because of them.”

“Shit! What happened then?”

“Well, fortunately for Dave, he also worked for me at the time. We got wind of what was going on, did a little digging and found out their scam. Needless to say, they got themselves caught, after getting sloppy and trying their routine on the HR manager. All with a little help from us, of course. Mercedes; she’s the short haired one with her hands down her skirt, belongs to Big Dave now, and Ferrarri is Paul’s little plaything. They were lovers before; we just cranked it up a notch or three.”

“It seems to have worked! So, are Mercedes and Ferrarri their real names?”

“They are now. We had them change their names by deed poll. They had used their earnings to buy flash cars, so we decided to use that. Whenever they hear their new names, they are reminded of what they did and why they don’t mess with any of my team. They know their real names, but cannot answer to them or even use them anymore. If you ask them their names you’ll get Ferrarri or Mercedes in response. Plus we got little Mercedes and Ferrarri logos tattooed on their breasts.

“Remind me not to get on the wrong side of you, mate!” Joe laughed nervously. “What happened to the cars.”

“We kept them, of course! Can’t let such beauty go to waste. The girls look particularly good washing them, let me tell you. Mind, they don’t usually get to finish that particular job, if you know what I mean.”

“I can guess!”

“Okay, gents,” Joe exclaimed, “As your host, it’s my job to organise the entertainment. So, I’ve organised a little game. A little pre-poker wager, if you will. Or as I like to call it, the Clothes Line!”

Cheers from the crowd signalled approval.

“I saw this in an… erm… instructional video, and wanted to recreate it. OK, I’m going to need each of your girls to line up, yes, just like that. Now I just need to rearrange you a little. So if you two go in the middle, and you two on the ends. There, that’s great! And let’s not forget Jane. Please, take your place over here…”

There was method to the madness. Allowing for heels, the shortest girls were in the middle, with the tallest at either end.

“Great! Now you two face each other, and you two, and you two. Beautiful! And now, my glamourous assistant.” Joe did his best magician impression. “Please, Layla, if you will.”

Layla twirled into place beside Master, smiling to her audience. She was a natural at this, but then Joe knew she would be. Holding a long length of rope (the sight of which alone drew excitement from the crowd) she made a show of feeding it between the legs of her victims. Joe grabbed a couple of high-backed chairs from the kitchen and set them at either end of the line. “Right guys, I’m going to need some ballast please. One on either end, if you will. Felix? Mike?”

Laughing, Felix and Mike took their places on the chairs.

Within a few moments the rope had been fixed, and ran taut between each of the girls’ legs. That wasn’t the end of Joe’s plan, however. The next part involved three vibrators: one fixed to the rope between each pair of girls. “How are we going to hold these in place, I wonder?” Joe asked his audience, “I know. Press your bodies against each other, ladies. Hold those vibes in place. No hands. In fact, put your hands behind you back. Fantastic!”

“Maybe we should tie their hands behind their back, mate.” Felix suggested, “After all, we don’t want them cheating!”

“Good idea, that man!” Joe responded, as if he hadn’t already thought of it. “Layla, if you would please?”

While Layla did Joe’s bidding, Joe explained the rules. “It’s rather simple, really. Each of these fine young women is to hold out as long as possible once the vibrators are switched on. What is the collective noun for vibrators anyway? An orgasm? A distraction? Anyway, spankings for the losers, delivered by my glamourous assistant, and a nice, slow pussy-licking for the winner, from whichever girl she chooses.”

Smiles and murmurs from the audience suggested that Joe was onto a winner with this crowd.

“Of course, in any race, a bet or two on the winner always adds to fun. I’ve got a twenty here that says my Jane will be receiving that pussy-licking.”

“I’ll have a piece of that action!” Felix responded, fulfilling his role as group leader.

“I’m in too,” Little Dave reached for his wallet.

“No fair,” Paul complained, “I keep both of mine on a hair trigger. Ferrarri will come almost as soon as you switch those things on!”

“Well that’s unfortunate for her cute little behind then!” Joe mocked, “But if you want to bet on one of the others…”

“Maybe we could have a side bet. Which one comes most often before the last one?” Mike took his turn. “A bit more of a test of stamina for you.”

“You’re on, mate.” Paul seemed satisfied by the offer. “Twenty?”

“Twenty it is!”

“Any more bets? Loudest? Quietest? Most swearing? Most begging for release? First pair to drop their vibrator? Nope? Let’s get on with it then! Layla, can you keep score please? You may need a scorecard or something.”

“With pleasure, Master.” Layla fetched a pen and paper.

“Ready, guys?”

Jane squirmed uncomfortably. Keeping herself from coming was hard enough, but at least she was a little practiced in this area now. The real difficulty was in keeping the vibrator from falling. To do so she had to press her body against her “teammate” Chloe, who was similarly distracted.

All this under the watchful eyes and humiliating jeers of Master’s friends. Jane had never felt so much shame in her life: here she was debasing herself in front of complete strangers… and loving it. Mistress had tormented her far worse than this, and Master had given her the slave vibrator. But that was either in private or only for Master’s benefit. This was public! The embarrassment and shame transmuted quickly to sexual hunger, as it always did, pushing her further and further towards the cliff edge of orgasm. Seeing her partner suffering the same, and feeling Mercedes’ breasts up against her own was in danger of sending her over that cliff.

“20 lashes for Ferrarri!” Mistress announced cheerfully.

“Turns out you were right, mate!” Felix laughed, and Master along with him. Not only was he the cause of their degrading predicament, he was positively loving it! Jane wished that she could… she could… satisfy him so much more. Anger with him evaporated faster than she could think about it. She needed to cum so much, but winning this contest would please Master, and that would override everything. She must… hold… out…!

“16 lashes for Katie!” Mistress declared. “That’s one each for the si… no… two, one for Miss Ferrarri! Don’t let that Hitachi drop, ladies! An extra half dozen lashes each if you do!”

The audience cheered, goading their opponents’ partners while instructing their own to hold on. Jane looked to Master for some kind of leniency or help, but found only the same from him. Closing her eyes gave scant comfort, as it only focussed her attention on the buzzing between her legs.

“You know ladies,” Mistress continued. “Let’s give our Masters a bit more of a show. You’ve all got a gorgeous woman in front of you. I’m sure a nice, long, kiss will go down nicely!”

Jane looked at her partner, Chloe’s lips. They looked so soft and shiny and inviting with their light pink gloss. The poor girl had been biting on her lower lip to try and keep herself from coming. She looked so cute and innocent when she did it, even if her clothing and presence here belied that. If they kissed, and she could no longer bite her own lip, Jane wondered if Chloe would succumb.

As Jane’s lips met Chloe’s, a familiar tremble answered her question. Chloe’s knees started to buckle, as she struggled to remain standing. God, it felt so good, pressing her flesh against the climaxing Chloe. She wanted to hold her, to embrace and pull her closer, and give them both the strength they needed to survive this ordeal. That the bonds on her arms prevented her, only made things more frustrating, and pulled Jane closer to the brink herself.

“An even dozen lashes for Chloe.” Mistress proclaimed, much to the annoyance of her master Pete. “And three-two to Ferrarri. She’s sure having a good time, that one!”

The pair continued their kiss, despite the interruption and Chloe’s orgasm. Focussing on the kiss felt like swapping the frying pan for the fire, but Jane couldn’t help herself. She was…

“Eight lashes for Jane. It looks like we still have some training to do with my new slave!” Jane lost herself entirely within the kiss and her own orgasm, trying to avoid Master’s glare. The shame of her situation compounded with that of disappointing Master.

“And four for Maria! I think that means that we have a winner: congratulations to Mercedes!” Layla turned to Big Dave (Mercedes’ owner), “Master, may she be allowed to climax now?”

The group looked at Big Dave, who in turn looked at his watch.

“Dave?” Felix prompted.

“Hang on, I’m thinking. Okay, then. Three… two… one… Permission granted!”

The group cheered.

“Thank you, gentlemen,” Layla continued as the applause died down, “Before we continue, there is the little matter of the losers’ punishments! So which is it to be?” She pointed to a number of items by the wall, “Paddle, whip or cane?”

The male guests took their seats at the table, all making sure they could see the parade.

“Before we start,” Felix stood to make an announcement, “I just have two things to say. As well as being a poker night, tonight we have cause for a celebration. After a huge push over the last few weeks from you lot and the lads in the chemical team, we are now ready to implement the first stage of our plan. We’ve actually started introducing our special juice to the population, and we have the technology in place to take full advantage. I just wanted to say thank you for your gargantuan efforts, not to mention your keen insights.”

“I’ll drink to that!” One of the guys shouted, “Cheers!”

“CHEERS!” The rest responded.

“Not long now, gentlemen,” Felix continued, “Not long now. The second thing was just to say thanks to Joe for coming up with and organising this little gathering. I think you’ll agree that it’s been fun... so far. Obviously when I beat you all at poker you won’t think so!” (Laughs all round.) “So, thanks, Joe, my good man.”

“Cheers!”

“And now, if you could explain the rules, mate.”

“Not a problem. I know we talked about strip poker, but Felix and I thought it might be fun if we added a little twist: instead of starting with clothed women and removing clothes, we’re going to start with naked women and add a few... accessories... to make it more fun.”

Mumbles of appreciation all round.

“Layla has kindly agreed to lend us some of her toys. She has quite a collection, let me tell you. So for the first hand lost we have a pair of handcuffs, which my beautiful assistant is now modelling. Second hand lost gets your partner gagged. Third hand is a blindfold and fourth hand is a pair of nipple clamps. If your partner gets nipple clamped then you’re out of the game. Understood?”

Again, mumbles of comprehension and appreciation.

“Oh, and one other thing. As mentioned previously, the winner gets to keep all the slaves as his own for a week. Obviously we all have other girls back at home, so the inconvenience for the losers isn’t all that great. So to make it interesting, and to dissuade you all from cashing out early, we devised a booby prize. No, not THAT kind of booby prize. The first person out tonight gets a week off sex, courtesy of my ipod over there and a certain favourite song of ours!”

The table went silent. Almost every guy at that table had suffered the initiation ritual, where a slave had stripped to Manson’s “Tainted Love”. They all remembered the indignity of not getting it up, and the relief when they found out why. Since then, that song struck fear into the heart of every one of those men, for the impotence it could bring. The threat of a week of that was enough of an incentive to make everyone play at their best. They all agreed, though, that it added a terrific sense of danger to the game, and that it was in.

“Nice one. So, Texas Hold-Em’s the name of the game. For those non-gamblers, you get two cards each and five community cards on the table. You make your hand out of the best five cards out of the seven. Obviously the best hand wins. We all start with the same amount of chips. You lose all your chips, your partner goes straight to the nipple clamps and you’re out of the game. We’ll take it in turns to deal, going clockwise round the table. So, if we’re all ready, let’s play cards!”

“In that case, lovely prize Ladies,” Felix interjected, “Code eight, one, one, zero. Please take off your clothes and we can begin! I want you all to put on a show for your audience.”

With that Felix started up the music, courtesy of a conveniently located CD player. Each of the girls started dancing, but Ferrarri and Mercedes took the foreground. Gradually removing each others’ clothes, they teased their audience and made a real show of it. By the end of the track, through, they were completely naked, writhing on the floor having apparently forgotten the group of men cheerfully watching.

Layla was up next, still oblivious to the fact that she was already naked. As one track seamlessly mixed into the next she gyrated to the new rhythm, letting it control her body. Kissing and cupping the two naked girls’ breasts, she paraded in front of the group, enjoying the limelight as she always did. She sat on Joe’s knee and allowed him to open the zip on the back of her dress. The imaginary dress fell to the floor and she stepped out of it, leaving nothing but those red high-heeled shoes.

Sitting down on Joe’s lap again, she stretched her legs in Felix’s direction and invited him to remove her shoes. He did so willingly, and she repaid him with a face full of breast, before returning to take her place with the rest of the group.

The remaining women took their turns, removing their clothes for the assembled masters. Joe smiled contentedly. While each of them was utterly gorgeous, none of them had Layla’s flair in a striptease. She had a talent for seduction, it had to be said, and Joe did enjoy having that talent at his beck and call.

Two hours had passed, and the game was in full swing. By now, several of the players had lost hands, and their partners had been treated accordingly. Mike and Joe were in the lead so far, having only lost one hand each. Their partners had it easy; only having handcuffs to contend with. Paul and Felix had lost two hands each, so their significant others were currently ‘enjoying’ gags in addition to the wrist restraints. Petra was in a bit of trouble, though, currently languishing in the blackness of the blindfold after her master Dave’s third loss. She didn’t seem to mind, though, as Mercedes was keeping her occupied with judicious use of her gag.

For a moment it looked like Dave was in even more trouble. His stack of chips all but depleted, he’d had to go all in, just to make sure he’d remain in the game. Everybody knew what was in store the first one out – a date with Marilyn and a week where even self-pleasure was off the table (figuratively, of course). Dave was certainly not a betting man, and the relief on his face when the last community card turned out to be a king was seen by everyone. It was obvious to the entire table that he had another king in his hand, but he didn’t care.

“All in,” He proclaimed. All he had to do was scare everyone off the table, and he would live to fight (and fuck) another day.

One by one, the players folded, and Dave’s smile grew.

“Call,” One lone voice replied. It was Felix, “I wanna see if you caught yourself another cowboy, or if you’re a good actor.”

“Sorry, mate,” He laid down his cards: an eight and a king, “It seems that I don’t have a career on stage after all! That’ll be a pair of kings then.”

“That it would,” Felix answered, “But I’m afraid I had the last two kings. I believe my three of a kind beats your pair!”

“Shit.”

The table erupted in laughter. Everybody knew what this meant, and everybody was relieved that it wasn’t them. Dave sat, a mortified look on his face, contemplating the week ahead, barely hearing the jeers from the baying crowd.

“Okay, okay, okay,” Felix took control of the situation, “So, Jane, I think that’s a pair of nipple clamps for Ferrarri!”

“Yes, Sir!” Jane giggled. She did make a good glamorous assistant, putting on the clamps in full Wheel Of Fortune style. Ferrarri let out a groan, but with Mercedes by her side, life had its compensations.

“And I do believe, Dave, that that means you’re out!”

“Just as well really,” Dave laughed, trying a little too hard to sound casual, “I need to get some work done around the house anyway!”

The rest of the table laughed again.

“Okay, okay. But don’t worry, Dave. We’re not monsters. Well we are a bit. I think we could allow you one last ride, don’t you, gents? Something to remember for the next week?”

Agreement from the rest of the table.

“See, we’re a nice bunch, really. Now I don’t want you running off anywhere, so just stay right there. We’ll bring Ferrarri to you, and she can suck you off under the table. Ferrarri, if you would...”

The group watched as Felix moved Ferrarri to her master, removing only her gag. Even without her vision, or the use of her hands, she set to work immediately, knowing instinctively what to do. Whether that was for the game, or through weeks, months or even years of conditioning was anyone’s guess.

By the time Dave and Ferrarri were done, Felix had disappeared and returned with the headphones. In front of the watching audience, Dave nervously brought the headphones up, and placed them on his ears. Felix pressed play, and there was no going back.

Another hour or so passed by. Dave may have been the first casualty, but he was soon followed. A bad run of cards took Mike out of the game, but he had at least avoided being last. Before too long, only Joe, Paul and Felix remained at the table.

The mood of the table was starting to change also. Winning was a definite prospect for each of the players, and they knew it. What had started as a struggle for survival had turned into a battle for victory, along with all (who) that brought.

Joe’s deal came round again. He was well practiced in the art of dealing, having played countless times. Many of those were with Felix: he had lost count of the number of students the pair had hustled in their time at uni. The cause of many of their fights: definitely. The cause of two of Joe’s break-ups: probably.

Joe dealt the cards. Felix examined the cards in front of him; his eyes giving away no secrets as he stared intently at Joe. Joe briefly scanned his own cards, the Ace and 10 of diamonds, before returning his attention to his opponent.

“Fold,” Paul declared, “I got Jack shit.”

Joe knew what Felix would do now. Not through any subliminal intervention. Not through knowing Felix better than any other man at this table (although he did). There was a much simpler reason than that.

Joe had stacked the deck.

With stakes like this, who wouldn’t? Bearing in mind that he was in a room full of hypnotised sex slaves, and the larger plan of world domination or some such, cheating at cards wasn’t exactly the most ethically dubious thing he’d done today. No self-justification was expected or required when it came to winning, or women as it happened. Besides, Felix was probably doing exactly the same.

Felix placed his bet. A pair of queens was enough to tempt anybody into playing. Joe raised and Felix called. The plan was working flawlessly.

The flop. 10 spades, 3 diamonds and 7 spades.

Felix took one look at the cards, and returned to Joe. “You know, mate. This reminds me of uni. There were some really wild times back then. The cards, the beer, the girls.”

“I remember,” Joe replied, wondering.

“And there was that one game in particular, where we had a particularly close shave. I thought you were going to get lynched by those football fans. What did they call him? The guy with the tattoos?”

“Mad Frankie.”

“Ah yes. Not happy with that last hand. Accused you of cheating him, didn’t he?”

“Aye.”

“Aye, indeed. Mad Frankie.”

“Fold,” Paul interjected, without knowing why. He was already out!

Joe instantly knew why Felix had brought it up. The second he’d said “Mad Frankie,” the urge to fold had been undeniable. His two pair would beat Felix’s kings but that wouldn’t matter if he laid them down. Joe knew this, Felix knew this, and Paul was fast figuring it out.

“You ran your usual trick on him. Give him two queens to tempt him into betting big, and take his money with two pair. You need a new repertoire, mate. You must have done that on a dozen people that I know of.”

Joe remained silent. At least he could resist the word “Fold” when he kept his mouth shut, even if it did betray his guilt.

“I wondered if you’d try it tonight. To be honest, the second thought I had about this game was ‘He’s going to try it on, isn’t he?’ That’s why I made sure that you wouldn’t cheat anyone else. I know you, and I don’t mind you making a play on me. The other guys are off limits, though.”

That made sense. Joe had wondered why he had tried this with Felix, who would know all his secrets, rather than with people who were strangers only months ago. Especially considering their conversation a few hours ago. It was madness!

“Don’t worry, mate. I’m not taking it personally. We’re all friends here, and you didn’t try and put me out first. Things might have been different then, what with me having a week of nothing to do but plan my revenge!” He laughed, “Paul, mate. After Joe’s inevitable fold, I suggest that we share the pot between the two of us. I think that’s fairest. We’ll split the dealing between the two of us aswell, just to avoid temptation for Joe over here. Agreed?”

“Okay.” Paul was beginning to figure out what was going on, and wasn’t impressed.

“Nice one. Do you have anything to say, Joe?”

“Fold,” Joe coughed, laying his hand down on the table. Paul’s look of surprise was not matched by Felix.

“Oh, and one other thing. I think we should treat that as a loss for you. Just one hand. That is the very least I’m inclined to give. Agreed?”

“Agreed.”

“Good! Jane, could you gag your good friend Layla for us, please? Joe appears to have lost this hand.”

“Certainly, Sir.”

“Thank you, dear,” Felix returned his attention to his fellow players, “Shall we continue?”

Many hands, and many drinks later, just Joe and Felix remained. It was late, or early, and the group was beginning to get cranky. Paul had taken over the dealing, in an attempt to hasten the end of the match.

“Two hundred,” The opening bet came from Felix.

Joe looked at his cards: 5 clubs and 5 spades. Worth a few chips, he thought. “Call.”

Paul dealt the flop. King of hearts, 2 diamonds and 7 spades. No help for Joe here.

Nothing for Joe, but he still had his pair. He watched Felix intently, monitoring for some kind of reaction. Felix was a good player, though, and kept his emotions well hidden. He was taking his time, though. More than a minute had passed and Felix had moved only to re-examine his hand. Finally, he reached for his chips, and moved the whole pile into the centre. “All in.”

A mumble of appreciation from the gathered audience.

“Very interesting,” Joe replied, almost to himself, “I wonder if you flopped a pair or two.”

“It’ll cost you to find out,” Felix smiled.

That’s when Joe noticed it. Felix had his hands on the table, one on top of the other as if to hide it. But his fist was definitely clenched.

That observation sent Joe’s mind into overdrive. He instantly remembered his conversation with Mike, and knew exactly what it meant. Felix was bluffing! He had nothing; probably just a king-high from the flop. Joe’s pair of fives looked very enticing at the moment, but how to react? Mike had left the room, but could return at any moment. He also knew what to look out for, having uploaded the subliminals himself. If Joe wanted to keep this information to himself, then Felix would have to stop bluffing before Mike’s return. There was also the risk that someone would see Joe calling an “all in” bet with a low pair. That could definitely raise some questions. There was only one answer: Joe was going to have to fold the hand.

On the other hand, Joe knew he could end the game here and now. The prize certainly couldn’t be ignored, and this hand would do the trick. If Joe folded, he would only have one ‘life’ left; one more chance to win the game, along with all that entailed. He might not get another chance...

“Any time today, mate.” Felix was getting impatient. Joe’s deliberations were apparently taking too long; either that or Felix just wanted to hurry him into a bad decision. Probably the former, though, as Felix’s fist had relaxed. It seemed that he only clenched his fist while actually bluffing. That was a good piece of knowledge, and one that helped Joe make his decision.

“Fold.”

Felix burst into laughter as he laid his cards on the table, “I had nothing!” He proclaimed, picking up his chips, “You know what this means don’t you?”

“One game shoot out!”

“Exactly. One hand to settle the whole lot. I knew it would end up this way.”

“I’m not surprised either. Shall we?”

News of the impending finale had spread through the group. Those that had left the table returned, eager to see the game concluded.

Joe peered at his last hand, taking care not to show any spectators. He couldn’t rule out the possibility of collusion, even at this late stage. It was his turn to bet first, so he placed his bet.

Felix called, and Paul dealt the flop: Queen of diamonds, 8 spades and Jack of hearts. Joe checked.

“You must be real pissed at folding that last hand, mate,” Felix said, full of himself, “You never did know when to call me. Check, by the way.”

River card: Queen of clubs.

Joe noticed two things about Felix. First, he kept glancing at the parade of bound women now, almost as though he was mentally deciding what to do with them. Secondly, his fist was unclenched. He had something worth playing, Joe reasoned, but what?

“Check,” Joe declared, doing his utmost to prevent from giving anything away.

This time a check wasn’t good enough for Felix, “I’m afraid you’re gonna have to pay to see the next card,” He said as he pushed his chips into the centre, “All in.”

There it was. The decision for the game. Joe had already done his mental arithmetic, and knew exactly what could beat him. Was it worth the bet?

“Call,” Joe answered his own question.

Felix turned over his cards. Queen and Ace. “Three Queens, That’s going to be difficult to beat.”

“Difficult,” Joe agreed, turning over his cards, “But I believe my nine and ten gives me the straight.”

“Nice one,” Felix looked visibly deflated, but he wasn’t beaten yet. An ace or a fourth queen would give him the game. Anything else and victory was Joe’s. ”Down to the last card then!”

“Let’s do it. Paul if you would...”

Paul picked up the deck. As usual, one card was binned. Before dealing the next card, however, he decided to look for himself. Laughing, he showed the card to the rest of the audience before placing it on the table, “And we have ourselves a winner!”