Date: Sat, 07 Aug 2004 14:06:05 -0700
From: RC in Sacramento <sacwriter@hotmail.com>
Subject: Munchkin Chptr 9

This is a work of fiction. It depicts the often sexual relationship between
two young girls. If this offends you or if you're not old enough to be
reading this stuff, then get out NOW. If, however, you're where you want to
be, then enjoy.

			 MUNCHKIN
			 Chapter 9
			by Sacwriter


	"Alright, here's the rules. The game is Texas Hold 'em. Since this is a
small table and we don't want to be looking at your smelly drawers, we will
play for chips and will buy them as needed. Shoes and socks are worth five
dollars each , which is a blue chip. Outer clothes, pants and shirts, are
twenty five dollars. That's a red. All underwear are white chips, and that's
fifty. Any problems with that?"
	Gia's words had been spoken in a no nonsense, clipped voice. Her soft brown
eyes were now flat and emotionless, a perfect surface that gave nothing
away. The dark haired girl had donned her poker face, and was ready for
serious business.
	In her tiny hands was the deck of cards, transformed into a thing of magic
by her strong, knowledgeable fingers. Gia knew that at heart poker was a war
of nerves, and the game most often went to the one who was most adept at
messing with the other player's mind. In that spirit, she was about to fire
the first shot of the war.
	As she was talking Gia had taken the cards and cut them one handed, her
long fingers managing the Charlie cut easily. She then took the two piles
and laid them on the table and did a basic riffle shuffle, cut them again
and then shuffled them dovetail style. She picked them up in one hand and
let them fall into the other in an overhand shuffle. For a finale she topped
it by bending the deck in the palm of one hand and then shooting it across
space to the other in a perfect Russian shuffle.
	She tapped the deck against the table to straighten it, fanned it one
handed, and then used both hands to form a perfect S-shaped fan. She tapped
them straight again, then used a thumb to flip the top card off the deck and
onto the table. The card landed face up, and was the ace of spades. She lay
the cards on the table and gave them a practiced swipe that spread them in a
perfect arch, then picked up the discarded ace and used it to lift the end
of the spread up, then walked the flip up and down the spread from one end
to the other and back again. Then she swiped the cards again into a
perfectly stacked deck and leaned back in her chair, glancing at her
opponents to judge their reactions.
	If she had thought her little display of dexterity would have overawed the
D&D Kings, she must have been very disappointed.
	Milo, Kenny and Swenson sat sprawled in their seats, their whole body
language crying patient but unimpressed. Artie, though, once again had that
confident smirk on his face. He pushed his glasses back up on his nose with
one finger, then leaned forward and crossed his arms on the table.
	"Actually yes, we do have a problem. When we play Hold 'em, it's a $5/$10
game. That's a five dollar bet on the flop and the preflop, and a ten on the
river and the fall. But everyone's stake is way too limited for that. With
four rounds of betting for each hand, the game could be over in ten minutes.
I propose that for this game we stick to simple five card draw, one eyed
Jacks are wild, with a five dollar ante and Jacks or better to open. Also a
twenty dollar limit on raises, and all limits can be lifted if at any time
the majority of players votes it. Agreed?"
	Gia and Becka both felt something tighten in their stomachs, as they
realized that Joe had been right. These guys did know how to play poker. And
what's more they had seen past Gia's little card juggling trick for the
flash that it was, and the first round of the mind game had gone to Artie.
No cards had been dealt, and they were already down in points.
	But the game had to go on, so after a brief and totally silent
conversation, Becka nodded and answered.
	"Agreed. But we also have one more condition. Joe is sitting this game out.
He can stay and maybe handle the snacks, but he doesn't play. For the next
week he's a guest in our house, and we don't want him having to face our Dad
after having been in a game of strip poker with his daughters."
	Artie and the rest of the Kings drew back and huddled briefly. Joe was
definitely the best poker player among them. But his loyalties were
definitely in question, so it was probably best for them that he wasn't
going to play. After a brief conference, Artie turned back to the table and
nodded. With a sigh of immense relief, Joe got up from the table and took a
seat on the back of the couch.
	"Alright then," Artie smiled, looking around at his game playing compadres.
He pushed his chair away from the table and crossed one leg over the other,
then started to take off his shoes and socks. The other Kings quickly
followed his example, grinning widely, and soon a pile of still warm
footwear had grown in the center of the card table. Eagerly, they turned
towards the two girls and waited for them to follow suit. Artie's next
comment caused his friends to snicker behind their hands.
	"We'll take twenty dollars each in chips. How much can you girls handle?"
	Becka rolled her eyes, then pushed back from the table and stood up. She
grabbed the pile of socks and shoes and tossed them to the floor, then
pointedly wiped her hands on her pants when she was done. She glanced down
at Gia, who with a nod rose also. They looked down at the boys across the
table from them, then without a word both girls grabbed the hems of their
shirts and pulled them over their heads in one fluid motion. With a flip
they sent the garments to the side of the table opposite from where Becka
had dumped the four sets of shoes and socks.
	Standing there wearing nothing above the waist but two lacey bras, and
feeling the weight of stunned eyes on them, they fought to keep their own
expressions neutral as Becka answered.
	"We'll take twenty five dollars in chips, Artie. Each."
			* * *
	"Damn it, you're bluffing again. She's bluffing!" Avery Swenson whined,
shifting in his seat uncomfortably. His bony, sallow chest was so pale that
it seemed to glow white under the overhead lights, as he crossed his arms to
cover himself. He was being careful not to show the cards in his hand, but
from the grimace on his face when he looked himself, it was obvious he
wasn't very happy with them.
	"There's only one way you're gonna find out, Swenson. You got to pay to see
cards in this game." Becka's answer was said in a casual voice, with almost
no inflection to it. She sounded bored. She was leaning her elbows on the
table, her own cards held negligently just below the level of her face,
which was as completely unreadable as her voice.
Avery tried to sneak a glance at the blond girl's cards, but as if by
coincidence Becka leaned a bit farther forward. Against his will he felt his
eyes forced down from the cards to the fascinating depths of her cleavage,
that enticing valley between the two soft mountains of Becka's breasts.
Avery swallowed dryly, feeling a drop of sweat tickle past the corner of his
eye.
	"I-I need to buy more chips."
	"Then buy some," Becka shifted in her seat and leaned forward even more.
Avery flinched, then carefully laid his cards face down on the velvet. He
dropped his hands below the table, and everyone there could hear it as he
unbuckled his pants. He managed to take them off without standing up or
exposing himself, and then tossed them onto the growing pile on the floor.
On the other side of the table still lay two women's shirts, and nothing
else.
	Gia had already folded earlier, and was manning the bank. She deliberately
counted out twenty five dollars in chips and passed them to Avery, who was
beginning to get a wild look in his eyes. He took the chips, then tossed in
a five dollar bkue and announced, "Call! Two pair, Jacks and sevens."
	All eyes went to the hand Avery had laid out, then swiftly traveled back to
Becka's cards. She paused, letting the moment build, and then casually laid
her own cards face up on the felt. Two pair, tens and threes, and the fifth
card was a one eyed Jack. A wild card.
	"Full boat, you lose, I win," was Becka's only comment, to be met by a
chorus of disgusted groans. Which tapered off as the blond girl leaned over
the table to draw in her pot.
	Joe had long ago given up trying to hide his grin. He had taken his chair
and moved to a position where he had a clear view of the game, and also of
the two half naked girls who were his friends. This had been by far one of
the most amusing hours he had ever spent, and he intended to milk it for all
that it was worth.
	Not that the Cameron sisters were actually showing all that much, he
silently amended, certainly a lot less than could be found on any of the
many public beaches or pool sides that were everywhere in California.
Bicycle shorts and a bra covered a significant amount more than did a French
cut bikini. But the fact that it was underwear, something both private and
forbidden, seemed to make it much more enticing than simple swimsuits. At
least the Kings seemed to think so.
	It was absolutely hilarious! From the moment Becka and Gia had stripped off
their shirts the Kings had stumbled, and been unable to gain back their
stride ever since. Forget teaming up to steam roll the girls, Milo and his
friends were barely able to function at all. And although the sisters hadn't
had to remove any more clothing, their assault on the Kings did not stop
there. They seemed to have a whole repertoire of vamp moves that they could
haul out, and used them freely to turn the opposition into a pile of
quivering adolescent hormones.
Becka may have had the larger breasts, which she used to good advantage, but
Gia was no slouch in the seduction department either. If anything her
tactics were even more overt than her sister's. While examining her cards
she would trace the tiny pink tip of her tongue ever so slowly across her
upper lip, or pick up a dewy can of soda and rub it over her chest and
throat, complaining about how hot it was in there. Her most distracting
tactic, though, was to reach out and stroke Becka's arm or fondle a lock of
her hair. Slowly and sensuously, and in such a nonchalant fashion as to
suggest that it was all an unconscious act, which nobody was buying for a
second.
	Joe got a chance to contribute, too. During a snack run to the kitchen he
had raided all the cabinets, and found an open bag of Tootsie Pop suckers.
He had brought two back to the girls who had fallen on them eagerly, and
proceeded to do things to the candy on a stick that had made Kenny Washburn
bang his head against the top of the table. Repeatedly.
	The game was winding down now, or maybe it was more like it was reaching
it's fever pitch. Only two of the Kings still had their pants, and the
atmosphere had grown tense with the smell of nervous sweat. The outcome of
the game was foregone, so Joe decided to relax and do some long overdue soul
searching.
	So what was he really feeling, when he looked at Becka Jackson? He wasn't
afraid of her anymore, he knew that at least. She no longer made him feel
nervous, and in fact he had gotten to be comfortable in her presence. He
liked being with her. But did his feelings it go farther than that?
	If he was going to be honest with himself, he knew he had developed a crush
on her, an infatuation, and maybe it had been for all the wrong reasons. She
had protected him, after all, had saved him from the worse thing that he
could ever imagine happening. Was that it, was he simply clinging to her for
protection? Like some frightened little kid hiding behind his mommy? It
embarrassed him to think that could be what he was feeling, but at the same
time a part of him had to admit there was some truth there. And yet he knew
that it was more complicated than that.
	Was it sex, then? Becka was hot, there was no denying it, just look at what
she was doing to Milo and the Kings. He liked looking at her now, underneath
the overhead lights of Milo's game room. She was all gold hair and delicate
pink lace, with eyes so deep they looked like holes in an impossibly blue
sky. Her skin seemed to glow like the moon, and he knew instinctively that
it would be the softest thing he had ever touched, if her ever got up the
nerve to do so. Oh yes, he was definitely aware of just how beautiful Becka
Jackson was.
	But no, that wasn't all it was, either. In their own ways Gia and Tristen
were just as beautiful, but he didn't feel anywhere near the attraction for
them that he felt for Becka. So it had to be more than just a teenage libido
at work.
	As he thought more on it he had a sudden flash of memory, back to that
traumatic day almost four years ago when he and Becka had first crossed
paths. He reran the entire experience all over again in his mind, the
beating, the humiliation. That total sense of loss that he had held at bay
ever since the Dearborn PD cop had knocked on their door, to tell him about
the damned fire that had left him all alone. All of it falling in on him
like an avalanche, while he sat there in the mud and cried his soul out in
front of the whole school. Make that the whole world.
	With a start Joe came back to himself, back to the game room at Milo
Michaels house. He blinked, looking around, realized that only a minute or
two had passed while he was lost in memory. Nothing had changed, and yet he
felt everything had. But what?
	It hit him so suddenly that he wouldn't have been surprised if one of those
cartoon light bulbs had suddenly appeared above his head. For years the
memory of that day had been like an infected wound, painful and raw, which
he had tried to ignore and never to look at. And yet there had always been
the compulsion to do just that, to peel back the bandage and probe the
swollen red flesh, knowing the pain that would follow but helpless against
the urge to worry at it and make it bleed. And that was just what he had
done now.
	And it hadn't hurt a bit.
	The bite of shame and humiliation, the rage at his helplessness and the
girl who had caused it, was an automatic. As much a reflex as blinking in
strong light, and yet this time it hadn't happened. The wound was still
there, still somewhere unpleasant where he didn't want to go, but that was
all. That wound had scarred over, was still a little tender but essentially
healed. And he realized that it had been that way for some time now.
	And so, what, he had forgiven her? Okay, yeah. Maybe he had, and maybe
that's what he was feeling. Becka was obviously sorry for what she had done
to him, had probably been sorry for all of these years. After that one day
she hadn't so much as shoved him in the halls, or even made any sort of
threat against him. Not the behavior he was used to from the rest of the
thugs and bullies at Roosevelt.
	Joe sighed, and felt something like peace settle over him, glad that he had
finally figured it out. Becka made him feel safe at a time when he was the
most threatened, and she was also a beautiful woman. But most of what he was
feeling was simply the end of a curse, one that had hung over his head like
a dark cloud for years. Becka had been the author of that curse, but she had
also extended herself to remove it. He may not know what he felt for the
blonde girl, but he did know that it wasn't love, and it wasn't lust.
	He looked up and saw, just a few feet away, the two girls sitting next to
each other. His lips twisted wryly at the sight. Gia was once again stroking
her sister's arm, but he was pretty sure that it was no longer just a ploy
to mess with the Kings. It was now the unconscious caress of a lover, and
what's more, Becka was leaning into it. So it was probably a good thing that
Joe wasn't in love with her after all. Talk about a lost cause!
			* * *
	The game had been progressing rapidly while Joe had ruminated. Kenny
Washburn and Avery Swenson were now officially out of the game, and were
sitting naked and shivering in their chairs, pressed up as close to the
safety of the table as they could get. Art Julian and Milo still held grimly
on, both down to their Fruit of the Looms and Artie's ridiculous Viking
helmet. The girls had already made it clear that they would not accept the
helmet as legitimate stakes, but Artie had stubbornly wore it throughout the
game.
	Even as Joe watched, Milo slid his chair a scant two inches from the table
and began to contort his skinny body, trying to remove his own underwear
without exposing himself. He finally managed the difficult task and, with
some shred of dignity still intact, he tossed the all cotton whites into the
pile along with the other clothing that had gone before. Without a word he
held out his hand palm up, while Gia filled it with fifty dollars worth of
chips.
	The new infusion of cash didn't help much. In twenty minutes Milo was also
out of the game, leaving only Artie to play against the girls. But the
Dungeon Master had won a few hands himself, and had somewhat rebuilt his
stake. Not enough to win, perhaps, but maybe enough to drag the game past
five o'clock, when the Cameron girls had said that they needed to leave.
Unfortunately for Artie, his need to boast forced him to give the plan away.
	"I'll admit that for girls, you've played a pretty good game so far. And
your little strip tease at the beginning, that  was a great diversion. But
the sad fact is, you don't win unless I lose everything within the next
twenty minutes. And we all know that I'm more than good enough to keep this
game going that long. So what do you girls say? No one has really lost yet,
we can put down our cards and all go home winners. "
	Although she didn't show it, Gia was fuming on the inside. Damn it, that
smirk was back again! It just wasn't fair, she thought, Artie had been the
biggest pain in the ass of all the Kings, and he was the only one of them
who didn't have to strip down and take it. And he was wrong, too, about
there being no losers. If Art Julian managed to walk out of there and still
be wearing that insufferably smug look, then they would have lost, period.
Fighting to hide a scowl, Gia looked back to the table and tried to estimate
how big Artie's stake was.
	For Becka there was no need to look, she already knew exactly how much
money was on the table. With her strange affinity for juggling numbers in
her head, she knew without thinking that there were $480 worth of chips on
the table. She herself had $180, Gia had $170, and Artie had $130 to drag
his feet with. And he still had one last article of clothing left, his
underwear, to buy another fifty dollars in chips. But Artie was right, he
would easily stretch this out until it was time for them to leave, without
having to go that far. Which wouldn't do at all, because Becka had plans for
those drawers.
	Okay, plan C then.
	"You really like to hear yourself talk, don't you, Artie? Too bad you never
say anything worth listening to. But you're right about one thing, time is
getting kinda short, so let's kick it up a little. I'm proposing that we
drop the limit on raising. All agreed?"
	"Hey!"
	"Agreed," Gia put in, smiling. She didn't know what Becka had in mind, but
she trusted her and was willing to follow her lead. Besides, she liked the
fact that Artie was no longer smiling.
	"But- but you can't do that!"
	"Yeah, she can, Dude," Milo grinned. "Said yourself that the limit could be
dropped if the majority of players want to."
	"But there's only two of them!"
	"An' there's only three players left in the game." The other Kings were
nodding, determined to see that the person who had gotten them into this
mess wasn't going to get away with any scrap of his dignity intact.
	It was Gia's turn to deal, and she had already shuffled the deck while
Artie was sputtering in denial. Now she quickly dealt the next hand,
flashing everyone a pleasant smile. Artie picked up his cards like they were
going to bite.
	The chips clicked together in the center of the table on the ante, as the
players drew their cards. Gia took two, and Artie asked for three. After a
glance at her cards Becka elected to stand pat. Gia opened the pot with
fifty dollars, the highest bid of the night. Artie seemed to blanche, but he
saw her fifty and raised five. Becka saw that, and raised another forty!
Together with the five dollar ante, that meant she and anybody else who
played would have at least a hundred dollars in the pot.
	Artie had to grit his teeth to keep from swearing. He should have folded on
that last bet, or at least called, but now he was stuck with it. When the
betting came around to him he would either have to fold or risk losing most
of his stake. He looked again at his cards, but had to first wipe the sweat
out of his eyes. Three Jacks, not a bad hand, although the one eyed wild
card was wasted. Gia had taken two cards, which meant she probably had three
of a kind also, but the odds were against her three being higher than his.
But Becka hadn't taken any cards, which could mean a bluff, or something
that was a lot better than his hand. So should he fold, or should he call?
Even folding would take away half of his remaining stake.
	But the choice was taken out of his hands, when Gia saw Becka's raise and
again raised it by forty dollars! Ten dollars more than Artie had left in
his stake, which meant he would either have to fold now or buy more chips.
And he was so sure that Becka was bluffing! But he didn't dare take the
chance. "Fold."
	It wasn't much of a surprise when the blonde girl folded also, and Gia
happily raked in the highest pot of the night. Artie did the math quickly.
He had a measly seventy dollars left, while Becka still had a hundred and
twenty, which left Gia with, let's see... almost three hundred dollars to
play with. Artie groaned, but a quick glance at the clock showed that he
only had to stall for another fifteen minutes. He could do that, even if all
he did was fold on every hand. He could still get out of this without having
to do the Full Monty. Artie felt the knot in his stomach start to loosen,
but then Gia tightened it back up with an extra hard twist.
	"It's getting late, so let's make it a little more interesting. I propose
we raise the ante from five dollars to twenty five dollars. Becka?"
	"Agreed."
	"NO!"
	"Sorry, Artie, you're out voted. And stop making those funny noises, it was
your idea to make the limits scaleable."
			* * *
	The next two hands passed for Arthur Julian like time in a dentist's chair.
Each time he anteed up, and each time he folded as soon as the play came
around to him, lowering his pile of chips with the inevitability of the tide
going out. He tried to stretch the play for as long as he could, but the
girls set a brisk pace, and when it came his turn to deal Becka's warning
glare made sure that he couldn't waste too much time. By the third hand
Artie only had twenty dollars left, and couldn't make the ante. With a
miserable little sigh he pulled back from the cover of the table, taking the
plastic Viking helmet off his head and using it to cover his nakedness, as
he slipped his briefs off and tossed them into the pile.
	Kenny shook his head in disgust. "Aw, Geez, Artie! Now nobody else can ever
were that thing."
	"Screw you, Viromir! I'm the only decent Dungeon Master we ever had,
anyway." Artie was scowling, concentrating on the chips Gia was counting out
to him. Seventy dollars in his stake. Seventy dollars, and only five minutes
left to play. Yeah, he could do this. He could do this easy.
	Becka was reaching under the table, and in a moment brought out her purse.
She held it on her lap and began to fish inside, then brought out her cell
phone, which prompted Gia to ask, "What are you doing?"
	"Calling Dad. I'm going to tell him we're going to be home a little late."
	Artie went as pale as a corpse. The rest of the Kings began to snicker.
	While Becka was talking on her cell, Gia leaned forward and caught Artie's
eyes with a gaze as hard as a knife. There were no more wanton displays of
cleavage, or any of the other tricks the girls had been using. The time for
all that was so far past, that none of the King's still noticed either
girl's lack of clothing. But they all listened very closely to Gia's softly
spoken words.
	"You didn't think we'd really call it a day and go home, did you, Artie?
No, not when we're this close, And not after all the crap you guys put me
through today.
	"I came over here to meet some of Joe's friends and to maybe play a game or
two with them. But instead you guys had a lot of fun setting me up and
humiliating me. Well now you know how it feels, and I don't see you laughing
anymore.
	"Now we can stay here another half hour, or we can play some real poker.
One last hand, you and me, no draws. If you win we walk out of here and you
get to say you didn't lose everything to a couple of girls. But if I win you
admit we whipped your geeky asses, fair and square. Oh, and we get that
stupid horned hat, too."
	Artie scowled at her sullenly. "And what if I refuse, and make you guys
play this out?" I, he had said, not we. It was clear that Artie knew the
other Kings weren't behind him any more.
	Becka answered the boy's question, covering her cell phone with her free
hand. "If you do that, smart ass, then when we leave we'll take all our
winnings with us." She finished by nodding her head in the direction of the
pile of discarded nerd clothing. This time Artie wasn't the only one who
bordered on the edge of panic.
	"You wouldn't," Milo whispered, in a voice that said he really thought they
would. Becka didn't answer, she just looked over at Joe with an arched
eyebrow.
	"In a heartbeat, Milo," he confirmed.
	Artie's only reply was to wearily lift the sacred symbol of the Dungeon
Master from his lap and lay it in the center of the table. In a voice that
sounded hollow with surrender he mumbled, "Just deal the damned cards."
			* * *
	"Damn it, Gia, I'm trying to drive! Will you stop trying to put that stupid
thing on my head?"
	"But you look good in it! Doesn't it look good on her, Joe?"
	"I look like an idiot! And did you even wash that thing off? I saw where
it's been, you know."

(continued)