|
Cock-Gambling in Vegas (Version of R Roulette) NOTE to Readers: This story idea is not mine, but from "Coinflipper21" on MSN Group > Castrix > (I think the group no longer exists) - submitted 4 Apr 06. I did some major re-writes on it. If Coinflipper21 is here, speak up, it's mostly your story. Great idea. - Finder "None of you are real gamblers. If you really had balls, you'd play a game where losing means losing - and you can't take it back!" My wife Sandra was a little drunk, but not so much that she didn't realize how provocative the challenge would sound to our friends. A long weekend in Las Vegas had left most of us with lighter wallets and a weary cynicism that was convinced there were no thrills left for us in this jaded town of sin and corruption. We had convened at my time-share condo on the last night of our weekend, for drinks, some poker, and a soft-porn DVD that left us all aroused and antsy for something a bit more edgy, more extreme ... if anyone had the energy and the nerve to initiate it. A challenge like that, coming from one of the women, usually started something wild. Our tight little group of friends has had more than a few adventures together, many of a sexual nature. There was nervous laughter from the six couples in the livingroom. Wayne took a long pull from his Corona, wiped his mouth, and objected firmly: "Well, if you're proposing something like Russian Roulette, you can count me out!" "Don't be silly, Bob," my wife Sandra said, a bit condescendingly. "The problem with Russian Roulette is that the loss is more than final, it's total - you know, fatal for the loser. I'm proposing a variation where the loss is permanent - but not at all fatal." I realized where she was going with this - and felt a thrill run down my spine, and all the way to my toes. She was really going to do it! I joined in: "Anyone can gamble money. You can blow your cash stash, but you can always go back and make more. Where's the risk? Where's the thrill in playing a money game where it doesn't really matter if you win or lose?" The others were staring at us, exuding skepticism, but failing to hide their burning curiosity. "OK, I'll bite" said Rita, after a long pause. "What's your game?" "Why don't we all go up to our room and we'll show you. If you have the guts, we can play" Sandra challenged them. Sandra and I stood, and together we led the way toward the stairs. I could feel tension building in my belly, and I'm sure only the alcohol - and our shared lust for adventure - kept Sandra and me from chickening out at that moment. I wasn't certain any of the other couples took the idea seriously - feared momentarily that they would all decide to stay put - but their curiosity got the best of them and in a minute we all converged on the large master bedroom upstairs. "OK" said Tom impatiently, "How do you play your version of 'Not-Russian Roulette'?" Sandra headed straight for the door of the large walk-in closet, and she paused dramatically for a second before opening the door with a flourish. "With this!" She wheeled a tall piece of equipment out of the closet, rolling on its casters. It was immediately identifiable by all as a miniature guillotine, crafted of polished walnut with brass trim, over six feet tall. And it had a lunette just the right height, and a round opening just big enough for a ... well, everyone instantly knew what it was just big enough for. Only a man possessed the appendage for which this peculiar guillotine was fashioned. "Damn!" said Tom, "A penis guillotine." Susan, Tom's wife, walked up to it and caressed the oiled wood frame. She turned to Sandra, blushed and asked, "Does this really work? I mean, it's just for show, isn't it?" My wife walked to the mini-fridge under the TV, opened the freezer door, and brought out a hot dog, frozen solid with a sprinklling of frost on it. She tapped it twice on the guillotine frame to show that it was hard as a rock, then placed it through the lunette, turned a key at the top of the frame, and pulled the trip lever in front of the machine. The blade fell, there was a muffled thud, and half the hot dog fell into the little basket at the base of the machine, cleanly severed. The onlookers were visibly startled. They were all silent for a moment. The erotic tension in the room was palpable. My erection had started minutes before, when I saw Sandra was going to go through with this challenge to our friends. Now my penis felt more than half erect, rising rapidly and aching for release. I noticed that some of the other guys were developing protrusions in their pants. Tonya glanced at my crotch and suddenly laughed, excited and nervous, as she saw my obvious arousal. "Proof that men are irrational!" she declared. "Looking at a machine that could chop off your cocks, you guys get erections!" She reached toward her husband Evan, giving the prominent bulge in his pants a firm squeeze. "Evan, honey - this is getting me so hot, this could be a delicious fantasy, but are you sure you're ready to gamble your penis? Is it worth the thrill?" I had been thinking about this for months, ever since I built the machine. "Let's make this rationally interesting too", I said. I pulled a wad of cash out of my back pocket, counted out ten $100 bills, and tossed the folded billls onto the bed. "I'll put $1000 into the kitty. Anyone who wants to play puts their cash into the pile, and their cock on the line. It's a game of chance. The couple that 'loses' takes the lot - if we all play, that's $6000." My wife hauled the rope down, which raised the blade via a pulley mechanism, and latched it at the top of the machine. "The secret of the game", she said, " is this key." As she said this she took the small, gold colored key out of the latch mechanism at the top of the guillotine. "You see" she said, "without the key turned in the lock, the blade cannot fall." She tripped the lever as she spoke; there was an audible click, but the blade hung motionless. "This is how we play," I said, and showed the group the bowl with thirty-five identical-looking keys in it. My wife dropped the key she was holding into the bowl and I shook it up. "The key she just dropped in the bowl is the only one that releases the blade." I held the bowl out to my wife and she picked one out. Then I held to bowl out to Susan. "Go ahead, take one. The odds are thirty-five to one." She hesitated a moment, loooked her husband in the eye, then selected a key. The rest of the wives looked at their husbands and then Steve's wife selected a key without hesitation. "Thirty-four to one," I said. "Let's get naked," said my wife, and she pulled off her top. The pert little nipples on her breasts stood up, and her faced was flushed with obvious arousal. Allan objected. "Wait a minute! Are we really going through with this?" But the women were already pulling off their clothes - pants, tops, and bras flying onto the bed. These ladies clearly were ready to play. "Get over there!" said Steve's wife, as she pulled his pants down from the waist. His erection, free at last, sprang up for all to admire. "Here's the game," my wife instructed. "First, we bring him to the machine." My wife and Marcia pushed him up to the machine, guided his rigid member through the lunette, cuffed his ankles and wrists and pulled the strap tightly around his butt so he could not back away from the lunette. "Now, you put the key in the lock, turn it and then give him a blow job...possibly his last. When he starts to cum, you pull down on the trip lever." "Wait a minute," said Steve. " What if the blade comes down? I could bleed to death!" "Don't worry," said my wife, as she pulled the medical kit out of our bureau drawer. Everyone knew she had worked 4 years in the surgical unit at Springfield Hospital. "I have the training, and we have the equipment to stop the bleeding and sew up your penis stump ... antibiotics, anaesthetic. Just don't expect me to sew it back on! Oh, and if you loose, I hope you're a good pussy licker - you're going to lick her pussy for the rest of your life." Steve's wife knelt in front of the guillotine and went to work on him with a vengeance. It took Steve only about three minutes to start shooting his load into her mouth. He cried out once, convulsing in his sexual frenzy, as he spurted what might be his final ejaculation. Without letting his penis out of her mouth, Marcia pulled the lever. "CLICK!" Nothing. Sweat poured off of Steve. As the girls released him I asked, "Tell us. Wasn't that the best orgasm you ever had?" "I hate to say it but - yes!" He gave me a wry, slightly astonished grin. He was sweating and his legs visibly trembled, his still-erect cock jiggling from side to side. Sandra smiled at me and said, "Your turn." I think my penis jumped an inch higher with those words. Sandra and I had done a few "trial runs" as a form of erotic play, after the machine was finished - but always without a key in the guillotine mechanism. It always had the "safety" on, when we played. Now, we were playing for real - playing for keeps. I stepped up to the machine. My cock now felt so hot and hard, I wondered if it might burst. I pushed it slowly through the aperture in the lunette, and Sandra seized it from the front, pulling it firmly toward her. It seemed to barely fit; I felt the edges of the hole scraping the skin of my rigid shaft. My pubic hair scrunched into the smooth wood above the opening. Behind me, Marcia pulled the strap tight around my buttocks, and Susan was fastening the velcro bands around my wrists and ankles. I had felt all this before ... but it had never felt like this before! I felt like I was floating, feverish, a sexual high that at the same time focused all sensation into my penis. I felt the blood thrumming along its entire length, from its roots deep in my perineum to the swollen glans. The fact that eleven others were looking at it now, protruding through the guillotine... I looked down at it, realized that its rhythmic throbbing, in time to my rapid heartbeat, was visible to all. Sandra approached, looked into my eyes, a mixture of love, vibrant arousal, lust, a hint of fear. "Are you ready, love?" Her fingers found my hardness, danced up and down its length. "Oh lordy, am I ready!" I said, breathing hard. She blew me a kiss and went down on her knees. My penis disappeared into her mouth. Her tongue slurped up and down the sensitive underside, making me moan involuntarily. Her lips slipped up and down its length, leaving it glistening with her saliva. She sucked hard on the knob, pulling away, and I felt the pull all the way to the roots of my penis, as if she was going to suck it right out of my body. Then she pushed forward, and her lips came nearly all the way to the base, her nose almost touching the guillotine crossbar. I felt her teeth lightly grazing the skin, top and bottom, as she took me in. I groaned at the sensation, and then was startled to feel her teeth slowly biting into my shaft, top and bottom, slowly closing on my rigid flesh, sinking deeper. I often like a little nibbling and biting - had I been less aroused, this would have been painful - but in my transcendent sexual high, the sensation of her teeth biting down hard only increased my fever, brought me closer to orgasm. A vision formed of her jaws closing, lovely white teeth sinking deep into my turgid flesh, penetrating the hard shaft, blood and cum spraying simultaneously, her lovely semen-smeared face jerking away with my complete penis still in her mouth behind her clenched teeth ... I felt orgasm building, throbbing starting deep in my perineum. Her jaws relaxed their pressure a little; with my penis still clamped firmly between them, she growled softly, like an animal in heat, and shook her head from side to side, yanking my penis violently back and forth. I heard a woman's voice say "Way to go, Sandra! Bite his cock right off!" Several others laughed and applauded; Steve joked "Yeah! but does he get the money if she bites it off?" Sandra tried not to laugh, almost choking, her mouth still full with me. She resumed slurpy wet sliding, tongue caressing the sensitive underside. She used one hand on it, two fingers and a thumb clamped firmly around the shaft where it emerged from the lunette, stroking the length that wasn't in her mouth. Between strokes, I could see the deep dark indentations where her teeth had sunk into the upper shaft. The sensations and the sight began to take me over the edge; I groaned and thrashed helplessly against my bonds, felt a guyser building in my perineum and launch a blast down the length of my penis. Sandra backed away instantly; my knob popped out of her mouth, and she aimed it at her chest as a jet of semen shot out, splattering against her breasts. Someone in the group was cheering; she pushed her mouth hard onto my penis again, sucking violently as my second blast hit the back of her throat. She yanked the release lever. My heart jumped at the sound of a loud "CLICK!", as my penis continued spurting into her mouth. In a second it might be severed completely, and it didn't care ... I realized the blade still hung, threatening but motionless. I was going to keep it ... this time! Sandra swallowed my cum, kept sucking until the contractions slowed, and carefully licked me clean. I was shaking when they loosed my bonds and let me down. My whole body ached and trembled. My erection didn't go down for at least 15 minutes. And so it went, until all of the guys had a turn under the blade. Watching them, and their women sucking on them, I got aroused, my aching penis growing long and full again as we lounged across the bed. Noticing, Sandra caressed me gently. I became hard under her gentle and expert touch. "How many time can your husband cum from a blow job in one night?" Susan asked my wife. "Oh, I don't know. At least twice." "I think that Steve can too. Let's go again." "You realize," I cautioned, "that the odds on the next pick are only twenty-nine to one." "So?" said all the wives in chorus. "We'll take 'em!" shouted one. Allan's wife turned to him, gave him a passionate kiss, and announced, "We play tonight and tomorrow night until someone looses." At the end of the weekend, I am still intact, but the girls want to play again. |