Some of the boys and I have a weekly game of poker. We only play for chicken stakes but that doesn't mean that the competition isn't ferocious at times. We were expected to gloat over a successful bluff, rubbing our victim's face in it. Who cares if the pool was only a few dollars? Winning was the thing.
We didn't always play at the same place, moving around depending on who was available. My place tended to be the default site for the game, mainly because I was the only one unmarried and with my own place.
The ages of the guys attending varied quite widely, too, ranging from Mike at eighteen to Barry at about forty. At thirty, I was right in the middle. We had about a dozen members for our little game, though it was rare to get more than half a dozen guys available on any particular night. On the few occasions that we did get too many we'd just set up another table. When the losers were whittled away the two tables would merge into a single setting.
One night we were setting up a game at my place when Barry rocked up with this kid in tow. We looked at the kid and the instant decision was no way was she playing. My place, so it was up to me to render a formal objection.
"Ah, Barry, there is no way that we're going to let some juvenile take part in the game, especially a girl. She'll get all teary when she goes broke and expect us to refund her losses."
"I am not a juvenile," I was promptly informed in a voice as cold as ice. "I am over eighteen and a better player than my father. I don't lose, but if such an odd event was to occur I would not weep over it or expect to have my losses refunded. You only play for pocket money, anyway."
"Um, she's right, Jake," said Barry. "She is a better player than me. I've told her about our games and she reckons she can take you all to the cleaners."
I looked at the others and shrugged. Put that way we had to let her play or look as though we were afraid to play her. I nodded an assent and no-one demurred.
"So, does the kid have a name or do we just call her kid?"
"Jessie, this is Jake. He's our host tonight. Everyone, this is Jessie, my oldest." Barry then went through the roll, introducing each player to Jessie. I could practically see her mind working as she looked at each player carefully, tying them to their name.
We finished up with six players, including Jessie. After the first round we were all about even, Jessie fitting right in, proving to be just as cut-throat as everyone else. At that point I excused myself from the table.
"There's something I have to attend to," I told them. "Continue playing and I should be back after a hand or two."
I left, grabbing our bible as I went. Our bible held the official rules for poker, just in case there was a dispute. I had a copy on my PC and I had an urge to add an appendix.
Sitting at the PC I wrote my appendix, giving careful consideration to the wording. I then printed it and stapled it to the back of our bible and returned to the game, slipping the bible back onto its shelf as I did so.
The game progressed, money moving back and forth and eventually Barry was wiped out. OK, he was only five dollars down, but he was gone. He sat and watched for a while, obviously hoping that Jessie would crash out so he could go home, but she was doing OK, being ahead a reasonable amount. Eventually he suggested that she might like to call it a night. She had other ideas, protesting that she was winning.
"Ah, Barry, if you want to go I can run Jessie home later," I offered. "It'll only take me a couple of minutes."
Barry glanced at Jessie and then back to me.
"Well, if you're sure you don't mind?"
Jessie just snorted and waved him away. I grinned and nodded to him, and Barry shrugged and departed, our little group now down to five. The game went on and Mike was the next to fall by the wayside. He sat back and watched for a while and it was while Jessie was dealing that I saw him stiffen and look harder at her. I managed to catch his eye and shook my head, effectively telling him to shut up. He looked back at me, gave a slow nod, said farewell to the group and departed.
We played on, Jessie getting more and more confident as the game progressed. She and I were both well ahead, with Jessie probably slightly better off. The other two guys fell by the wayside, complimented Jessie on her skills, and departed, leaving the two of us to play.
It was Jessie's deal and it quickly became obvious that she was going all in with this hand, raising quickly when it was her turn to call.
"OK," I said. "Let's finish this."
I pushed all the cash in front of me into the middle. She grinned and did the same, and we now had a grand jackpot of thirty dollars going.
"Ladies first," I said, indicating she should lay down her hand.
She did, smirking broadly, proudly displaying four kings. She was reaching to grab the pot when I stopped her.
"A moment, if you don't mind," I said, laying out my hand.
She stared at the four aces, apparently not able to believe what she was seeing. I was raking the pot over to my side of the table when she started to protest. Only trouble was, she didn't know what to say, and just finished up stuttering.
"What's the problem?" I asked. "Aces do beat kings, you know."
"But, but, but. . ."
"Oh, I get it," I said, as the light dawned. "You're upset because I'm not playing the hand you dealt me."
She went real quiet at that comment.
"It's generally accepted in a game like ours that anything goes, but if you're going to cheat you need to learn how to do it properly. You're lucky that I was the first one to spot what you were doing but I can assure you that I wasn't the only one. The others would have called you on it but I waved them off. If you attend future games you'd better play it straight right down the line, because they'll be watching you like hawks."
"You cheated," she blustered, glaring at my four aces.
"Really? And you'd know that how?"
The only way she could know was to admit she was cheating in the first place and had known what she dealt me. All she could do was sit back and glare.
"Not only is your cheating sub-standard," I commented as I put my winnings in my pocket, "but you are not very observant. Why don't you take a closer look at the cards on the table?"
She switched her glare from me to the cards. She finally spotted the discrepancy and I saw her stiffen.
"You, you cheat," she gasped.
My winning hand of four aces and a king meant that when you added in the four kings in her hand there was a total of five kings on the table.
"Maybe I did, but I wasn't caught at it, not like someone else I can name. I'd like you to take that little set of poker instructions," I said, pointing to our bible, "and refer to the penalties appendix at the back of it. Ah, you'll find that the penalties vary between men and women. Refer to the cheating clause. Read it aloud."
She stood up and snatched up the instructions, flopping down into her chair again. She went straight to the back and there was the appendix.
"Any player caught cheating will have the crap cheerfully kicked out of him. This applies to male players only. Female players will be given a spanking by the player who caught them. Fucking optional," she read.
"What does fucking optional mean?" she demanded.
"Just what it says. I mean, if the woman was fat, forty, and had a face that resembles a bulldog, I, personally, would opt out of the fucking. Also, while you are charming, nubile, and winsome, I am not in the habit of initiating nervous virgins, so you're safe. From the fucking, not the spanking."
"I am not a nervous virgin," she said indignantly, the slur on her womanhood apparently her first concern. "Oh, and you're not spanking me, either."
"I see. You'd rather I tell your father that he's banned from future games and explain why?"
"You wouldn't do that."
I just looked at her.
"But that wouldn't be fair. He didn't do anything."
"He brought you to the game, effectively vouching for you. If you refuse to accept your penalty then he's the bunny."
I pushed my chair back from the table, patting my lap and waited. She was furious and indignant, incensed at the notion that she was to be spanked like a recalcitrant child, but she was also capitulating. She couldn't let her father take the blame and we both knew it. She slowly stood up and was even slower walking around the table to face me.
As soon as she was within easy reach I took her arm, guiding her across my knee. One hand was firmly on her back, holding her in place. The other hand was upsetting her greatly by pulling down her yoga pants and panties.
"What the hell do you think you're doing?" she yelled at me, trying to rise but finding I could hold her in place with no problems.
"What do you think I'm doing?" I returned at her. "If I'm going to paddle a pretty young thing like you, you surely don't think I'll skip the chance to do it on your bare bottom. A very nice bottom it is, too," I added, patting it.
"Will you just get on with it?" she asked in a very put-upon voice.
"I will. No need to rush. I just wanted to assure you that I'll just be spanking you," patting her bottom, "and not fooling around here," resting my hand on her pussy.
There was an out raged squeal at that which I ignored.
"Anything to do with touching you here," I said, lightly patting her pussy, "will naturally have to wait until after the spanking."
