Hypno Casino: The Bundle (The Shining Spiral Saga)

by Nightside, Nadia

  Still, she didn't seem to get the message.

  “I’m horny,” he whispered into her ear.

  In truth, he wasn't sure whether he wanted to fuck Stephanie, or to fuck Stephanie and think about Selene. He was sure, though, that he didn't care.

  She put the magazine down briefly. “What?”

  “I said I want to have sex.”

  “Oh,” she said, surprise entering her voice. “Now? Did you take your pill?”

  “I don’t need it.”

  She shrugged. “Okay. It’s just...last time, when you said that, well...”

  He didn’t want to think about that. The stress of running a casino often had a deleterious effect on his ability to make love—so sometimes he used a little blue pill for a little extra help.

  Thinking about that hot spot of wounded pride was like anathema for his rising lust, and so he backed away from his wife.

  “Nevermind,” he said, shaking his head, halfway hoping she would talk him out of his retreat.

  “Okay!” she chirped brightly, turning back to her magazine.

  Falco walked to the kitchen and poured himself a quick, stiff drink.

  It had cheered his wife up, knowing she wouldn’t have sex with him. What was wrong with this picture?

  * * * * *

  Early the next morning, he woke up in his enormous king-sized bed to find his hot young wife already far gone from his bed. This wasn’t unusual. She had ever been an early-riser. Tall windows lined the bedroom, letting in the morning sun over his prone form.

  While Stephanie may have been an early-riser, Falco—who had been in the casino business his entire life—was well-accustomed to waking late. Most of the business he had to attend to happened late at night.

  Last night, though, for whatever reason, he had taken off from work. Instead, inspired by his wife's lackluster rejection of his lovemaking proposition, he had jerked off in the bathroom, thinking solely of Selene.

  Selene, Selene, sensational Selene. His darling, darling Selene, who he wanted more than he could measure.

  But surely that wasn't all he had done. He got back about two in the afternoon, then he propositioned his wife, then he jerked off for a while, and then he went to bed around ten...

  No. He couldn't have stroked his cock for more than seven straight hours, could he have? Just only thinking of Selene?

  He felt his cock rising again, just imagining her perfectly arranged hair, her sexy cleavage, her wonderfully placed necklace...

  Sitting up on his bed, he shook his head. It was really time to get back to work. Who knows what had happened while he was gone? At least he knew that he had left the dealings of the casino in the capable hands of...of...someone. He couldn’t remember who.

  Why couldn’t he remember who?

  God, that was probably a problem. There was chaos, no doubt. He picked up the phone near the bed, a direct line to the casino floor manager, Rick.

  “How is everything? Is anything the matter?”

  “Why, no sir. She’s done a great job.”

  “She? She who?”

  “That woman you introduced us all to yesterday afternoon. Selene. She’s wonderful. We love her. We love her, sir.” His voice had a religious sort of fervor to it.

  Confused and a bit scared, Falco hung up the phone. He got up and put on his robe, taking a measure of the day through the windows of his bedroom.

  He had a great view of the penthouse level pool—one of the perks of his position—he could see his wife sunbathing in a teensy sky-blue tankini set. And there, with her...

  There with her was Selene in a black string bikini.

  Instantly, he dropped his robe. His hand was around his cock, stroking passionately. He didn't care if anyone could see.

  Fuck, Selene was so gorgeous. He wanted her. He wanted her more than he wanted his own beautiful fucking wife, who looked as hot as she ever had in that tiny swimsuit.

  God.

  Wow. Falco could feel the insanity of his hot lust washing over his mind, cooing and purring in accented tones about how he shouldn't care about the logic of his situation. He should just surrender, surrender, surrender...

  One of the most intoxicating aspects of Selene's beauty was how it appeared so carefree, so effortless for her to look as good as she did. Wearing so little make-up, she made it seem like she woke up in the morning looking better than most women did after years of plastic surgery, perfect diet, and strenuous work-out routines.

  And that lack of effort, how it was just so easy for her to captivate him, made it all the more arousing that she had the effect on him that she did. He stroked harder, thinking about how fucking easy it was, so fucking easy to captivate him. So easy to take away his will when she was so goddamn gorgeous and perfect.

  Very clearly, he saw Selene whispering something in his wife’s ear. A lot of something, actually. It seemed like a whole speech—and Stephanie was a rapt listener, nodding and smiling blankly. All the while as Selene spoke, she also toyed with her sexy little necklace. Those little spirals out again. Falco remembered now, even though he couldn't see them clearly. Not for a single second did Stephanie’s eyes didn’t tear away from Selene’s cleavage.

  Slowly, clearly moaning, her hips gyrating with aching need, Stephanie began to finger her pussy as she watched Stephanie's spirals twist. Her fingers worked rapidly, hotly—and Stephanie had told Falco that she never even masturbated in her whole life! It was too coarse an exercise, she always said.

  But there she was, hot digits sliding in and out of her tight young cunt. Falco's strokes only got faster and faster, watching his wife finger herself.

  Stephanie's orgasm was easily seen—even with Falco not being able to hear anything. Her gorgeous head tilted back, long cries pouring out of her mouth, her entire body shaking with bliss.

  He knew that, with his windows tinted as they were, it was most likely impossible for Selene to see him. But he saw those emerald eyes of hers tilt upward—knowingly—and then she delivered a soft little wink as he stroked and stroked.

  Groaning loudly, Falco came, spurting his hot seed all over the window. Leaning against the window, his breaths fogging on the glass, he watched her casually strut away. Every step was carefully portioned-out grace.

  This woman was dangerous. And he couldn’t help but be turned on by her.

  * * * * *

  In the late afternoon, Falco made it down to his office to find Stephanie there already, along with a young black jack dealer who Falco dimly recognized.

  Stephanie wore a slim, form-fitting silk robe, draped down over the shoulders. Between the thin material of the robe and her lusciously tanned thighs showing, it was fairly obvious that she was naked beneath the rope. The sides of her breasts could be seen easily.

  Behind the desk were a number of high-definition monitors, capable of showing him almost any spot in the casino at a moment's notice. He had planned to use them to track down Selene and try to narrow down what it was she was doing in his business.

  Yes, sure, that was it. He didn't want to rip his pants off the second he saw her and jerk off uncontrollably for hours at freeze-frames of her unbelievably gorgeous body. He wanted to just spy on her.

  Sure.

  But, with Stephanie and the dealer there, he couldn't exactly do that anymore.

  “Can I help you two?” Falco began, not exactly sure what was happening.

  Had Stephanie seen or caught him, somehow, after what he had done at the window?

  No, impossible. He cleaned up thoroughly. He took a long look at the blackjack dealer—a tall fellow with broad shoulders and a dimpled chin. He had short blond hair and a confused look on his face that probably mirrored Falco's own.

  “This is Randall,” Stephanie explained. “He’s the guy who I was sleeping with while I was married to you.”

  Randall held up his hands. “That is me. Guilty as charged. It's an awful thing I've done, and I'll be sorry about it for as long as I live. Selene taught me t
hat I needed to be sorry.”

  Falco took a moment to digest all of that. Instead of rage—which he would have expected as his go-to emotion in such a circumstance—he felt only confusion.

  “Who you were sleeping with? While you were married to me?” Falco sat down on top of his desk, shaking his head. “Why all the past tense all of a sudden?”

  Stephanie slipped up on top of the desk with him, pressing her hips against his. She looked wounded. “Well, I’ve taken care of it all now. Certainly I wouldn’t bring Randall up here to see you if I wanted him around anymore, right?”

  He supposed that made some sense, but still, he was completely puzzled.

  Randall nodded eagerly. “I don't really deserve to be around anyone anymore, Mr. Falco. It's an awful thing I've done, and I'll be sorry about it for as long as I live. I'm not sure I want me around anymore either. ”

  Stephanie nodded sympathetically. “Gosh, isn't that the truth? You really are just a horrible person, Randall, for doing what you've done to my precious Johnny here. You just don't matter to me anymore. Only making my Johnny feel like a man matters to me now. I'm so glad Selene taught me that.”

  Randall nodded with her. “I'm so glad Selene taught me.”

  Their voices, combined, had taken on an oddly robotic tone that Falco found, for whatever reason, rather arousing.

  Falco tried to ignore the oddness of the situation, focusing only on the facts. “But, why are you saying you were married to me?” He rubbed his eyes for a moment. And why wasn't he angrier, for god's sake? “What’s going on with that?”

  She wrapped her hand around his crotch. His cock stiffened instinctively. God, she was a beautiful woman. He hadn't felt a lusty action like that from her in far, far too long.

  “We’ll get to that in a minute,” she purred. “Won’t you let me watch you fire Randall, first?”

  “Huh?”

  Randall stood up. “Yes, Mr. Falco. Please, fire me. I deserve it. It's an awful thing I've done, and I'll be sorry about it for as long as I live.”

  Stephanie focused only on Falco, stroking his cheeks intimately. “He’s slept with your wife, darling. He simply must be fired. You have to set an example for the rest of your workers, after all. Otherwise, they’ll all try to sleep with me. They all try anyway. There must be consequences.”

  “All my workers try to sleep with you?”

  “I can barely keep the cocks out of my face, sweetheart. Look at how fucking hot I am. You bagged a hell of a gorgeous babe with me—and everyone knows it. Now, show them who the boss is.”

  For several moments, Falco just sat there, looking at the fearful, sorrowful tinge to Randall's expression. Stephanie's pulsing strokes on his cock only became more fevered as he waited.

  She leaned forward and whispered in his ear. “It’s you, darling. You're the boss. Show him. Show us.”

  With her free hand, she pushed open her flimsy robe and suddenly started to finger her pussy, eyes gleaming with lust.

  “Won’t you please fire him?” she moaned, fingers sliding hard into her pussy. Her strokes on Falco's cock through his pants only increased. There was a sort of religious glee in her eyes.

  Falco didn't see how he had much of a choice in the matter. And a big part of him did want to fire Randall. He couldn't just let the man get away with sleeping with his wife, after all.

  “Randall,” he said, shaking his head. “I am afraid you’re fired.”

  “You're right, ” Randall said, shaking his head sadly. “I deserve it. I know I do. It's an awful thing I've done, and I'll be sorry—”

  “Shut up!” Stephanie shouted suddenly. Then she turned to Falco, a predatory glint to her smile. “Not like that,” Stephanie whispered in Falco's ear, fingering and stroking harder. “Make him sorry.”

  She was right. He had to make Randall afraid. That was what a man would do. That's what somebody who fucked Selene would do.

  He gathered all his reserves of strength, and raised his voice. “You’re fired, Randall, and you’ll never work in this town again!” He pressed a button on his desk. “Security? I need you to come throw a man out of my office and out of the casino, forever. He's dangerous, so you're going to have to use maximum force. Blacklist him when you're done with him.”

  Loud and euphoric, his wife’s orgasmic moan filled the office.

  “Oh god,” she cried, shaking and falling down on the desk, “Oh god, yeah! You showed him who's the boss! You showed him so fucking good, baby!”

  Randall, shaking his hanging head, cried for several seconds. “I’m super sorry, Mr. Falco. I really am. It's an awful thing I've done, and I'll be sorry about it for as long as I live. But don’t you worry. You don’t have to worry about me no more at all.”

  He walked out of the office—and immediately was intercepted by a team of security officers who began to beat him down to the ground. For several seconds, Falco watched, transfixed, Stephanie still stroking his cock through his pants. Randall's pained cries echoed through the walls. Then mercifully, the doors closed.

  Leaving his raging hard-on aside for a moment, Stephanie slipped off the desk—leaving a considerable wet spot from her trail of lust—and picked up a briefcase at her feet. From that, she laid out several papers for Falco to read. He picked them up, struggling not to grab Stephanie and fuck her right then and there.

  “These are divorce papers,” he said, a bit dumbfounded. “I just don't believe it. After all that, you want to divorce me?”

  “Of course I do, Johnny.” She shook her head as if he was being rather silly, like he had spilled his own bowl of cereal. “I don’t deserve to be the wife of a great man like you, do I? I just told you how I cheated on you, for god’s sake!”

  “You don’t...don’t deserve?”

  Surreptiously, she had unzipped his pants and replaced her hand on his cock—though this time, there was nothing between her silky-soft palms and the throbbing meat of his big dick.

  “Certainly not!” Stroke, stroke, stroke. “I can’t be married to you now that you know about all my infidelity. How could you possibly trust me from now on? I’ll simply have to accept your divorce. I don’t have a choice. I want you to have everything I do.”

  He looked again at the papers beneath him, struggling not to lose control to Stephanie’s amazing handjob. The papers were very clear—no settlement, no alimony, no support or payments of any kind from him to her. As a matter of fact...

  “You’re giving me all your possessions and agreeing to be my indentured servant?”

  Her strokes picked up speed at the mention of the special qualifications. He didn’t even know that indentured servitude was allowed anymore. He didn’t think anything about this divorce could have been real.

  “I thought it was only fair,” she said, “considering how little I’ve let you fuck me. I don’t know what was wrong with me.”

  “So you’re going to fuck me fifty million times?”

  The wording in the contract was very specific. After fifty million fucks, her period of service would be up.

  “Oh, I mean, maybe. I figure you’ll have your hands full with other women. There’s so many girls who would just line up to suck your big fat cock, Sir. I just put a number that would make sure I could never leave your service. At least, not until you got tired of me. I’m sure you will eventually. An important man like you must want so many different types of women. I’m so very lucky just to be considered.”

  He leaned back, putting the contract down. Closing his eyes, he tried to simply enjoy Stephanie's handjob—and did, of course, though the only woman he could really think of was Selene. Her beautiful eyes, her exquisite bust, her endless legs...

  Selene had made all this happen somehow. She had made this all happen, and she was so, so, so very gorgeous...

  “Sign it, baby, please?” Stephanie's robe was gone—she wore only her tall heels and nothing else, her sexy body on display. Her free hand held a pen, hovering over the contracts.

&
nbsp; Falco took the pen and signed everything. Stephanie cooed out little squeals of gratitude with each one. Then she dropped to her knees, her strokes slowing as his massive cock slid over her cheek.

  “In the contract there,” she said, “it states how a blowjob counts as half as a fuck. So...do you think you’d mind if I got started? I just have to repay my big, handsome Master. Selene told me that was your proper title, now. My Master. You don't mind that, do you?”

  He didn’t mind at all.

  His ex-wife starting slurping on his hot, ready meat immediately, giving him a better blowjob than she ever had when they were married.

  He was so worked up from the whole ordeal, and the long, long handjob that she had been administering, that it was no time at all before he had shot a hot, thick load down her servant-throat, fucking her beautiful face just like he had always dreamed of doing when they were officially together.

  And even so, even when he began the first of a series of several hot orgasms exploding into his hot new ex-wife servant—the only woman he could really envision was Selene.

  * * * * *

  Later in the evening, after bringing his wife’s debt down by two and a half more fucks, he stumbled into his penthouse and then all the way up into his bedroom. The cool night air kissed at his body through his ripped pants and tangled mess of a shirt.

  There was absolutely no way he’d ever be hard again, he was certain. At least not for a week.

  Then, he saw Selene waiting for him in the bedroom. She wore nothing but a thin jeweled gown, her fantastic body arranged just for him. She looked like a queen, an empress, a goddess designed only to turn him on.

  He was hard, instantly.

  This amazed him. After so many blowjobs and exceptional volumes of cum—with what seemed like more with each go-round—he was practically bursting to fuck again. There was no fatigue, no hesitation. He needed to fuck—and he needed to fuck Selene.

  “I’ve been waiting for you, darling,” she moaned, her green eyes lighting up with lust.