Like a bull in a China shop

The bar called out to the cowgirl. A siren song of whiskey and beer. Afterall, she was supposed to fight some other woman. Strip her. Tie her up. It's not exactly something a modest church goin' gal like herself was used to. She might need to lubricate her inhibitions a touch to make things easier. Plus, her friends always told her she was a mean drunk. She might need to get a little mean to win this game.

The Manor takes pride in it's own custom label. Sweet corn mash. Roasted oak barrels. And of course a proprietary mix of artificial flavorants, colorants, and sweeteners to hide a complicated cocktail of pharmaceuticals specifically engineered to maximally inebriate with minimal ingestion. Sure, it cost a small fortune to develop, and it can be difficult to accurate administer medication in the presence of ****. The Manor's scientific team is nothing if not well motivated and exceptionally capable. After all, our contestants deserve nothing but the best.

Starting off with a whiskey double, neat, and taking it straight is certainly one a way to introduce yourself. Nova was no stranger to the tactic. The cloyingly sweet amber went down easy. Hardly any burn, no acrid aftertaste, but she really couldn't place the flavors. In less than a minute, she could feel the effects start to wash over her. She felt loose.... bubbly. She was glad the lights were turned down low, and strolled haphazardly towards the overstuffed leather lounge chairs. With a little less dignity than she would have preferred, she ended up sprawling in a heap over the plush surface. It was a good thing she chose some denim daisy dukes for the competition. Her current posture was a little less than lady like. The blonde would be giving someone quite a show if she were wearing even a modest skirt.

Nova wanted to loosen up and get in herself in the right headspace for a fight. This wasn't it. She noticed the door leading out of the room was open. That could be a problem. In a flash of clarity, she decided she ought to barricade it until she felt better. To her credit, there were some reasonable ways to fortify her position. A pool cue or two through the handle of the door. Perhaps wedging a chair or coffee table against the entry way? Attempting to manhandle a wine rack that was clearly bolted to the wall was bold choice. Not particularly clever, but quite bold. As her attempts grew more vigorous, The Manor sought to save it's valuable wine collection. Small hatches opened behind the bottles, and a small hook mechanism on each shelf carefully withdrew the bottles into the wall. Three bottles remained, and one eventually gave way to the blonde's incessant shoving and shaking of the rack.

The sound of shattering glass broke Nova out of her single-minded focus. She went to investigate, and found her footfalls becoming increasingly unsteady. "That whiskey 's no joke..." she observed aloud as she fell to her knees near the shattered bottle. Thankfully, for insurance purposes, the bottles themselves were not glass, but a proprietary resin that was both easy to break, and very difficult to cut oneself with. Rather than a disappointing pool of wasted ****, only a single perfectly preserved playing card remained in the remnants of the broken bottle. After a couple of failed attempts to seize the card, Nova focused well enough to wrap her fingers about it's waxy edges. An ace of diamonds. Nova stared at the card a moment before turning her gaze to the large poker table at the center of the room. Were she not ****, she might've remembered her mission to seal the doorway. In her current condition, she perceived the card as a key of sorts, and the poker table as treasure chest just waiting for her to open it.

With a series of stumbling steps and a few failed attempts to properly sit on one of the stools, Nova prepared to start a game. "Players must meet the buy-in to play". The blonde immediately decided she did not like the sound of the computer responsible for running the game. Very pushy, and the voice was annoying. She was half tempted to wander away when video screen popped out from the table, tempting her with a chance to win a shiny, golden trump card. Well. She was never a lady to step down from a challenge. Besides, she had her lucky poker card. She attempted to place her poker card on the table as buy in, only to have the machine refuse to accept her offering. "Articles of clothing only" the annoying computerize voice chimed in again.

Nova paused a moment, foreseeing all sorts of possible trouble ahead. Then again, she was already here. What's it matter if she lost her hat? It's not like she'd end up naked. Surely she'd stop herself before it got too bad. She very much liked her white cowboy hat. It had lovely black leather strap adorned with a large turquoise and a set of hawk feathers. Surely after she won a few games she could get it back. As soon as she set it on the table, a metal box popped up near the dealer's seat, and an automated piston pushed her offering into the receptacle. With nary a sound, the box withdrew into the table. Moments later, five cards shot out from a small slat in front of the cowgirl's seat. A screen appeared at the dealer's seat, showing the back of five playing cards. "Five Card Draw" The words flashed on the screen, then the dealer darkened the back of two of its cards. The darkened cards flew off screen, and two new cards slid into their place, suggesting the machine had discarded and drawn for its turn. Nova glanced at her hand. Eight of hearts, Four of diamonds, Jack of clubs, Eight of clubs, Jack of hearts. Two pair, and a nice set at that. She threw out her four. The table spat out a Queen of spades. Not a bad hand to start. Surely, she'd win her hat back and have a shot at that trump card.

The machine had other ideas. The cards on the screen flipped around. Two of hearts. Two of diamonds, two of clubs, two of spades, seven of hearts. "Try again?" the screen taunted. Luck of the god damned devil. She had that. Surely it was just a fluke. No way that could happen again. This time the cowgirl risked her boots. They were well-worn, and a little dusty. She'd had 'em for a couple years now and they were broken-in just right. It took a little fenagling but eventually they found their way into the offering bin. The blonde now sat sans hat and showing off her cute little doggy print toe socks. "Just need to win back my stuff and I'm out of here" Nova thought to herself as a new round of cards got dished out. "Drink on the house?" the computer offered before commencing its turn. Nova convinced herself that she was already feeling better. That first drink hit her a little hard, but now she'd be ready for it. Besides, this was just a little splash, she hit a pretty heavy handed double pour earlier. The sweet spirits washed over her lips and hit the back of her throat just right. The shot was even a little watered down, no way it'd knock her on her ass like the last one.

Nova looked at her cards. A three to seven straight. Bingo! Surely she'd win this round. The computer highlighted four cards. After discarding and drawing new, the computer admitted defeat. A pair of tens simply wasn't enough. Were she in her right mind, the blonde might've questioned how the computer knew it'd lost before seeing her cards. As it was, she was just focusing on her elation that the donation box returned with her hat in tow. Now she just had to win back her boots and she could leave. Of course, she had to pay her hat in again to start the next round. That could be a problem... an even bigger problem would be trying to beat three of a kind with nothing but a high card Jack. The cute doggy toe socks had to be wagered together, the machine not accepting them individually. In the moment, she had a very strong sentimental attachment to those socks. She had to get them back. Sure enough, she did! But she really needed her shoes too. Again, her socks were put up for payment. Again she was offered a drink on the house.

And so it went. The machine was nothing if not devious, enticing her with promises of returning her clothes, and letting her win just often enough to never feel hopeless. All the while loosening her up with free drinks. Off came her pink flannel long-sleeve, leaving her in a thin white camisole and her daisy dukes. Then another loss, and her belt had to go. A couple wins, and several losses later, the cowgirl found herself having to remove her top. Some people would've given her a hard time about wearing a bikini top decorated like an American flag: a blue field with a white star where her nipple might be on one cup, red and white stripes on the other. She'd pay them no never mind. If they didn't love freedom, she wouldn't love them. Her tits were always quite modest, something she blamed on being a farm girl. Working hay bails and fixing fence didn't leave a lot of room for flab. Four or maybe five shots of whiskey convinced her that she needed to get the rest of her clothes back before she could leave the table.

Another hand, another loss. Now she'd have to pay with her daisy dukes or walk away with her bra out for anyone to see. It was hard to stand, harder to find and undo the buttons, and harder still to slip her fingers into the waistband and pull her shorts down to her ankles. She had a pert, shapely posterior. Riding horses and hauling feed gave her buttocks spectacular musculature. Perfectly rounded cheeks just big enough to get a fistful with no flab, and sharply connected to the top of her thighs. Men would break their necks to catch her in a thong. Here she gave away that spectacular view for free. The star-spangled underwear didn't cover a stitch of her voluptuous curves. A small, neatly trimmed bramble of blonde hairs peaked out over the top and sides of her panties at the crotch. Maybe it was all the drinking, or maybe it was the adrenaline rush of stripping down in a strange place, but her little clit rose to attention poking into the top of white star emblazoned at the front of the fabric. Nova hurriedly returned to her seat and cast her shorts into the collection bin.

The computer went easy on her, letting her earn back her socks and hat back a few times before ultimately taking them away and leaving her with a conundrum. Would she pay her bra to get another game? To make the choice easier for her, the computer offered another shot of liquid courage and an insidious offer. If she got on the table and did a little strip tease to remove her bra, she could play two hands. She could get two rewards if she played her cards right! Were she sober, she might've walked away. Three sheets to the wind, that sounded like an offer she couldn't refuse.

A large screen dropped from the ceiling. A virtual stripper in an outfit not entirely dissimilar to Nova's current affair came into view. With a little coaching from the computer, Nova cottoned on to the idea. She was to match the stripper's routine. Nervous, and really quite wobbly, the **** cowgirl fumbled her way onto the table. The routine began innocently enough with a little hip shaking and shoulder swaying with her arms above her head. Sure, her breasts were swinging a bit, but hey, it's not like there's an audience at home watching the whole thing from multiple camera angles. Things started to heat up when the stripper started leaning forward and shaking her ass provocatively. The lady on screen was showing off quite a bit of cheek, Nova was pretty sure her rump had little more cushion, and she wasn't entirely sure why she had to move her hips so much to take off her bra. If her daddy caught her moving like this, he just might disown her. That thought struck a chord. Suddenly Nova found herself much more open to all the gyrations and bouncing her ass in a skimpy little thong in whatever way she damn well pleased.

The stripper moved on to loosening the knot holding the bikini together on the back. The threads fell loose, but the stripper kept one hand over her breasts to pin the cloth in place. She teased and twirled the strings on either shoulder about, all the while continuing to thrust and shimmy her hips to a rhythm Nova couldn't hear. The cowgirl followed suit, even as breast shaking and shoulder shimmying entered the mix. Finally, the stripper removed the top entirely, showing off some rater patriotic pasties covering her nipples and preserving some measure of modesty. Nova felt it was a little unfair that she was now swinging her bra over her had with no such coverings for her own breasts. Her chest was on full display, and lightly glistening with sweat from her exertion. The girl flushed red as the stripper pressed her breasts together, and leaned her head to put one pasty covered nipple to her tongue. Nova didn't exactly have the goods to execute such a maneuver, and felt more than a little silly trying her best to reach while waggling her tongue wildly. The stripper finally threw the top to her implied audience, the video went black, and the screen ascended back into the ceiling. Nova threw her bra into the collection bin, and took her seat. She was so flustered she could hardly read her cards, let alone make wise decisions. Loosing two hands after her mortifying routine nearly sent Nova over the edge. She even stood up and stumbled away from the table for a moment. She took about three unsteady steps before realizing she couldn't really afford to walk away.

The machine offered her one heck of a deal. She could play FIVE hands at once. All she had to do was masturbate before turning in her panties. The table even offered her an array of "implements" to help her. Nova was normally an upstanding, church going, God-fearing lady. She'd done some spicy things: kissing boys behind the rodeo stands, participating in wet t-shirt contests, doing body shots off her gal pals to get someone's attention... and now apparently a full stripper routine, but she'd never so much as seen a vibrator or dildo in person, let alone use one. Hell, she was even too shy to say the words out loud when she was sober. Seeing a veritable battalion of butt plugs, silicone dicks, and massage wands nearly knocked her off her feet. The blonde stood flabbergasted in the middle of the room, completely unsure of what to do. She tightly cupped her exposed breasts in her hands. Her knees locked together and she flexed her hips down to try and hide her crotch, unknowingly thrusting out her ass for rather splendid display. She wouldn't dare go out the door and try face-off with some other woman in nothing but her tiny-tiny thong. Five hands. Five chances to win. This could be her turning point. She could win back almost all her clothes. Hell, she could win just enough to cover herself to pretend she's on the beach and walk away. What choice did she really have?

Sheepishly, Nova waddled back to the table. She wasn't entirely sure which toy she ought to use, but she was quite sure she didn't exactly feel like trying to rub one out starting completely dry in her current situation, and at a noticeable lack of "stimulation". She picked what she determined to be the most modest vibrator available. The blonde wasn't exactly up for penetration at the moment, and some small part of her had always wanted to try one of these things. About the time she maneuvered the head of her new toy to her uncomfortably eager clit, three screens deployed from the roof. In the center, a beautiful blonde woman in panties very similar to her own took a seat, spread her legs wide, and began applying a vibrator of her own to her crotch. Oh good. Another instructional video. Was that really necessary? And did the bitch on screen really need to have nicer tits? Nova huffed and looked to the screen on the right. A red haired woman in an elaborate black leather outfit hosting some rather provocative cutouts stood dominant in the frame. She brought shiny black gloves up to black painted lips and indicated she wasn't interested in hearing anyone talk. She then began seductively whispering to the camera. Nova could clearly hear the woman asking her if she'd been a "good girl". If she thought she deserved a reward. Getting instructions on a normal body function was one thing. Being instructed by another woman and receiving sexually tinged praise was another. The girl blushed, not entirely sure how to handle that particular sensory experience. The last screen was simply a collage of the busty blonde from the center screen getting railed by handsome men. A deep envy found its way into the back of Nova's mind. That bitch was getting dicked down by studs, and Nova had to make due with a toy that couldn't cut it as a massage gun.

The humming of the motor against her clit quickly changed her mind. Nova could feel a beautiful sense of pressure and stimulation building up something in her nerves. The big titted bimbo certainly seemed to be enjoying herself. "Fucking hair trigger whore..." the cowgirl mumbled under her breath. The encouragement from the red headed woman on the screen was starting to get to her too. It was ever present, but she had to really focus on it to hear over the other two screens. When she did, she could feel the woman's words reverberating in her skull. It was strangely comforting, even if it felt like the woman was somehow looking down on her, demeaning her with praise. Why did she need that woman's approval to get herself off? Why did she care about how good she made herself feel? Her envious gaze moved back to collage of a beautiful woman drowning in attention. She was envious of how good it would feel to have those men filling her, and wrapping their arms around her. They kissed her neck and worshiped her body while delivering thick rods of satisfaction. Damn that blonde bitch. Nova deserved that kind of princess treatment, not her! The wand continued building that swell of sensation bringing her closer and closer to release. The cowgirl started rubbing her nipples in anticipation, trying to build up that little bit more she needed to tilt over the edge. The porn star on screen screamed again, lording her pleasure over a frustrated Nova. The red head cooed and coddled, whispering a few last words of encouragement. Another breath, and it started. A wave of pleasure washed over her as the stimulation cressendoed. She bucked her hips and moaned her satisfaction as everything the wand built up washed out and over her. She heard the redhead cooing and congratulating her as she climaxed. "That's it... good girl... that's how you cum for mommy...that's my good girl..." Fuck that bitch. She wasn't her mother. She didn't need the approval. Why the fuck did her voice stand out so god damned much? The screens retreated back into the ceiling, and Nova felt a wave of shame wash over her. What the fuck did she just do?

It took a few seconds for Nova to recuperate. She placed the vibrator back on the table with the other toys, and the collection receded back into the abyss as the playing surface returned. The clothing receptacle returned, patiently awaiting her newly soaked thong. The cowgirl reluctantly peeled them away from her crotch, and shivered a bit from the sensitivity as she slid them down her thighs. A little snail trail from her climax sparked another wave of embarrassment, serving as liquid proof of her lewdity. As the panties disappeared into the box, the blonde had a sinking feeling she'd never see them again. Five hands were dolled out by the machine. The dealer's screen showed that it neither discarded nor drew any cards, a pattern it often showed when it was playing nice. A spark of hope welled up. Maybe she could do this. It took some time to review each hand and make the appropriate plays. In the end, she was rather satisfied with the results: A flush of hearts, a full house Threes inside of Aces, a 9 to Queen straight, and three of a kind in fives. Surely some of these would win.

Nova watched the dealer's screen with painful anticipation. Ten of diamonds. Jack of diamonds. Queen of diamonds. King of diamonds. Ace. of. Diamonds... That was it. She'd lost it all. Naked. Drunk, but rapidly sobering. Horny as hell. Wet from an orgasm. And shit out of luck. Oh, and she was supposed to be hunting/ being hunted by another woman where the winner would strip and bind the loser. She couldn't help but feel a little behind on that front.

The dealer's screen tauntingly flashed another message: "Try again?". Surely it couldn't be for real? What on Earth did she have left to bet with? Maybe the game was taking pity on her. Maybe she could still win back her clothes. She still really wanted her hat back... and socks. Of course the bikini and the rest of her outfit would be much appreciated too.