Two

She looks down at the dice lying on the table, then rises to her feet and walks over to stand in front of you.

“Snake eyes,” she says, her grey eyes looking into yours. “So, that’s my turn over with, now it’s time for yours. Although you can’t roll the dice, not with your hands up there. No, you just get to face the consequences.”

Her hand runs up and down your naked chest, and then it balls up into a fist. She backs away from you, and stands legs apart, fists raised in a fighting stance. “Two is for two-fisted,” she says, and then punches you in the stomach, knocking all the air out of your body. That small frame of hers sure packs a punch, and as you try and catch your breath, she hits you again, even harder, with her other fist, your feet momentarily losing contact with the floor.

She puts her hands on her hips, and watches you recover. “That’s just ‘two’, the numbers only get bigger from here. Soon you’ll be hoping for numbers this low.”