Far too long

Time goes slowly when you're bored. Time goes even more slowly when you're doing something that is frustrating, tiring or uncomfortable. Massaging a pair of testicles in your mouth while a wet floppy dick rests in the middle of your forehead dribbling aftercum is a bit of all three.

As time wears on, her neck starts to ache and her jaw muscles tire further. There's no way she can last like this forever, so she tries and eventually succeeds in finding a way to rest her head on one of Matt's thighs but still keep his balls in her mouth. This has the added bonus of meaning that his man meat is no longer using her nose and forehead as a pillow. And it also allows her neck to rest, making her much more comfortable.

She slows her oral worship of his crown jewels down and down until she is just idlying tonguing the underside a little bit. Now her jaw is able to rest a bit as well, as she is no longer constantly moving it to create a massaging sensation on his sack.

While Stacy hopes she isn't losing too many points, she also knows that she just doesn't have the capacity to continue at maximum exertion forever. So, this will have to do. Matt doesn't seem to mind. He's recently orgasmed, and he probably needs to concentrate on his game. From what Stacy can hear, he's doing really really well, and isn't going to lose any time soon.

Over the next, well, what feels like 6 hours but must be less because the tournament is still going, people are slowly eliminated from her table, and then as other tables are broken up, new voices replace them. At first every defeat is man versus man, so no oral duty is required, and also every new voice is male. But eventually, there's a new female voice as a woman takes up the seat that was originally Stacy's. She can see the woman's lower half from her head's position in Matt's lap: she's wearing navy yoga pants and white sneakers and has a bare midriff, which presumably means that her top is short and slutty.

This makes what Stacy can hear of the poker game much more interesting to her. If Matt eliminates the new woman, Stacy will be free! She keeps her ears out for any indication of how large Yoga Pants Woman's chip stack might be, and whether she's getting involved in any hands against Matt.

Unfortunately, the players above her mostly play poker without speaking, and it's pretty much impossible to determine what's going on, as much as she's **** to know.

And then... suddenly... Stacy hears her voice.

"All in."

The woman has moved all in! Could this be it?

"Call." That's Matt's voice! Yes! It's happening!

"Call." That's a different man from across the table's voice. A three-way hand! That's not ideal...

"I've got the nuts." The mystery man says. That means he has the best possible hand, and knows he's won.

"And now it's time for you to kiss my nuts." He says with a sadistic chuckle.

The woman, for her part, doesn't baulk. "Yes, Master."

She quickly drops under the table, and for a brief moment, their eyes meet. She's just as sluttily dressed as Stacy expected, with a tiny tight pale blue tube top holding her knockers in place. She looks momentarily surprised to see Stacy down there - perhaps because Stacy has been as quiet as a mouse. But after giving Stacy the briefest and smallest of polite smiles, she crawls over to the new guy and starts eagerly kissing his shaved balls as if they were the rings of a mafia don.

Not wasting any time, as soon as she feels like she has paid the appropriate level of respects to his dangling jewels, she grabs his hardening cock and shoves it in her mouth, quickly getting to work polishing his head and shaft as passionately as she can.

Matt seems to remember Stacy exists, and uses a hand to guide her back to her original kneeling position and points to his cock again, and just like last time he does it without uttering a single word. Perhaps it's just coincidental timing and he's feeling horny again, but more likely he is feeling annoyed about losing some chips on that hand and has decided to find an outlet for his frustration.

Either way, blowjob number two begins. This time he's soft at first, and it's Stacy's responsibility to make him hard again using only her mouth. Not a difficult task, but one she's only used to performing on men she's really fond of. The feeling of a dick rapidly swelling in her mouth is one she usually rather enjoys, and it hits a bit differently when it's a stranger's stiffy that she's submissively summoning.

And yet, she still feels somewhat proud as that familiar sensation of a soft bulge suddenly bulking up and surging towards her gullet informs her that the man above her is experiencing pleasure at her hand. What's wrong with her? This is supposed to be the place where she isn't magically converted into a slut. No, this is her true self. Despite everything, some part of her still wants to enjoy this.

Maybe I deserve to be here after all.

Some weird sense of kindredship, or peer pressure, or something, makes Stacy eager to work just as hard as the woman she can hear gobbling down cock behind her. The effect it has on Matt is clear, too, because his legs can't seem to stay completely still and he keeps shifting his back against his chair.

Gobble gobble gobble

Suck suck suck

GLURK GLURK GLURK

Despite herself, Stacy can't help but get into some sort of twisted unspoken competition with Yoga Pants Woman to see who can make the most lewd sounds with their mouths and throats. Stacy begins to lose herself in the bizarre suck-off, focusing more on the auditory experience than on the actual fellatio itself.

It was probably just the fact he was on tilt from the previous hand, but perhaps the super-powered BJ also had some part to play in the fact that Matt has just thrown all his chips in the middle, and it's now being announced that he's lost it all. Just like that he is **** to stand up, frustrated both by the sudden defeat and also the denial of his looming second orgasm. Stacy is free!

Climbing out from under the table, Stacy is able to see that there are significantly fewer tables with players remaining than when she was first sent under there. Slightly over two thirds of the players have been eliminated. A couple of women and a couple of men can be spotted underneath the tables, probably hard at work between the legs of the person who beat them.

"Stacy, you scored a Satisfaction Rating of 9/10. Not bad. Still, that means you lose another 300 points." The croupier states in a matter-of-fact voice before returning to dealing the next hand.

Stacy doesn't know whether to be happy or annoyed at that news. Losing a whole extra buy-in seems unfair, especially because she wasn't warned properly when she signed up, but also 9/10 seems lucky. She wouldn't have been surprised if she'd ended up with a worse score.

Matt is still standing close by, shaking his head and grimacing with annoyance at himself as he tucks his throbbing cock back in his pants.

He notices Stacy looking at him.

"Well, you might be happy to hear that it looks like I'm in for my first ever losing session, and a new Conversion." He tries to say it casually and lightly, but the genuine dismay he's feeling is impossible to fully hide.

"Serves you right! You could have at least talked to me, or given me a break, or something!" Stacy complains.

"Hey, I could have had you blow me for three hours straight. I gave you a long break in the middle just nuzzling on my nuts." Matt defends himself. "You could have done a lot worse than to have lost to me, I promise you that."

Stacy believes him. Still, she can't bring herself to forgive him, either.

"Anyway," Matt continues, "it's too late in our sleep cycles for either of us to join a new poker tournament now. So unless you want to risk some Gay for Pay over there on the main floor, we're done-zo."

"Oh come on, how bad can it be? You only need to win 300, right? I just gambled 1000 a short while ago, and all I had to do was suck a dick." Stacy chides him. "Is it really worth a new Conversion just to avoid the chance of having to do something slightly gay?"

Perhaps Stacy's choice of words are genuinely convincing, or perhaps in his near-orgasm state, the chance of guy-on-guy intimacy doesn't seem quite as awful as usual.

"You have a point." He grumbles. "Fine! I'll risk it, this once. But only if you'll be my opponent."