I used to work as a proposition player in a casino. In fact, I still have a form of I.D. in my wallet that required a background check on myself that included my family members, roommates, and my credit status. For those in the know it’s worth more than a Driver’s License.

So what was my official job as a prop? My official duties included knowing everything about the game from the way the shuffling should look to every form of cheating known to man as well as signs that someone has come up with a new one. My job was to attract players and get them to open their wallets. My job was loss prevention. My job required being a siren to gambling addicts who might stay a little longer because of a pretty girl who was also a card shark.

I was one of the few women you find in this position. A game of cards is still primarily fueled with testosterone. There are fewer women that are willing to hang around in a sleazy casino night after night running statistics through their head while smiling at every kind of rude comment imaginable. My job was also to take money in the form of chips that I could roll with ease across my fingers.

My unofficial job was to be hated and wanted. For a time, that was pretty fun. I would wear my classiest all black outfits because if I’m to be a femme fatale then I’m going to do it right. I wore red lipstick, I wore heels, I wore stockings with seams down the backs of my legs and I did very well in the pocketbook. Sexism exists in a casino and more than once someone wondered if I was a cocktail waitress that was a little lost. The thing is, sexism can work in your favor.

Domination isn’t always aggressive. It can be subtle and slowplayed. At the tables, my strategy was always to make someone else think they were in charge. You want to pressure people to make calls that they believe they came up with on their own. The art if getting someone to do what you want without having them catch on is a key skill in a casino. Without a riding crop or rope I could put people into bondage and create quite a bit of pain.

But it’s also wearing to keep stranger hours than a streetwalker. The bars aren’t quite as crowded at 6AM and it was hard to keep in touch with friends who seemed to occupy an entirely different world than I did. It was also hard for me to keep my conscience clear after watching someone go through the rent and a few cash advances rather than the cage. There were people that I would see for three consecutive shifts at the same seat, in the same clothes, eating food from a TV tray up against the table. I loved the feeling of always having an ace up my sleeve, but sometimes I hated really noticing the grime that collects in the corners of the room.

I did have a clandestine lover affair with a coworker. This was absolutely forbidden by the management who seemed to think that romantic sparks would create a Bonnie and Clyde situation. It made everything all the more exciting for me. My black skirts got a little tighter and whenever I knew that my partner was at a table behind me I would get out of my chair and bend over the table to examine the hand. We would brush up against each other and speak in innuendo constantly. It made the night go by quicker.

We could have been fired if someone caught on and that turned me on even more. It was viking sex on a burning ship. Giving him eyes and a smile might attract someone’s attention, so it meant so much more and had to be done carefully. We would pretend to walk to different sections of the parking lot and leave in the same car and fuck to the sunrise. The casino was already an underworld its own and we had gone a layer deeper.

The sex we had, naturally, was kinky. Two people already skilled in power games and the role of observation can have quite a bit of fun with one another. We were also free to make more noise because most people were at work when we were in bed. He didn’t even know a thing about BDSM until he met me but the language and flair of it was something he had naturally. Yes, I taught him about bondage, the thrill of a hand around a throat, and how to leave a proper bruise but he was a born natural.

Things ended not long after I left the casino. It wasn’t the same for either of us, but I’ll wager that he hasn’t fucked anyone the same since he met me. I provided him with a vocabulary that would allow him to ask for something he wanted. I hear that he’s a bartender now and sometimes I imagine putting on something sleek and dark, coming over to his counter, and leaving red lipstick on a martini glass. I don’t always have an ace in my sleeve, but I tend to carry one in my purse.

Filed under: Porn Stars |
Posted on December 24th, 2008
Posted by Miss Maggie Mayhem