Gambling Man - Part 3

After that, something just… snapped. I didn’t care anymore. I went to tables and bet and bet and bet without even considering what it was I was losing or gaining. I lost weight down to almost where I was before, then I gained it all back, and then I put on even more. I lost my hair, then gained golden locks that ran down to my bosom. My balls dropped down to my knees, then retreated back inside the flab that now covered my groin, then descended once again to an impressive stature. I became strong enough to carry away an entire row of slot machines, and then I lost it all. Then I did it all over again.

At one point someone bet me the ability to take an arm up my ass. I won that game, although I don’t remember what it was the other guy lost. Perhaps it was just drugs. By then, the bets had really ceased to matter so I allowed people to bet anything they wanted. If the prize was drugs or booze, I gladly accepted it to just keep fueling my bender.

And that’s what it was: a bender of epic proportions. I literally didn’t recognize myself in the mirror each time I went to the bathroom to take a piss. I had to sit down of course, since there was simply no way for me to direct the stream anymore, and each time I came out of the stalls I’d see a fat face and a pair of eyes that just stared at nothing. Because what did it matter anymore? All that was left for me was the thrill of the game.

Hours later, I found myself alone at a blackjack table. There was nobody there--nobody was willing to bet against me, not the fat freakshow who only cared about the next score. So I just kept betting against the house--and losing. The house didn’t care about how I looked, of course, so the bets were always more cerebral than that. I bet intelligence, self-restraint, obedience, all of it to the house, and they gladly accepted.

If I’d been smarter I probably would have realized I was being set up, but by then I was too far gone. At one point the dealer offered me a contract as a bet--win and I would get it all back, lose and I’d be employed by the house for several years. I took it, and of course, I lost. “Blackjack,” the dealer said, and then two large men led me away.

I thought they’d put me back on the floor as a dealer, but the house had… other things in mind. I was taken to the brothel and was offered one more bet. Win and I’d go free, lose and I’d be more than happy to accommodate any man’s dick in my asshole for the financial gain of the house. It was a coin toss, and of course, I lost.

It was weird, suddenly becoming bisexual. Like an internal switch being flipped, I could suddenly see the beauty in everyone--in everything. Women were still just as desirable as before, but I knew at my stature I’d never be able to truly please a woman again. It made so much more sense for me to please men. To have their big, hard cocks reach as far up my fat ass as they could, to grab my tits and use me like the cheap whore I wanted to be. That I was now.

Well, not cheap, but not as pricey as some of the more svelte companions at the brothel.

They got me to work that night. I serviced three men, all of whom fucked me rough and hard before leaving. That was fine--I liked it hard. I could take it. I could have taken much more. But each time they finished before I felt truly satisfied.

Then just before my shift was over, I got one more customer. He was big--almost as big as I was, and then I saw his face and remembered him from my time as a customer rather than an employee of the house. He was the fat guy who took my cock--most of it, anyway. He wanted to have some fun and he thought I’d be the one to give it to him.

I nearly refused, but the matron made it clear that refusal wasn’t an option. So I smiled and took him to my room. I undressed, revealing my curvaceous form, my voluptuous chest and belly, and my titanic ass. He came up from behind and embraced me, his own belly resting on my ass like a shelf and causing him to lean forward so I could feel his hot breath on my neck. Between my chunky thighs I could feel his shaft hardening, climbing higher and higher until I could feel the head nestled just underneath my balls. Given how thick my legs were and how far his stomach kept his pelvis away from my groin, I’d say he easily had the biggest dick of anyone I’d ever seen.

“You look amazing,” he breathed in my ear. He didn’t recognize me--of course he didn’t. I couldn’t even recognize myself. To him, I was just some fat whore with an ass that looks like it might theoretically be able to take all of him. Worst of all, I wanted to. You’d hardly tell the difference, but I was hard and leaking, the fluid eventually making its way to the shaft caught between my thighs and letting it worm its way even further into my groin. It was powerful, insistent, undeniable.

I stepped forward, deliberately dragging my inner thigh along his shaft, and made my way to the bed, holding his hand to guide him there with me. I laid down and then he did something surprising--he didn’t climb on top of me like everyone else had that night. Instead, he stopped at the foot of the bed and pried my legs apart so he could bury his head in my groin. Then he began lapping at my leaking nub while kissing my inner thighs.

He was going down on me. None of the other guys had ever bothered, and I’d been slowly getting hornier and hornier all night long with such one-sided sex.

I nearly came immediately. Even though I had barely any shaft left, it felt like what few inches I had buried in my own flab were vibrating thanks to the quick tongue lashings this fat fucker was giving me. Occasionally he’d slip his tongue down beside my head and into the crevice of flesh that cradled it and made my dick look more like a clit than a cock. This was the first time in a long time I felt anything other than myself around my shaft.

A squirt of cum blasted over my customer’s face, and then another. I gripped my tits and yelled out as I came, unable to stop myself. He chuckled and continued, his laughter’s vibrations running along my cocklet and teasing out even more cum. By the end, my groin was soaked and his face was nearly coated in white goo when he finally came up for air.

He scooped the semen off his face and added it to the puddle that coated my groin, then he slathered it over the anaconda that jutted from under his apron. “My turn,” he said, motioning for me to turn over.