Dealer’s Deck of Death

Dealer’s Deck of Death
By Scott Wilson
Word Count: 662

It looked like an ordinary deck of playing cards with an ordinary blue-checkered pattern on the back and various comical cartoon pictures in the centre of the symbols on the playing side. Tommy flicked through them slowly; taking time at each turn to study each card like it held a deeper meaning than the common viewer saw. Only thirty-six cards remained in the deck, Tommy used the others over the month since finding them under the desk at uni.

Tommy stopped at the nine of hearts and studied it carefully. The caricature was a young red haired lady, dressed in a knee-high pair of snakeskin boots, short denim skirt that barely covered her black lace g-string, a checkered red sleeveless cowgirl shirt and a black R M Williams hat.

“Are you anything like your sister, the two of hearts?” he said softly.

The picture winked at him and blew him a kiss.

Tommy put the rest of the cards back in the packet, carefully slide the packet into the pocket of his jeans, then kissed the nine of hearts before placing it into his shirt pocket. He hopped up and walked towards the toilets at the back of the refectory.

“Okay honey,” he said to the card once comfortably sitting in the cubicle at the end of the toilets. “Let’s see what you can do.”

Tommy flicked his wrist, tossing the playing card high in the air. It reached the top of the cubicle, then disappeared with a wet popping sound. Tommy opened the cubicle door eagerly and was disappointed to see an empty bathroom. He felt a warm hand caress the back of his neck.

“Hey big boy,” a seductive and husky voice behind him said.

Tommy turned slowly. The sex kitten from the playing card was leaning against the door of the cubicle. She beckoned him back to the piss smelling stall, wishing that the cards worked away from the university grounds. He’d use them all in his bedroom rather than a stinking public toilet if he had the choice.

Tommy closed the door behind him, grinning deviously as the red head slowly unbuttoned her shirt. She wore no bra so her voluptuous breast almost burst out when she had all the buttons undone. She pulled his head towards her chest, rubbing her breasts again his face with both hands.

“Oh yeah, that’s it,” she said.

Tommy kissed her nipples and playing with them with his tongue gently. Before he found the deck of cards he was a virgin, and probably still was as the women from the cards were not real women, they disappeared after he’d had sex with them, so it didn’t really count, did it?

Tommy felt her press her large breasts against the sides of his head firmly. It felt nice, until the pressure kept closing in around his head and he couldn’t breathe, eventually blacking out.

When he came to, he smelt a waxy, musky odor and did not know where he was. He heard voices in the distance, but could not feel anything, he could not move. Tommy tried to yell, but no words came out. After a period of time that Tommy could not determine, he felt as though something lifted him up. Light filled his eyes, blinding him for a second until they had time to adjust. He looked around, but could only see straight ahead; he couldn’t turn his head to see on either side.

“Hello, big boy,” a familiar voice said.

Tommy saw the nine of hearts looking down at him, like she were a giant, or he were an ant. He felt himself rising up quickly. A giant pair of lips pressed against his face, almost smothering him in their soft, moist embrace.

The red haired woman took the nine of hearts away from her lips and placed in back on the table next to the other thirty-six cards evenly spread out.

THE END