Strip Poker Girl

Strip Poker Girl

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Strip Poker Girl: A True Story

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Losing my dress – and having the roommates hide it from me – was the turning point in the game. It was the point of no return. Without my dress, I couldn’t walk away from the game. I could no longer leave. I was committed. And the roommates knew it.
I can’t say that the room got literally darker after that…although it was dark…but the mood got noticeably darker. Before, there was generally lighthearted teasing; after, there was something closer to taunting. Before, people smiled and laughed; after, people were more serious about the game. Before, no one talked about the elephant in the room – the fact that the girls were destined to lose simply because they had so many fewer clothes to begin with. After, the roommates gloated as they took off their belts or ties or socks, while the girls had far more at stake in each hand.
My one consolation was that I had a run of good luck with the cards. I watched the guys take off some of their endless clothes. I watched the bimbo with the ample chest lose her skirt, so she was, like me, in bra and panties. The other bimbo had a dress on, but she elected to slip her bra off under her dress. She did it easily, like she had often practiced the maneuver before.
But although I was getting good cards, the roommates kept focusing their teasing on me. They pointed out that it was only a matter of time until my luck ended. They asked me my bra size, and when I refused to say, they said they would find out soon enough, and began to guess and make a side bet about it. And they talked about how my bra and panties would look on the Wall of Shame.
I looked sideways at Brian, trying to read him. His expression was impossible to read. But one thing I did know is that the entire game, he was looking at me.
I had been sitting in as modest a position as I could manage, my legs together and my arms covering my chest as best I could. The roommates hounded me about this until I moved my arms and shifted to a slightly more revealing position.
Why had Brian done this to me? Apparently he saw me at the Casino Night, saw an opportunity for his roommates to “get” me, and served me up to them on a platter. Perhaps he owed them a favor, or perhaps he wanted a favor from them. I suspect he thought I would bail out of the evening at the suggestion of strip poker, and his roommates would have the chance to make fun of me and tell stories about me. It would be a joke. He had no idea of the mental state I was in after Allan, or the effect of too many vodka tonics. When I agreed to play, though, he betrayed no surprise – always a poker face! But his little joke for his roommates at my expense was turning into a much bigger present for them than he or they had anticipated.
I wanted to win the game, at least in some sense. I wanted to beat Brian. Obviously I wasn’t going to beat him at poker that night, but I wanted to beat him in some way or other. It was a small victory that I had agreed to play the game instead of walking away. It had to have surprised him, I knew. And I had to admit, in spite of how badly the game was going, there was something exciting in it. The tension, and the attention. Just like on our first “date,” Brian had drawn me in again. Drawn me into a game. Only this time, a more complex game. More players, higher stakes. All along tonight, I’d been in over my head. But if I had to play, I wanted to play well. I wanted to beat Brian, somehow. I wanted to win.
However, so far I was doing very little winning; I was mostly just trying not to lose too miserably. My one hope at that point of avoiding total humiliation was that one of the bimbos would lose before me, and would refuse to go topless, which would effectively end the game. I kept hoping for one of them to lose. It was them or me, and I was seeing them as my opponents. It was interesting that a game that was supposedly boys-vs.-girls was in reality entirely girls-vs.-girls, with the boys winning no matter what.
Finally the bimbo with the dress lost again, but to my disappointment she avoided the issue by taking her panties off under her dress. She was now down to one item, but she was still fully covered.
My whole focus now was on beating the bimbos. I guess the roommates had wanted to see me lower myself to the bimbos’ level, and they had succeeded.
I survived a close call, and was delighted when the bimbo in bra and panties lost again. I took a big drink. Hopefully she’d be embarrassed and end the game.
But of course, I had misplayed my opponent once again. The bimbo smiled at me and slipped off her bra, revealing a chest even I had to admire. It was quite obvious that the guys admired it, including Brian.
Screwed again. If I lost another hand, I’d have no way out of following suit.
Two hands later, my luck ended. The taunting began. “Let’s see ‘em, Tara!” I took a long sip and a deep breath. Then I reached behind my back and undid my bra. Off it came, and the roommates grabbed it from me. They hooted and made lewd comments, then they checked the size and settled their bet, and confiscated it for the Wall. I tried to cover my chest with my arms, but everyone said that was illegal and the bimbo with the dress grabbed my arms to hold them down. I pulled them away and stopped covering myself. Everyone laughed.
“One hand to go, Tara,” the blond roommate said, staring pointedly at my little black panties.
Over the course of the evening, the roommates’ teasing had become more vulgar. Now they held nothing back. They deliberately used the most degrading terms they could to describe my anatomy, trying to embarrass me as much as possible. They made a side bet on whether I was trimmed or shaved. They admonished Brian not to reveal “the secret” so they could bet on it. With some prodding, they got the bimbos to guess as well. I smirked at everyone, but inside I writhed.
Brian shuffled and dealt. He had been largely silent during the game, but now he spoke. “Actually,” he said, “I think whichever girl loses next is going to have to reveal her ‘secret.’”
He was right. Each girl now had on one item of clothing. Whoever lost next lost everything. And of course, the guys still had lots of clothes on. Talk about a girls-vs.-girls game! It was me against the bimbos. One more poker hand for all the marbles.
I’m not very religious, but I prayed that one of the other girls would lose.
I took another drink and picked up my cards. They weren’t horrible, but they weren’t good. I was in danger.
My heart beat like mad, and I barely breathed. I lay down my cards, and the roommates giggled. “Gotta do better than that, Tara,” they taunted, and they immediately put down better hands.
I turned to the bimbos, feeling something like panic. The one in the dress laughed and lay down a much better hand. My chances were running out. I looked at the one with the large chest. I must have betrayed considerable fear. She smiled at me. “I’m sorry, Tara,” she said, completely insincerely if not sarcastically. She had me beat. She lay down her cards, obviously savoring her victory.
Brian hesitated a long time. “Tara,” he said, and he looked at me. I looked at him. For the first time since the game started, I directly met his gaze. Slowly he laid down his cards.
I closed my eyes. I quickly finished my drink, momentarily fighting back tears. I had no choice, no way out. The roommates started clapping, and the bimbos joined in. “Take it OFF,” they chanted. “Take it OFF!”
The bimbos were enjoying it as much as the guys. They had wanted to “get” me, and I suspect they were also relieved that it was me who lost and not them. Girls vs. girls. The guys had successfully played the players.
I stood up, shakily. I reached down to my little black panties. I steeled myself. Finally I slid them down, wriggling out of them, and let them fall to the floor. I stepped out of them. They were confiscated immediately.
I don’t know how long the teasing went on, probably several minutes, but it seemed forever. Finally the bimbos grew tired of it. They took the roommates’ hands and led them off to their respective rooms, and shut the doors. All my underwear disappeared with them.
Brian and I sat on the floor, silently, not moving, for a long time. You could cut the tension with a knife. Finally, I said, “Let me have my dress back now.” Brian paused, then he slowly got up, went into the fourth roommate’s bedroom, and came back with my dress. I stood up and put it on. Neither of us spoke. I walked toward the door, and Brian did too. We met at the door.
I looked at him for a long time. I could feel that he was attracted to me then. I could feel that he wanted me. I looked in his eyes. There it was! There was the look. There was the approval. I had done it! I had played the game, through to the end. He hadn’t expected that I would, but I did. I had surprised him. And he liked it. A lot.
Suddenly, impulsively, I kissed him. He kissed me back, hard. I think it was the longest, most passionate kiss I’d ever had. I could feel in his lips and in his breath how much he wanted me.
Then I smiled, opened the door, said “Good night, Brian,” and left.
On the way home I could barely walk. But oddly enough, I felt great. I wasn’t a loser any more. I had lost the poker game – and I had been humiliated beyond words – but I had won the game with Brian. He hadn’t rejected me; I had rejected him. He hadn’t drifted away from me; I had drifted away from him. I had my closure. He had tricked me into the game with his roommates, but I had gotten something else from him. In the end, I’d beaten him at his own game.
I practically fell into my room, then I lay on my bed and thought about the evening, touching myself under my dress. The poker game was incredibly embarrassing, and yet I couldn’t deny that I was extremely excited thinking about it. I had discovered something new within myself. Humiliated as I was, I had to admit that I had enjoyed being the center of attention. I liked the risk, the uncertainty, the manipulation, the strategy. I felt like I finally understood it all. I had played badly tonight, but in the end, I had learned from the master. Now I wanted another challenge. I wanted to keep exploring this feeling. I wanted to keep playing.
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The aim of the game is to beat an opponent (choice of eight possibilities) in poker . Each bet is wagered of clothing and at the end, if the player wins the game, the opponent will be found naked. The player can choose from eight different opponents: Maria Whittaker , Amanda Godden, Ginny Champ, Donna Ewin, Trine Michelsen, Sofia Bratlund, Jane and Signe Andersen.
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Cover Girl Strip Poker is a MS-DOS poker game released in 1991 by Emotional Pictures. Play Cover Girl Strip Poker online!
Yet another strip poker game. What is there to say about it?
Well, here you can play with up to three players against one of eight digitized women. Each time you make a girl lose all her money, she takes off some of her clothes (4 of the 8 girls feature “movies” of the strip, which consist of half a dozen frames).
At the beginning of the game, you may select your language at the beginning and can also choose to turn the girl’s comments on or off. Finally, the game features a zoom function with which you can get even bigger pixels.
Unlike many similar games Cover Girl Strip Poker shows animated sequences between one image and the other phases of the strip of the opposing player, although present in only four of the eight female protagonists. In reality this is not real movies, but of a series of sequential images.
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