What Happens in Vegas

What happens in Vegas, stays in Vegas. That's what all the ads say and I hope to God it's true. Funny, but that's the first thing that went through my head when Meredith told me to give her my skirt.

"Excuse me?" I giggled, certain that I'd misheard her. I had been drinking, not a lot, but enough that everything felt like the sharp corners and rough edges had been worn off. I'd fairly glided down the hall even though I was dreading having to tell Meredith that I'd lost her money. Her money. I'd already lost mine.

"You heard me. Do you have my money?" she asked. She didn't even wait for my answer. "I told you that all debts had to be paid by the end of the night, right?"

I didn't answer right away, just looked down at her shoes. They were black stiletto heels at least three inches high. I briefly wondered what type of woman walked around in her hotel room in shoes like that. They had to hurt.

Meredith reached under my chin and pulled my head back up, forcing me to look into her eyes. They weren't friendly anymore, two orbs of chiseled malachite and suddenly I felt cold and a shiver ran up my spine. "A debtor is the worst sort of person to be, " she told me. "Society only functions when people pay their debts. Businesses collapse when they can't collect, people lose their jobs, and they in turn spread the disease. A nation's economy can be completely undermined when this happens. Debtors are a cancer amongst the civilized, an evil that cannot be tolerated. Now, are you going to be part of the problem little one, or are you going join the civilized and pay your debts?"

I blinked my eyes, sort of stunned into neutral for a moment. I shouldn't have had that last drink before I came up here, I thought. I was having difficulty following everything Meredith was saying, but I did know that I didn't want to remain in her debt. She was a little scary. Funny I hadn't noticed it at first.

At the tables she'd looked exotic. Dark raven hair that fell to her shoulders like a sable pelt and eyes so green they burned away the other features of her face. She'd been dressed in a scarlet shimmer that fell to the floor like a sheet of water. Her lips had matched her dress and she'd smiled when I approached her.

I didn't know why I'd done it, but I was mesmerized by her. Undone at the moment her lips had turned up in a smile. We'd sat together and drank, though in retrospect I think she hardly touched her champagne, and we talked. We talked about everything and everyone, laughing like lifelong girlfriends. She was an international banker, she said and the world she talked about was exotic. I felt ashamed to talk to her about raising children and running a home, it seemed so small to me when I spoke of it. But she brushed my fears away, telling me that to her, it was my life that was extraordinary.

Finally I confessed to a run of bad luck on the blackjack table and told her about my husband who'd be less than happy to find out. She'd tossed five black chips to me from a huge pile of her winnings and told me that I had to pay my debt at two. But the way she'd said it then, with a soft smile and little wink had let me think it was of little consequence.

I didn't think so anymore as her steel fingers held my chin and her eyes burned into mine. All I knew was that I didn't want to disappoint her. I didn't want Meredith thinking that I was another part of the disease. I don't know why I felt so strongly about it at the time, but I suddenly felt like a kid caught with her hand in her mother's purse. I didn't want her thinking about me like that.

"How can I pay?" I asked. I felt my face grow hot and I tried to pull away from her eyes, but she wouldn't let me go.

"You want to pay off your debt?" she asked.

"Yes, of course," I said swallowing several times and trying to hold back the tears that were threatening. I felt sick to my stomach.

"I'll credit you twenty dollars for your skirt," she said. She made no move away from the door, keeping me in the hall.

"What? Out here in the hall? Someone could come out at any time," I said.

"Paying a debt isn't always easy or comfortable," she smiled, "if it were, we wouldn't have all the problems we have with loans."

"Forty!" I said. "You can have my skirt for forty dollars."

Meredith grinned. It was just a quick flash of teeth, but I think she enjoyed the fact that I was bargaining with her. She nodded her head just once and I suddenly realized what I'd committed to doing. My hands shook so much at first that I jammed the zipper on the side of my skirt. All the while Meredith watched me and perversely seemed to enjoy my struggles. Finally, I got the zipper down and my skirt fell to my feet.

I was immediately conscious that my sheer blue panties left very little to the imagination.

"Pick my skirt up off the floor and hand it to me," Meredith said sharply. I was a little taken aback; I thought she was enjoying this. She was, but at that time I didn't understand how. While I bent over to pick up the skirt she asked me if I'd ever done anything like this before. "You look like one of those women who might have sold their bodies during college, did you?"

I was blushing again, but shook my head 'no'.

"I don't mean to imply that you were a whore, dear," she said, "but you do look like you've taken your clothes off for money before. Did you?" And then while I protested that I'd never been a stripper she added, "come on, you can tell me the truth. I'll credit you an extra hundred if you just tell me the truth."

I kept telling her that it wasn't true. I'd never stripped during my college career, though I know I could have used the money. I'd even considered it once when all I'd eaten for a couple of weeks were baked potatoes, going so far as to drive down to one of the clubs, but I'd chickened out in the parking lot. I don't know if it was self-respect or fear that kept me from stepping out of my car, but in any event that was as far as I'd gone.

Finally Meredith grew tired of my protestations and offered me forty for my blouse.

I tried raising the amount again, but this time she wouldn't budge. "As much as I'd love to see you standing here in your bra and panties, it just isn't worth more than forty dollars to me," she said. "Either you're a debtor or not. Your choice."

I started unbuttoning my blouse. My fingers slipped and and I had to fight to keep them steady as they worked the buttons. I was getting a little mad now. I knew I was being manipulated, but it didn't seem to matter. There was something about Meredith, something that I hadn't seen before in another person. She was the type that commanded respect; you didn't want to displease her.

I wondered about the people that worked for her, if they felt the same way. Did they tremble at the thought of her frown? And did her smile seem to lighten their day the way it did mine?

After a couple of false starts I had the blouse unbuttoned and I was folding it in my arms and handing it over to her. She smiled and I was happy. "A little risqué for a Midwestern-mom, don't you think?" Meredith pointed to my bra which matched my panties. It was sheer as well and you could clearly see my nipples hardening through the thin material.

"Were you hoping for company or is all of this for your husband?" she asked.

"It's for my husband," I stammered, but she didn't believe me.

"You know what Linda," she said. "I think you're a liar. I really do. I think you got dressed after your husband left for whatever boring conference he was in. I think you got all wet and gooey thinking about a secret tryst while you dressed. What was it going to be a little quickie in an elevator or were you hoping for a long afternoon Romeo?"

Again I protested that Meredith had it all wrong. I dressed sexy for my husband, I liked to see his eyes light up when he undressed me.

Meredith frowned and held up her hand. "You're just wasting my time Linda. I told you that I can't abide liars any more than I can debtors. Good night," and then she started to close the door.

"Okay, okay," I said shooting my hand out and grasping the edge of the door. "Maybe I was hoping for a little something. If not the actual encounter, maybe just the invitation." I was blushing hard now, my face was hot and I kept looking at the ground. I couldn't meet Meredith's eyes. She said nothing, but the door didn't close any further either.

"Tell me you're a slut Linda and I'll let you continue, otherwise, please go."

I stammered and kicked my feet a little but when I felt the door pressing against my hand again I gave in. "I'm a slut," I admitted. I thought it would be a horror to speak the words, but it actually felt good, like a weight I'd carried too long was finally taken from my arms. "I'm a slut," I said again, "I just wanted something different and exciting for once."

"Good girl," Meredith purred, opening the door again. I glanced up to her eyes and I saw them soften. She smiled and I felt my knees go weak.

Somewhere down the hall I heard a door open and I suddenly became conscious of my lack of attire. I tired to press past Meredith and into her room, but she threw up an arm, blocking the doorway. "You agreed you'd do this out here slut," she said and she wasn't purring any longer. Her voice was hard again, crisp and business-like. "And I always make my clients honor their agreements."

"Meredith, please," I urgently whispered. "He'll see me out here. He'll call security!"

"Oh he'll see you all right," she said, "the ice machine's over this way and he's carrying a bucket. But I wouldn't worry about security my little slut. That should be the least of your worries."

"Please stop calling me a slut, Meredith," I asked.

"Why? It's true, isn't it? Besides, I rather think you rather like the idea of being seen."

Again I protested and this time more urgently as I could hear the man with the ice bucket getting closer. The door began to close again and once again I was forced to throw out my arm and block it. "Fine," I snapped. "I'm a slut. You're right! But how could you know?"

"Your panties, slut. That's all the evidence I need. You're getting all hot and bothered again standing out there with that man coming. Your cunt's all hot and dripping and you're staining your panties."

I reached down immediately, but I didn't need the confirmation of wet fabric under my fingers. I knew she was right. I was getting excited stripping for her in the hallway and there was something extra exciting about the knowledge that a man was walking by.

I glanced up and saw that he was about twenty feet away. I wondered what he was thinking, probably every man's fantasy about what girls do when they're not around. Something about Sorority houses and slumber parties.

"Fifty for the bra, slut." Meredith's voice jerked me back to the present. "Do it now while he can see you or go back to your hubby like this. But whatever you decide, do it now."

I didn't hesitate, I just reached around my back and unhooked the clasp. I slipped out of the straps and handed it over to her before the man had come ten feet closer. He was slowing now, trying to look nonchalant, but I could tell that he was enjoying the scene unfolding in front of him and he didn't want to hurry on by.

"Does my little slut please you mister?" Meredith called out as he started to pass.

He looked a little startled at first and then nodded. I whirled on Meredith, "don't do this please," I begged.

She ignored me. "Her tits sag a bit," she said to the man as if I weren't standing right there, "but then again she's had three children and they are real. Show the man how real they are slut."

"Meredith, what are you doing? This wasn't part of the deal," I said.

"Call it interest, slut. Show the man, let him touch them. It's the only way he can tell for sure how real they are."

By now my head was torn. I had to admit to myself that I was immensely excited, my nipples were agonizingly hard and I could feel the dark stain on my panties getting larger and larger, but I was scared too. It was one thing to fantasize about another man touching me and quite another to let some stranger do it in the hall. But I was caught too; I knew that if I didn't do it Meredith would shut the door and I'd be forced to walk back to my room in just my panties. And if I did do it I'd be doing the sluttiest thing I'd ever really done. Stripping in the hall was one thing, letting a stranger grope me was quite another.

I did it though. The man protested that he couldn't, but I walked right up to him and placed his hands on my tits. They were rough, calloused hands. Hands that worked outside. Blue-collar hands. I was blushing again. After a few moments the man agreed that they were real and I turned back to Meredith.

"What now?" I should have been more respectful. I saw that immediately, but I was still drunk and I'd just done things that I didn't think I could. For a moment I felt empowered, but the feeling, as sweet as it was, was gone quickly.

Meredith frowned. "Show him your cunt, bitch," she said. "And I think you'll do this one for free because of your attitude."

Shit! I knew better than to challenge her, I don't know what I was thinking. I took off my panties and turned to give them to her, but she just waved me away. "Give them to him as a souvenir."

I didn't think I could blush any more, but I was wrong. I turned back to the man and my face burned with shame. I get a Brazilian every couple of weeks and his eyes were riveted on my bare pussy. I handed him the damp panties and he mumbled something in return, but I didn't hear what he was saying. I twirled slowly so that he could see everything and then I stepped towards Meredith's room.

"You've only earned back ninty dollars, slut," she said. "Why don't you step inside and we'll discuss the rest of your debt and your attitude."

END PART ONE