A Hand Overplayed Ch 00 Prologue

Brittany had always been a bit of a naughty girl, she loved partying and clubs, on occasions cocaine and molly, but most of all she loved taking men for their money. Be it a drink at the bar, or a brand new sports car with thousands in jewelry only to skip town the next week, as her most recent love interest had found out. It was no wonder it all came so easy to her either, a stunning blonde with an infectious smile, long slender legs, and hips that would cause any man (and some women) who saw them to instantly gawk. Her cunning personality and bombshell looks combined to give her a potent weapon to take advantage of unsuspecting men.

Her methods were always the same; romance the most easily manipulated man she could find and bait him into lavishing her with gifts and funding her lifestyle for a few months before she made her way out the door. Her last mark had been the most generous of all, buying her a brand new BMW along with thousands in jewelry, only to have her sell the car and most of the jewelry before skipping town with an additional $200,000 she appropriated from his safe.

Fortunately for Brittany the police, if they were even called, would be searching for someone named Jennifer. Which goes to speak for her honesty as a romantic partner, but it was hard to blame her with how successful she had been. Taking her new found fortune on the road she went to the perfect town to escape the world and start anew, Las Vegas.

In her short time there Vegas was a kind city to her, she had found a nice loft for a good value and settled in, quickly acclimating herself to the nightlife scene attending all manor of festivals and raves. She soon met a very nice and quiet young man named Lance.

Lance was a producer for a high profile news organisation who recently moved to Vegas following a divorce from his highschool sweetheart, his awkwardness when he first met Brittany rang of a man who hadn't flirted with a woman in quite sometime. Still, he had a rolex and was buying the drinks so she wasn't about to complain. The two had met a few more times and things became less tense, Brittany even began to find Lance charming in an odd sort of way, but there was only ever one goal in her mind.

Brittany's lavish spending habits resulted in her chewing through a good portion of the almost $300,000 she had arrived to Sin City with, now down to less than $100,000 in only 8 months she needed to find a new source of income and quick. The slim framed, quiet natured Lance seemed like the perfect mark; no family in the area, no kids stopping by constantly to see him, and best yet a six figure income. It was all too easy.

This was going to be their 4th date tonight and Brittany was determined he would take her home, stepping out of the shower she wiped off the mirror and looked over her tight, toned body. Her breasts weren't her favorite part of her figure, as they had never been particularly large, but like the rest of her they were shaped very nicely and her lovely pink nipples that sat just about the size of a nickel always seemed to capture her lover's interests. For this reason she decided she was going to go bra-less for tonight's dinner, Lance had promised to take her to a local restaurant where they could eat on an outside balcony under the moonlight. She hoped the cool air would make her girls perk up through the little red cocktail dress which Lance would have to notice. She always made sure to buy small, thin dresses. She loved imagining how hard cocks would twitch inside of their underwear going crazy over her body, the desperate look in men's eyes while she sat so close with such little cloth covering her. She liked the feeling too, being so close to naked but not quite, with her phenomenal figure perfectly shown off for men to drool over and women to envy. It was an immense power trip that even caused her a slight bit of wetness.

Underwear choice would be equally important, as the hope was Lance would be removing it all later, she wanted him to see her in something sexy. Having been freshly waxed earlier in week, Brittany's tight pussy was smooth as silk and ready to blow Lance's mind. She took great pride in always having her pussy clean shaven as she never wanted her body to look unkempt, equal effort was put in to keeping her toes and hands pedicured and manicured at all times, which while being costly maintenance had so far in her life proved worth it . At 27 years old she still was pretty far removed from any fear of her figure slumping, but given the value staying beautiful had to her livelihood she never wanted to even risk it. After a few moments of contemplation she went for one of her favorite pairs of black silk panties, a classic choice for the moment at hand.

The next hour and a half or so was spent on makeup and lipstick, as well as the occasional pause to sing Cardi B into her hairbrush while dancing in the mirror, when the process was finally over she posed, immensely satisfied with who she saw in the reflection. Taking a quick snap she uploaded the picture to her newest social media pages, this time under the name Trinity, her Vegas alias. With a couple sprays of perfume she was out the door and ready to conquer.

Lance stood over his desk contemplating what laid before him, a sprawling collection of files and photographs lay in seeming disarray across the long cherry wood desk. The smell of cigar smoke permeated the dark room, his open laptop the only source of light, Lance intently stared at the picture of a young blonde woman, a woman he had come to know as Trinity. The pictures sprawled out revealed to be even more pictures of Brittany, although they all had different names written on them. Tiffany, Steph, Megan, at least 7 different aliases for this woman who, according to this very expensive information obtained was at least suspected in thefts totally almost 2 million dollars. In her most recent stint however, as a woman named Jennifer, she seemed to have overplayed her hand.

Lance's sources had it on good information that police were only a few days from issuing an arrest warrant for her and even suspected she may be hiding somewhere out west. There wasn't much time to waste if he was to execute his plan, he emerged from the dreary office into his large home's living room. Lance had what some would call bland taste in furniture, but this was a room he hardly ever spent time in, he either found himself out back by the pool or in the basement where the fun was to be had. Walking up the steps with purpose the moonlight from the sky windows above his steps rippled across his chiseled abs and broad shoulders. Lance looked frail in clothing, but he was deceptively buff despite having always had a lankier frame. His sexual partners had rarely complained and none openly, especially about the thick, long cock housed inside of his jeans. Though he cared little about anyone's opinion, as his career had offered him a chance to live life as he saw fit, with this he decided to use the opportunity to make some changes in his lifestyle.

Lance realized for a long time he didn't like vanilla sex as much as rougher sex, but early in his adult life he had realized above all else what he craved was control. Young sluts loved to use their bodies to get what they wanted, and he loved nothing more than to take their precious bodies and make them his toys. Over a dozen women now had kneeled before him collared, although these various flings were short lived, as Lance's connections could fetch him a handsome price for them in other countries, once they had been reprogrammed of course. Throughout the years of his sexual conquests he had amassed a large collection of toys and devices, as well as intricately crafted plans on his fantasy of the perfect slave girl. Someone he could mold like clay in his hand, and while he always long dreamed of finding a truly nasty woman and giving her what she deserved he never imagined an opportunity this golden would come around.

"Trinity" aka Brittany had made a living off the misery of others, Lance had quickly become suspicious of her upon their meeting due to odd inconsistencies in her background, but it wasn't until he spent a handsome sum to a close friend of his whom had pull in the FBI that he got the full scope of who this bitch actually was. A predator in every sense of the word, she destroyed lives and left a path of broken people in her wake, using her beauty and charm to mask her horrific actions. She had ruined several men's lives and stole a small fortune, and now she seemed to believe she had found a new target in Lance. She needed to be cut down to size as bad as anyone walking this earth, and he saw that as practically his duty.

Furthermore, no one at all would care if such a cruel and uncaring person went missing for good, making her the perfect candidate to sexually break and mold into his perfect slave. This was a moment Lance had dreamed of for years finally within his grasp, he walked over to his dresser and looked confidently into the mirror while buttoning the sleeves on his chalk colored dress shirt. Next to the dresser sat a wood grain sliding door with a yellow brass handle, Lance fondled the opening to it and pulled the door open. Behind it stood an impressive collection of expensive blazers and sport coats with t shirts smashed in at the end, first however Lance grabbed a black duffel bag that sat underneath all of it and tossed it on the large California king that dominated most of the room's space. Reaching back into the closet he grabbed a deep blue sport coat from inside and tossed it around his shoulders, adjusting in the mirror for an optimal fit, he turned back around and walked over to the bed where the duffel bag lay. Grasping the zipper he opened it and smirked at the contents inside, a pair of folded leather boots fit for a woman, taking the pair out and unwinding them he looked over them top to bottom. A series of straps and intricately woven charcoal tinted laces decorated the front of what now was clearly thigh high boots, sending his gaze downward he examined the massive heels and ballerina pointed toes that seemed to go straight down.

"She does love getting new shoes" a smirking Lance remarked to himself before placing them back in the bag, leaving it on his bed and heading out the door, he didn't want to be late for his date after all.