Press Your Luck 38 (Patreon)

Harlow walked through the middle of the casino, the sound of chips shifting and falling, chattering people, clicking of roulette wheels and bells and beeps from slot machines merged into an indiscernible cacophony of noise that Harlow had missed all too much. The heavenly chorus of angels singing their praises in a temple to riches built upon luck and skill. He had the last two and soon he would have the riches again but first he had to pay his penance. Harlow attempted again in vain to stretch the hem of his skirt further to shield his bare legs against the cold before downing the screwdriver in his hand. “Hey!” A woman yelled from a poker table, “That was mine!”

“Oh…I’m sorry I was…ugh, it’s you.” Harlow sighed, letting his voice drop an octave as he stared at the redheaded Lucy though this time she was missing the cute bow in her hair. “Guess I’m dreaming again.”

“Like, duh, and it’s my dream, hun.” She stood up from the table dressed in a men’s black suit, white shirt, and red tie. Her white button-up top clinging to her large chest and the frigid air of the casino exposed her lack of bra while the middle two buttons threatened to burst with enough force to take out a bull elephant at any moment.

“No, it’s mine!”

“Is that why you’re dressed like that?” She gestured to the uniform Harlow wore, the overbust clung tightly to his flat chest.

“I…I’m at work so it makes sense.” He said as he plucked at the flat chest of the corset he wore, “And if it were your dream then wouldn’t you dress like a girl?”

“Please–” She smirked–“I totally make anything look hot!” She punctuated her sentence by taking off her coat, throwing it over a shoulder and cocking a hip to one side.

Harlow sneered at Lucy, “Whatever. I’m getting out of here.” He said and threw the tray into the distance as he stormed off. Harlow only got a few feet before his ankle gave out and he suddenly tripped and fell to the floor flat on his face. “Owie!” Harlow clapped his hands over his mouth at the girly exclamation.

“Having trouble, sweetie?” Lucy teased, crossing her arms under her ample chest.

“No!” Harlow spat back, “I just…the rug is uneven here.”

“It’s a dream.” Lucy giggled, “They, like, can’t be uneven.”

“Shut up you fu…you bimbo.” Harlow tried to stand himself back up but found it too difficult without using the table beside him. “See?” He panted, finally getting his feet back under him, or his heels in this case, “I’m just fine.” He cleared his throat and tried again to walk away, only to feel himself trip again. This time he was able to catch himself on a craps table instead of falling to the floor again. “It’s these stupid things!” He growled in frustration as he pulled himself into a seat. “They’re impossible to walk in.”

“They’re actually, like, super easy.” Lucy giggled as she sauntered up, her black leather shoes she wore a moment ago now changed for six inch pink platform stilettos. “Want me to show you?”

“No!” Harlow growled as he looked up at the infuriating girl who now towered over him with her new heels. “I don’t need them.” He pouted, “That was stupid Valerie’s idea anyway and she’s gone now.” Harlow pulled at the four inch black pumps with all his might with no luck. Trying to pull them off of his feet was like trying to pull his own foot free of his leg!

“Change your mind?” Lucy giggled.

“...Obviously.”

“You must like them too, huh?”

“Shut up.” Harlow stood on shaky legs and tried to walk away again, focusing on moving his feet correctly as he did. Lucy rolled her eyes and wrapped her arms around Harlow, “I got it!” He whined angrily, “Let go!”

“Hush.” Lucy said with an exasperated sigh, “You so don’t ‘got’ anything. You looked like a drunk gazelle.” They stood quietly as eternity passed before she finally felt Harlow relax. “You know, like, after we talked before I figured you’d be happier.”

“Happy?!” Harlow pushed away from her. For a moment he started to fall but managed to catch Lucy’s hand and steady himself before continuing, “Pretty sure you called me a freak.”

“I never said that!” Lucy glared at Harlow.

“You said I was gay.”

“I said we liked men, there’s a difference.”

“I don’t like men!” Harlow stamped his foot angrily.

“Except when they’re looking at us? Or touching us? Or kissing us? Or is that just Daniel?” Her teasing smirk faded as a thought crossed her mind, “You know, we, like, really haven't kissed that many boys. Ooh! I know what we’re gonna do this weekend!” Lucy giggled.

“Absolutely not!”

“You’re so totally right!” Lucy grabbed Harlow’s hand and began dragging him away as she continued, “Working with Rosemarie we’ll get to kiss tons of guys and get paid too!” Harlow stumbled helplessly behind her as Lucy pulled him towards the high rollers room. Harlow grunted and groaned as he dug his heels into the floor. “We’re gonna have so much fun and we can, like, finally get out of that fugly motel.” Lucy giggled as she continued to pull the helpless boy along with her. The doors separating the high rollers room swung open on their own.

Inside Harlow saw another Lucy on a pink bed, completely naked except for her red stilettos as she bounced on a man’s cock who laying underneath her while she bobbed her head back and forth on another man’s cock that stood in front of her as she jerked off a pair of men on either side of her. Their large stiff cocks dripped with excitement and anticipation. Beyond the bed, dozens more unknown men waited for their turns in four men teams in a vast line that stretched to the pastel pink walls. Some men were already naked while others were dressed in various fetish gear he had only ever seen in porn he only dared watch when he was equal parts drunk and lonely enough. Passed the twisting, broken, line of men lay an open door where he knew Lucy’s pink car waited to take him wherever she wanted to go.

Harlow looked at the Lucy, still dragging him along looking every bit as happy as the Lucy in the high roller room bouncing on the strange man’s lap. “Hell no!” Harlow shouted as he grabbed a nearby craps table to anchor himself.

“Language!” Lucy shouted and turned to face Harlow, “Why’d you stop?” She asked with a pout.

“Why’d I…Did you see all the horned up men in there?!” He yelled, letting go of the table, “Why wouldn’t I stop!”

“Because you enjoy it.”

“This again?!”

“Duh! This again.” Lucy pouted angrily.

Harlow shook his finger at Lucy, “How many times do I have to tell you?! I’m not gay!” he frantically waved his hand as if swatting the imaginary cocks away before bringing it to his bare hip, “Grr!” he growled and stamped his foot, “I’m not a girl! And I’m not some bimbo!” Harlow crossed his arms over his flat chest, feeling the red button-up shirt hung loosely over his thin frame for the first time. The excitement was overshadowed by the girly mannerisms he had taken. “Forget this, I’m out.” Harlow stomped away and thankfully he managed to do so without falling flat on his face again.

Harlow walked through the labyrinth of slot machines, roulette wheels, and blackjack tables. Beyond the nest of poker tables he found a pair of glass sliding doors with a bright red exit sign above. He breathed a sigh of relief as the exit was in sight and Lucy was not. As he drew closer the doors flung open onto a suddenly dark room lit by a single strip of light. The small corridor of light caused the fresh blood on the concrete floor to shine like ruby liquid. More shadowy men he didn’t recognize flanked the bloody floor on either side carrying baseball bats engraved with words ‘for knees’ or ‘for hands' '. Two men stepped into the light at the end of the narrow tunnel that he did recognize, Oswald and Marcus. Oswald carried with him a large serrated hunting knife while Marcus carried a rusty butcher knife. Jefferson stepped between the two wearing a pristine white suit and an all too wicked smile. Past the gauntlet of weaponized shadowmen and the smiling man in white was a cab, waiting to take him anywhere but here. The man in white walked down the corridor, his cane tapping on the concrete with his bloody hand with every step. The other men began tapping their weapons against the floor in time with Jefferson’s cane, growing louder and louder as if each tap was truly a thunder clap creeping closer and closer until the man in white reached the doors where he stood, continuously slamming the tip of his cane into the concrete. Each thrust brought another explosive burst of sound that crushed the concrete underneath. The sound that started in time with Jefferson’s tapping rhythm changed as bats thump against flesh and knives scraped against whatever metallic horror waited for Harlow in the shadows until the once singular sound became a chaotic chorus of pain. Jefferson tapped his cane to his own beat with his bloody hand as his eyes continued to burn a hole in Harlow’s chest. Reaching into his front suit pocket with his blood stained hand he drew a gun and aimed it at Harlow. With one final hit of his cane the noises immediately stopped. In the deafening silence Harlow heard Jefferson cock his gun.

“YouwantedtosleepwithRichard.” Lucy suddenly grabbed Harlow causing him to jump and let out a girly scream.

“What?!” He asked as he tried to catch his breath.

Lucy giggled and pulled him away from the threshold of the door, “I said; You wanted to sleep with Richard.” She sat at the table beside him, smoothing out the skirt she now wore.

“Because I was horny…a-and that was you.” Harlow glanced back at the exit that was now it’s simple automatic sliding door.

“So, like, I’m the real one then?” Lucy smiled.

“No!” Harlow growled, “You’re a bad dream I’m stuck with.”

“But you said you were me.”

“I wanted to be you becau–”

“You want to be me?”

“No!” Harlow ran his hands through his hair in frustration as he stared at Lucy’s chest now wrapped in a pink halter top before realizing the long red hair he usually wore was gone and replaced with his short blonde hair he was used to, “I got…” He cleared his throat as he adjusted himself, “You’re a bluff. Like when I’m gambling. If I have a bad hand I don’t panic and get upset otherwise I’d lose. See, if you were real you would know that.”

“You’ve been gambling a while.”

“Since I was a kid.”

“Daddy taught you how to bluff?”

“Yes, my dad did.”

“You must, like, be super good at it.”

“One of the best.” Harlow said with a smug smile.

“So, you always win.”

“Pretty much.”

“Then anything that happened was, like, what you wanted to happen.”

Harlow glared angrily at Lucy, “No. That’s not how it works.”

“But you’re, like, so good at gambling.” Lucy gasped, “And you can bluff your way out of a bad hand, right?”

“Well yeah bu–”

“Then, like, why does it always end up with you on your knees with a cock in your mouth? Not that I mind.” It was Lucy’s turn to smile smugly at her counterpart as he stammered and stared at his shoes, Watching the lights from the room dance across the glossy black surface in search of an answer. After several minutes her smile faded, “If you’re right, and I’m just a way you bluff then you really can’t lie to me. And if I’m right…you, like, still can’t lie to me cause…I know better.” Harlow shook his head but still refused to look at Lucy, “The way I remember it was,like, daddy taught me how to bluff and, like, ‘never let em see you sweat’, right?” Harlow nodded. “After he died, I had to bluff a lot cause I was sad and I couldn’t be. I had to take care of mom.”

“I took care of mom!” Harlow snapped.

“Shh.” Lucy waved him off, “The point is all the bad things I couldn’t show I had to hide. Like, how I felt about Daniel.”

“Cause Valerie always teased me,” Harlow grumbled as he scratched at the felt tabletop, unaware how much he looked like a pouting child.

“Or other boys.” Lucy said gently as she rubbed his arm, "Or how much I like dressing up this way."

"I'm not a girl!" Harlow growled.

"How would you know?" Lucy giggled, "Besides, like, looking pretty and drop dead gorgeous doesn't mean you're a girl. No matter what bits you got down there."

"I never did any of this before. I was hiding from Jefferson." Harlow glanced at the exit door. "And you call yourself Lucy. Which wasn't my idea, it was Valerie's. So, like, –" Harlow stopped himself hearing the stupid breathy bimbo voice return.

Lucy grinned gleefully, "Well because I am Lucy now. So, like,..." She paused to let Harlow know she had caught him, "I decided to get used to it. You know what they say, fake it til’ you make it. And, like, it got easier and less scary to just…be me.

“I’m not fake.”

Lucy sighed, "If you put me on when you wanna be brave and confident then, like, what's that make you?"

"I already talked about this with Valerie!"

"You, like, said you like men looking at you. But you didn't tell her you like looking at men too."

"Cause I don't!"

“You didn’t like being held by Richard?”

“No.”

“What about Ray?”

“We didn’t cuddle.”

“No, we didn’t.” Lucy smirked, "Tell you what, why don't we play for it?" Lucy turned and flagged someone down without waiting for Harlow to answer.

"Play for what?"

"I win, you admit I’m the real one and we do what I want.”

"That’s not how…fine. If I win you go away forever."

"We'll talk about it."

Before Harlow could respond a half naked Daniel walked up to the table wearing a black bow tie around his neck, white cuffs, and a black leather thong. "Really?" He asked Lucy with a glare.

"What?" She responded with a delighted giggle as she moved to the opposite side of the table.

"You know what!"

"Hey, if you don't really want him here then make him go away."

Harlow glowered at Lucy before turning to the muscular half naked Daniel shuffling a deck of cards in his hands. "Just deal."

“I told you soooo.” she sang while picking up her cards.

“What?” Lucy shrugged her shoulders with a silly grin and sorted her cards into some unknown order. Harlow rolled his eyes and took one more look at Daniel before picking up his own cards. The queen of hearts shifted to a three of spades and shifted again to the king of clubs.

“Looks like you got dealt a bad hand.” Lucy giggled from the other side of the table.

“Shut up. It’s fine.” Harlow glanced between his small stack of chips and Lucy’s dozens of chips in front of her and the pink vibrating dildo. If he didn’t know she was an idiot he might have assumed she was threatening him with what will happen if he loses.

Lucy smiled looking wistfully to the open doors behind Harlow, a bright red neon sign shined above the door with her name in cursive script. Beyond the door lay the freedom to be who she wanted, to live and love whoever and however she wanted. It was only waiting for her to walk through. She shivered and swallowed the lump in her throat but continued to smile. “No, but, like, seriously you should just fold.” She said finally looking at Harlow.

Harlow glanced at the door behind Lucy. While she smiled like an idiot, men spilled out into the casino. Jefferson stood alone in the archway of the door, Harlow’s name had been burned in block letters above the door as if Jefferson himself was beckoning him to walk through. “I said I’m fine.” Harlow rubbed his fingers along his goatee before pushing his few chips into the center of the table.

“I thought, like, I was supposed to be the dumb one.” Lucy licked her lips as she eyed Daniel, ignoring Harlow’s small pile for the half naked man.

“Having a bad hand doesn’t mean you lose.”

“What?! It so does!” Lucy giggled again.

“Says the girl who didn’t even look at her cards.”

“I know what I’m doing. Do you?” Lucy gave Harlow a knowing smirk.

Harlow licked his lips, taking a quick glance at Daniel before continuing, “Whatever. Either put up or shut up.”

The pair stared at one another, each daring the other to back down first. “Fine. All in.” She grinned, pushing her chips into the center with Harlow’s. Harlow glared at Lucy, who simply smiled back at him. There was a brief pause before the pair flipped their cards over.

Harlow’s eyes snapped open suddenly. His chest heaving violently until the realization came that he was free of the nightmare and back in the cramped motel room. The dark room was dead silent. The sound of the air conditioner no longer audible as it once was in the darkness. After catching his breath Harlow checked the air conditioner, twisting dials left and right, pressing the button on and off, finally kicking it in frustration. “Frankenfurter!” He swore, falling back on his bed. With no other choice Harlow laid back in the bed, massaging his now sore toe and tried to go back to sleep on top of the covers.

It had been nearly a week since he slept with Richard and still he could not get comfortable in his bed. The motel bed was never comfortable but after being reminded of just how soft a bed could be it seemed impossible he ever slept on the bed of nails underneath him now. Harlow sat up in bed, wiping the sweat off of his naked chest with his bedsheet. Swallowing hard as he took a minute to catch his breath before he picked up his phone and checked the time. The insanely bright light from the phone briefly blinding Harlow in the dark. After adjusting to the new light source he saw the clock read 2:17am. Pulling his knees to his enhanced chest Harlow stared at the phone until he saw a minute pass before opening the phone and pulling up his short contact list.