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The Crying Game


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Cards shuffle rapidly in that all too familiar manner that makes one think of smoky poker tables and loud, neon-colored casinos, although this setting is far outside either. Rather, the large room seemed empty, the darkness enveloped the outside perimeter surrounding a few pieces of furniture: a set of chairs at one end of a rectangular table. The tabletop was unique, with two black Xs offset to one side the length, and the legs furthest from those marks included solid foot pedals facing outward; the chairs in a heavy, deep stained wood matching the table and comfortable looking with only one occupied at the opposite end of the table, accommodating a devilish gentleman holding the deck. His long, black hair and dark clothing seemed to make him fade into the shadows around him, but strangely, it was the gleam in his dark eyes that made him stand out. Well, that chilling stare and intimidating grin, cruel and comforting at the same time. The sleeves of his black button-up were rolled up, and the playing cards danced fluidly in his nimble fingers.

“Don't lurk in the shadows,” his voice broke the rhythm of shuffling. The darkness seemed to spit the girl into the area at that moment with a slight stumble. He thumped the cards on the table loudly, startling her suddenly and causing her to correct herself. She straightened her clothing, running her hands over her blouse and skirt to smooth the fabric. Frantic eyes searched the space, and she moved closer to the table setting a hand to the surface near one of the markings. “I want to play a game, sit down, girl,” his confident tone startled her, and she swiftly took the chair to his right.

“What game?” her voice was quiet and timid, curiously watching the cards take flight in his skillful hands once again.

His cold glare was fixed on her even as the shuffling continued, “The Crying Game.”

“I don't know that game,” she said, the color draining from her face. Bright eyes shifted from each side; maybe to find an escape, maybe to get a clue of the game.

“It's simple enough to learn,” he stated in a matter of fact tone, handing the deck to her. “I'll tell you the rules as you remove the face cards and jokers.” She took the cards in her demure hand, and began thumbing through them, dropping the various high and wild cards to the tabletop. “Similar to War, you will pick a number between one and ten, and I will draw a card from the remaining ace through ten pile; highest number wins. If your number is higher than mine, you will get that number of lashings with one of seven instruments. If my number is higher than yours, you will receive the sum of both our numbers. Of course, if the numbers match, we will pick a second time and if you win, you receive half the strikes of your winning number; however, if I win, you get double my winning number. On the unlikely chance the numbers match a third time, tie goes to the dealer, me, and you receive thrice the final number. I expect you to count each strike out loud; if you make a mistake, the count starts over.”

She had finished sorting the cards into two smaller decks, gawking at him as he continued the rules, “Once we have the quantity of lashings, you will pick the instrument in which will inflict that count. You will do that by naming one of the high cards, by color and quality. That is to say, black or red jack, queen, king, and singularly, the joker, each choice corresponding to a predetermined item that you are yet unaware. Do you have any questions so far?”

“No,” she squeaked with a slight shake of her head.

“Excellent!” he exclaimed. “Stand and strip to your bare flesh, fold your clothing and place them into the seat while I tell you the rest of the rules.” She did not hesitate to stand and begin disrobing, mostly out of fear. The game scared her already, but she would not allow herself to falter. This was her request, time with this man or beast, she was uncertain. That intensity in his gaze stirred her emotions into a frenzy of confusion, and for some reason she could not explain, she longed for his attention. Now she had it, standing naked and embarrassed, shrinking ever so quickly under his overpowering scrutiny. With a mocking grin as if he were reading her mind, he stood and moved towards her; her desire to run away was never so strong, but to her surprise, he walked passed her to the far end of the table. She followed as if by pure primal instinct, a curious feline sauntering carefree to her doom.

“Step onto the pegs and bend over the table,” he said, placing a hand on the wood. “Reach forward and place a palm on top of each cross mark.” She obeyed without pause, finding the surface cold and hard against her breasts, which she had to smash against the tabletop to cover the symbols. “You will hold this position for each round. If you move out of this position, that round will be disqualified. You may move in between rounds, but only briefly. You may stop at any time by saying 'I surrender', but that means you lose the game.

“The point of the game is to make it through each of the seven instruments. Ideally, this will take seven rounds, in which you earn a reward for every round you complete that you will receive at the end of the game. Losers get nothing but wishful memories, so you get nothing if you quit. Does this make sense?”

“Yes,” she spoke in a breathless whisper.

“Do you have any final questions?”


He looked over her form, lightly tracing her torso to bum with his fingertips, “Are you ready to play?”

Hesitating for a moment, she inhaled deeply before answering, “Yes, I am ready.” Although she could not see his face from her precarious spot, she knew he was grinning that infuriating grin as he walked to where they only just moments before sat and talked so civil, collecting the face cards. Stepping off into the shadows, he placed them next to various tools of exquisite design, efficient in doling intense sensation beyond imagine. Once this was done, he returned to the head of the table, shuffled the remaining deck once before placing them face down in front of him.

“Let's begin,” the words left his lips carrying all the promise of the game's namesake.

(To be continued...)



I kinda wanna know where this goes but I'm a little wary and alot scared!  lol 

Be gentle with her Cade......please!!!!! 

(although time spent chatting with you tells me that ain't likely to happen and my pleads are falling on deaf sadistic smiles)

Curiosity kills ya know ;)


Please please don't be gentle with this girl cade you let them tears pour 😍 I love it and quite literally can not wait for more thank  you for the tease.


Exquisite...like any great book you paint the "scene"so well, envoloping the reader in a depth of visual cues....I don my hat to you and look fwd to the next part.....


I agree with jed and saphy..you lead the story along well giving a good outline of what is to come.I'm sure it is going to go darker.

As with saphy.the girl knows the rules and what to expect and no one but herself to blame.her body should be trembling with expectation.

Well done cade


i can imagen it in my head. i imagen it so much. its awesome. i think as though im the girl. excited but scared at sane time. the thrill of not knowing what would happen would make me squirm if i was her

  • 2 years later...

Brilliant start to what promises to be a great read!

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