HOME | DD

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     Dave had been losing at blackjack all night.  He was down to his last few thousand dollars, and was only one losing hand away from quitting for the night.  The three beers in his system might have been impairing his card-playing ability, but he still knew when to cut his losses.

     "Dealer has 21," said the dealer, whom Dave called 'Mitch,' because he reminded him of his Uncle Mitch in Seattle.  Dave let out a sigh of disgust as Mitch took up all the chips.  He picked up his remaining winnings and dropped them into his pocket.

     "That's it Mitch, I'm done," he muttered, nearly falling off his stool.

     "Very well, sir," piped the cheerful dealer as he dealt new hands out to the remaining players.

     Dave staggered through the Casino, rolling his eyes at the shrine to gambling.  Slots rang to his left; dice rolled to his right; and cards played out behind him.  He moved bleary-eyed toward what he thought was the elevators.

     Two wrong turns and five minutes later, he realized he had no idea how to get to his room.  He stepped up to the nearest gambling table with the intent of asking directions.

     "Excuse me, could anyone …" He was cut off by a cheering gambler to his right who had apparently just won on Black 23.  The Spinner pushed the lucky man his chips and pulled in all the losing bets.  Dave then realized that he was at a Roulette table, and a winning one at that.

     "Can I help you, sir?" asked the balding Spinner calmly.  Dave just stared at the pile of chips that were stacked before the recent winner.  He ignored the Spinner's acknowledgement and hefted himself onto the stool next to the happy gentleman.

     "Well, this seems like enough for me," said the winner, signaling for a waitress and instructing her to help him with his chips.  Dave watched the other three players sneer as the winner hefted his winnings onto the tray and carted them off to the cash-out cage.  There was a moment of disgusted silence as the man slipped into the growing crowd, tossing chips left and right.

     "Place your bets," called the Spinner.  "100 dollar minimum bet."

     Numerous single chips and some triple chip stacks were placed as Dave pulled his money from his pocket.  Fortunately, all he had was 100 dollar chips. He gazed at the table and glanced over the gamblers at the table.

     "What numbers was 'he' playing?" Dave tried to joke, nodding toward the now-vanished winner.  Nobody smiled and everyone groaned.  The Spinner just looked on as he spun the table.  Dave's good humor evaporated as he placed a single chip on 16; his birthday.

     "No more bets," called the Spinner as he launched the ball and let it ride.  Anticipation welled up in Dave's chest as he watched the little white ball go around and around until it started to bounce and then drop into a numbered slot.

     "Sixteen," said the Spinner.  "Red 16 pays to the lucky beginner on my right."

     Dave lightened up as he realized he'd won and the chips came toward him.  His fellow gamblers were not impressed.

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     An hour later, after Dave had gone up considerably, he was back down to about $3000.  However, he had made some progress with the other players.

     Christopher was a regular at the table.  He only played this table and only played one of six numbers.  His lucky number, his birth-year, his birthday, his jersey number, his age, and the number of women he'd slept with.  He claimed that the last number increased on a weekly basis.

     Reginald was from Phoenix, up here for a weekend to get away from the rigors of his law practice.  He figured he might as well try to make as much money as he could with as little effort while he was relaxing.

     Doug was visiting relatives for the holidays and had wandered in here after a late dinner.  He was a broker from New York who claimed that roulette was a science.  He was the only one at the table using a 'system,' though it wasn't helping him any.

     Dave ended up revealing that he was divorced, unemployed, and was risking the last of his money to hit it big.  He said he'd come to Las Vegas to make money, one way or another, and right now, gambling seemed his best route.

     "Have you considered the stock market?" asked Doug, reaching across the table to play place his bet.  Dave shook his head.

     "I need money now, Rog," Dave explained.  "I don't have time to wait for the market to be right and for the stocks to be rising."  He once again played Red 16.

     "Las Vegas," mumbled Chris.  "The home of get rich quick games and money guzzling slot machines … Leesa!" he called to a passing waitress.  Dave watched her walk over, a Hispanic girl who looked about 21-years-old, in a tight fitting outfit that accented her long legs and considerable bosom.  Not to mention about a mile of cleavage.

     Chris ordered another round, which would be Dave's sixth Heineken tonight.  Everyone at the table had a good buzz going.  Doug with his Margaritas and Reginald with his vodka.  Dave was catching a parting glance at Leesa's ass when the Spinner piped up, "No more bets."

     Four sets of eyes turned to the wheel and noticed it wasn't spinning.  All eyes looked up at the Spinner, who seemed to be awaiting their undivided attention.

     "Are you gonna spin or what?" blared Reginald with a shower of spittle.  The Spinner's face remained stolid as he leaned closer to the four men.

     "I couldn't help but notice your desires; Especially yours," he motioned to Dave.  "You all wish to have your dreams come true."

     Chris and Doug sat back and cocked an eyebrow.  Reginald rolled his eyes and sighed.  Dave remained focused on the Spinner.

     "Yeah, who doesn't?" Dave then blurted.  "You gonna rig the table for us or something?"

     "Not as such," said the Spinner nonchalantly.  "But I might be able to up the stakes in your individual favors."

     Dave liked improved stakes and was deliriously curious as to what the Spinner was talking about.  Even Chris and Reginald started to listen.

     "It just so happens," started the Spinner, "That for a modest fee I can make your betting return turn into your spoken desires." Reginald rolled his eyes again and sat back.

     "What?" Reginald exclaimed. "You're telling me you can give us, like, wishes instead of money?"

     Doug and Chris scoffed at the assumption, but Dave remained fixated on the Spinner, whose expression didn't waiver a bit.  After a long minute, Reginald added half-heartedly, "Can you?"

     The Spinner sat back up and prepared for his pitch.

     "I present to you gentlemen the chance to bet on your wishes, take it or leave it.  For 100 dollars and a request, your chip will grant said request if the ball pays your number.  I offer this to you now, and only now.  You should all desire to take a chance on your destiny before we can continue."  An eerie calm washed over the gamblers, save for the activity around them. Chris was the first to speak up.

     "How do we know you're for real?" Dave asked.

     "You desire a test?" asked the Spinner.

     "Yeah!" blurted Reginald, "Prove it …" and with that, Reginald slapped a 100-dollar chip on the table.

     "I wish I were six-foot-tall!" declared the 5'6' Arizona native with a look of contempt in his eye.  The Spinner just glared at him.

     "Ouch!" squawked Reginald as he pulled his hand away from the chip like it was on fire.

     Every eye at the table watched as the coin turned gold that glowed like the finest polished brass.  As they continued to stare at the impossible spectacle, Doug was the first to notice the wheel spinning.  The Spinner quickly launched the ball into the wheel as Reginald and the other three watched.

     Around it went, eventually arching down into the slots where it bounced a few times and then came to rest in Red 34; the number the gold coin was on.

     "Thirty-four," said the Spinner, "Red 34.  Pay-out goes to the tall gentleman to my left."

     The gold coin suddenly shot off he table toward Reginald.  He jumped back reflexively but the coin never touched him.  The other men watched in awe as the coin flew around Reginald in ever faster circles until it long streak of light that circled him six or seven times.

     Inside the photon ribbon, Reginald felt his body change and grow as his perspective shifted up six inches.  Then, as suddenly as it had begun, the light vanished and Reginald stood there at his new height of six feet.

     Everyone was speechless.  Reginald touched his arms and chest, reminding himself that it was real.  He looked around the room with his new higher vantage point.  Then something occurred to him.

     "Hey, my clothes still fit!"  Everyone realized that he was right.  His business suit fit him perfectly.

     "A courtesy," said the Spinner.  "Not only your clothes, but everything in your life has changed to reflect your new height.  I only let you retain the memory of being short to prove my power was real."

     Reginald thought about it for a second and realized he was right.  He clearly remembered having a secondary growth spurt when he was 16-years-old that took him up to six feet.  He'd tried for college ball but messed up his knee and turned to a law degree.  Yet he still retained the faint memory of who he had been just two minutes ago.

     "Unbelievable," was all Reginald could say as he took his seat once more, every eye at the table still on him.  Eventually, all eyes turned back to the Spinner, who retained his solemn look.

     "Who will make the next wish?" he asked.

     The following barrage of suggestions was too much for most men to comprehend.  Each man started slapping down each of his 100-dollar chips and calling out a decree.

     "I want ten million dollars!" shouted Dave.

     "I want to be 21-years-old again!" Chris piped.

     "I want to be a genius!" said Doug.

     "I want my hair back, too!" yelled Reginald.

     "STOP!" the Spinner directed.  Each man froze with a chip in hand and stared into his eyes.  "Only three desires may be played at a time, and no desire may be played twice."

     Reginald and Chris looked confused while Doug stared at the golden coin before him.  Dave crossed his arms.

     "What?" Chris said, still running the Spinner's words through his head.  Dave leaned in and summed up the Spinner's rules.

     "We can only have three gold chips on the board at a time," he said.  Chris looked at the gold chips and lowered his brow.

     "And we can only make any wish once," Dave continued.  A look of disappointment crossed Chris's face as Doug and Reginald placed their first chips.

     Doug's two other wishes were for a beach house in Malibu and to win the lottery.  Still following his system, he placed the chips so they were all equal distances from each other on the table.

     Chris wished for a sex drive that wouldn't quit and a lovely woman to share it with.  He used his lucky number, his jersey and his birthday for these special bets.

     Reginald decided to wish for a million dollars and a red Ferrari.  He debated his numbers for a long time before choosing the 'good' ones.

     Dave wished for a new wife with great legs and for a private jet.  He decided not to think too much about his choices and just tossed the coins on the field at random.

     Finally, the Spinner sent the ball around the wheel and four pairs of eyes focused on it.  It slowed and bounced and landed in Red 23.  The Spinner placed his crystal marker on the table and pulled all 12 coins in.  Utter disappointment crossed all the men's faces.

     "It's gonna be a long night," muttered Chris.

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     They played into the night and quickly learned to tone down their wishes since they could only play them once.

     Pay-outs were few and far between.  Chris got a 1999 4x4 pickup and Doug got a degree in astrophysics from UCLA.  In one particularly lucky spin, Reginald got a partnership at his law firm.

     Dave was wishing for higher dollar amounts in multiples of one million, and every once in a while wished for another wife.  But he was running out of hair and eye color combinations, and also out of money.

     The alcohol was still flowing steadily.  Leesa was just dropping of the latest round when Chris leaned over to her.

     "Hey baby," he slurred, "Want me to make your dreams come true?"

     Leesa smiled politely and headed back to the bar.  Chris's eyes lingered after her as she went.

     "Shameless," he muttered as she moved out of sight.  He turned back to his fellow gamblers and smiled.  "Shame to see a woman like that go to waste."

     "What's that supposed to mean?" Dave queried over his Heineken.  All eyes turned to Chris and awaited an explanation.

     "A body like that?  Working here?" he laid out.  "If I had a body like that I'd wouldn't be caught working here."  Everyone snickered.

     "I hear ya'," agreed Reginald.  "Where I come from, if I had half her looks I'd probably be knocked up by now."  Doug guffawed and slapped Reginald on the back.

     "Shit!  If you two looked like that, I'd pimp you both out to the highest bidder!"  The laughter continued.  Dave finally waved his hands and drew the other's attention.

     "Guys … We all know the key to making it as a woman is tits!"  Beer bottles clinked and heads nodded in recognition of Dave's words.  "And if I had a set of knockers they'd be twice that big so I'd never have to worry about money again!"

     Everyone laughed out loud and Doug nearly spit up his pretzels.  Chris stood up and pulled out the front of his shirt as they chuckled.

     "Titties!" he screamed, drawing a lot of attention from the casino.  He then stood on the ring of his stool and started calling for women with big breasts to come and join them.  Reginald quickly told him to shut up and hey laughed it off.

     Dave held up a 100-dollar chip and showed it to the guys.  He made sure he had their attention before he spoke.

      "I say we each ask for four breastful beauties and bet different numbers."  He let the suggestion sink in.  "If one of us wins, we all win!"

     The other three heads nodded in agreement.

     Each of them then held up a chip and wished for four, blonde, beautiful women with tits the size of cantaloupes that would be theirs forever.  Soon four gold chips were placed on random numbers throughout the field.

     "Place all bets," reminded the Spinner as he held up the ball and twirled the wheel.  The men picked up two other gold coins and placed them.

     "Hey," Doug exclaimed as he confirmed the distance between his chips, "We're all on Red 16!"  They all looked and saw it was true.

     "Looks like 16 makes us all winners in one way or another," mentioned Reginald.  Everyone agreed and let the bets stand.

     "No more bets!" called the Spinner.

     The ball went into the gutter and around the spinning wheel once more.  Chris chugged his beer in anxeity.  Doug never took his eye off his chips.  Reginald chanted his three numbers to himself.  Chris crossed his arms and sat up straight, intent on the ball's movement.  The ball slowed and bounded across and over the wheel and slots until it finally landed with a clatter.

     "Sixteen," announced the Spinner, "Red 16."

     "We won!" shouted Doug.  Chris and Dave had been hoping for one of the 'Busty women' chips to pay out.  Reginald was more than ready to accept his prize.

     "Okay man," Reginald blurted at the Spinner, "Let's have it!"

     There was a pause.  Doug quickly quieted down and stared at the Spinner in anticipation.  Chris and Dave leaned on the tables and waited cheerlessly for the wishes to be granted.  A wide grin slowly crossed the Spinner's face, and Dave cocked and eyebrow.

     "Pay-out goes to the bountiful gentleman on my right; the businessman to my left; the attractive lady to my right; and the family woman to my left."

     There was another pause.  The four men all looked at each other and then back at the Spinner.

     "What lady?" Chris asked.

     "What woman?" Reginald questioned.

     "Bountiful?" Dave said in confusion.

     Doug opened his mouth to speak, but a bright glow caught the corner of his eye.  He looked down at the table and saw that the four chips on Red 16 were glowing.

     "Um, guys," he said concernedly.

     Just as the other three looked at the coins, they launched off the table at their individual targets.  Each man jumped back and tried to brush the coin away as it spun around them.

     Doug's changes were the least drastic.  His shoes became boots and his pants changed from tweed to purple sharkskin.  His shirt became fire red with huge collar.  Gold chains formed around his neck and his glasses darkened.

     Dave fell to his knees.  He then started scratching at his chest and eventually pulled his shirt off.  As he looked down to see what was causing the itch, he watched in horror as two mounds began to form under his nipples.

     Chris leaned forward and held himself up against the edge of the table.  He watched his large hands slim and his fingernails grow.  Looking at his legs he saw a pair of high-heeled shoes on his dainty feet.  Further up, his pants had been replaced by pantyhose and a black leather mini-skirt that hugged the curves of his flared hips.

     Roger lost his balance jumping off the stool and fell back on his ass.  Upon hitting the floor, he noticed a mass of hair that fell into his face.  Reaching up to pull it back, he saw his blue-painted fingernails and collection of rings.  Then his whole torso burned as he watched his stomach and chest expand into three orbs.

     His pants became blue spandex that hugged his smooth legs all the way down to the flats on his feet.  Soon he couldn't hold the sit-up position so he laid down on his back.  Both his hands went to his expanding belly as he began to breath heavily.  His shirt and jacket formed into a tight, white, cotton drop-neck shirt and a long, button-up knit vest.

     When the bright yellow ribbon vanished she remained on the floor as a jolt of pain hit her gut.  Regina screamed with all the voice she could muster under the conditions.

     "Woman in labor!" someone called out.  A mass of people rushed to aide or gawk.  A lovely blonde woman pushed through them all and took her hand.

     "It's okay Reggi.  Chrissi's here.  Breath … that's it."

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     "I hope she'll be okay," Chrissi stated as the paramedics wheeled Regina out of the casino on a gurney.  The cute paramedic said the contractions were several minutes apart still and there was plenty of time to get to the hospital.  She had wanted to go with Reggi but Doug wouldn't let her.

     "She'll be fine," said Doug as he slipped a hand around her waist.  "That girl gave up a law partnership to come work for me.  I take care of my girls."

     The 'Escort Businessman,' guided Chrissi toward the main entrance where her truck was waiting with the valet.

     "I'll bet that's something they don't see everyday around here," Chrissi joked.

     "Yeah," Doug said uninterested.

     "I mean how many pregnant women play roulette in the first place, let alone go into labor when they're number hits?" Chrissi continued cheerfully.

     "Yeah, yeah.  The casino gets a spectacle, and I'm out one of my main attractions."

     "What do you mean?" Chrissi stopped him.

     "Do you know how much some Japanese guys will pay for a pregnant chic?  I mean, the fatter the better!" Doug said, continuing with her toward the door.

     "Where are we going?!" Chrissi insisted.

     "Back to work," Doug snapped.  "This isn't your turf."  Outside, Chrissi handed over the valet ticket and turned to her noble employer.

     "Can you tell my how it is Reggi got pregnant before you?" Doug said bluntly.

     "What?!"

     "Well, I mean .. She's tall for a chic, but she doesn't have half you looks.  If I had a pregnant chic that was a real looker …" Doug trailed off.

     Chrissi shook her head.  "No way!  I ain't giving up this figure for you or nobody.  I bring in plenty of high-paying Johns on my own."

     The truck arrived and he opened the passenger side door.

     "You've got a face and a body, Chrissi," Doug analyzed.  "You're only missing one thing."  He shut the door before she could protest. She glared at him, took the keys from the valet and handed over a $100 tip.  She climbed into the driver's side and immediately confronted her boss.

     "What's wrong with me?" she said self-consciously.

     "Frankly, you could use more tits."  Chrissi just scowled.  Doug was silent until she started the truck.

     "You need a set like that broad that was next to you at the table."  Chrissi snickered.  "What's so funny?"

     "Well, Doug … You may have a degree I astrophysics, but I'm not sure you now you're biology," Chrissi snickered.

     "What?"  Doug repeated as they drove away from the casino.

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     Back inside, the crowds had broken up and the table had been closed after the excitement.  The remaining player from the game was forced to move along and find another money-making scheme.

     As he crossed the casino floor amidst a swarm of second glances and hard stares, he caught glimpse of a sign indicating a contest at the bar.  He smiled to himself and headed straight for the lounge.

     At the entrance there was a desk set up where a man was taking people's names and vital information for the contest.  Dave got in line and calmly waited his turn.  When he stepped up, the man didn't even look up from his paper.

     "Name?" he said directly.

     "David Nelson," he answered clearly.  The man's brow lowered.

     "You realize this is a wet T-shirt contest, right?" the man said as he looked up at Dave and caught an eyeful of cleavage.

     Dave had seen this look before.  It was the same look Mrs. Gerchenski gave him his first day of his Sophomore year.  The same look his Aunt Ariel gave him that first Christmas after they arrived.  It was, in fact, identical to the look his roommate had given him when they first met in college.

     He bent over, interlaced his fingers, and propped his elbows on the table.  Setting his chin on his fingers and his ample breasts on the table, he watched the man's eyes follow his cleavage.  He let him stare for five more seconds before clearing his throat.

     The man finally looked into Dave's eyes, still in utter bewilderment.

     "You see," Dave started, "I came to Vegas to make some money; one way, or another.  Now, you can show me the regulation that stipulates the contestant has to be female, or, you can take my name, give me the T-shirt, and hand me the check after I've won."