Round 1, Match G: Sarah Young vs. Etta Stark

Here, in random order, are the stories--each of them is exactly 500 words long! Comments are moderated, and will be posted anonymously by me on the main blog, once the voting period is over. Judges, please remember to post according to the guidelines laid out in this post on the main blog.

Please come join in the fun at the Hot-Off Facebook event, to share your general and generous praise of the stories!

Story 1

Mid-morning light streamed into the unfamiliar bedroom. I’d met the guy, Sean, sleeping beside me less than twelve hours before, setting a record for the shortest time between first introduction and furiously ripping one another’s clothes off before partaking in mind blowing sex. Our first conversation had been basically “You know Gary too? Cool. What’s your name? Do you live nearby? Can we go back there? Like right now?”

He’d fucked me hard and fast and beautifully. I was sore all over and hoarse from coming. Afterwards we talked. Then fucked. Then talked. Then fucked. Apparently, sleep had featured at some point.

Sean opened one eye “Morning gorgeous,” he said pulling me into a hug. It was a very satisfactory cuddle ending with me breathlessly coming as Sean’s dexterous fingers played my cunt like a well tuned instrument.

Afterwards, I lay in bed and looked around his bedroom. It was much more stylish, light and understatedly artistic than I would have expected. The one thing that stood out was the door on the far wall. Unlike the rest of the modern decor, it was dark, old and slightly menacing. It looked like it had been transplanted there from a medieval castle.

“What’s on the other side of the door?” I asked.

“That’s my sex dungeon,” Sean said nonchalantly.

“What?” I asked, biting back a giggle. I had no idea if he was being serious or not.

He began kissing my naked breasts. “See the thing about me that you need to know,” he said in between kisses, “is that I really am a massively kinky bastard. Not that I didn’t love last night – I did, every minute of it – but just know I would love to bend you over a bench, tie you up and spank you until you scream. “

I swallowed. I felt like he had been inside my head looking at my secret sexual fantasies. All those BDSM books I read, full of situations that I fantasised over. How did he know?

“That sounds... hot,” I managed.

He rolled me over so that I was lying on my front and ran his fingers lightly over my backside. “I would love to take a cane to this wonderful arse of yours,” he said. “A dozen bright right stripes across here would suit it beautifully.”

“Are you going to show me your dungeon?” I asked.

Sean laughed. “Sorry, sexy. I was teasing you about that. I don’t really have a sex dungeon. That door just leads to a closet. I have no idea why the former owners decided to install a closet door like that.”

My heart sunk. Was it all a tease?

“I do have canes though.” he whispered in my ear. “If you still fancy it without the dungeon?”

“Fuck yes,” I said.

“Excellent.” He sat up on the bed. “Come on you. Over my lap. I think a hand spanking will start us off nicely. This is going to be a very interesting morning.”

Story 2

Alice jumped when she heard the door open behind her, the finality of the clicking lock causing her already shivering naked body to go ice cold. She couldn't see him with her forehead pressed against the wall, but she knew he was there, waiting. He didn't say a word, but she heard the clink of a belt buckle, the whoosh of several canes, the thump of him dropping a paddle onto the bed. 

Turning her face towards him, pleading, "Sir, please..." He snapped his fingers loudly and pointed to the wall. Obediently turning back, tears dripping off of her nose onto her thighs, she cried "I didn't mean to throw it! One second I was peacefully eating my dinner, and the next you were being grumpy about the food, and then your face was covered in, lumpy apparently, mashed potatoes, and I'm sorry, Sir!! So incredibly sorry!" Alice crumpled sobbing into her hands. 

Eventually, she felt herself being gathered in Louis' strong warm arms and carried over to the bed. "Baby, you're freezing!  I realize you didn't turn the heater on because I sent you straight to the corner, and that's my fault. Also, it wasn't my intention to "be grumpy" about the food, but I see my words really hurt you. I'm genuinely sorry that I caused you pain, precious girl." his voice steeled slightly, "However, you have many recourses for when I'm being a buffoon. Not one of them includes throwing things, including mashed potatoes. At. My. Face." Alice tried not to laugh, but remembering his face dripping mashed potatoes caused her mouth to quirk as she fought a smile. With a slight twinkle in his eye, but firmly, he continued, "I think you're warming up, so I'm going to continue that process. By starting a raging fire on your ass." Before she could protest he flipped her over his knees.

He started out with mild stinging swats across her cheeks. "I planned on a lengthy session to show you who's boss, but I can see that was my wounded pride.  Instead, you're only getting a hand spanking. But it's going to be a doozy."  With the word "doozy" the pain increased exponentially, fast and hard the swats turned into smacks, culminating in a relentless wall of heat. When Alice thought her poor bottom couldn't take any more, he moved down to her sit spots and thighs. With nothing to brace herself or grab onto she had no relief; nothing to diffuse the pain. She had to accept every blow as the fire built and the tears streamed. Punctuating key words with hard smacks Louis continued, "If I offend you, your job is to tell me. Even put a little spice into your speech, if needed, to get my attention. But throwing things is completely unacceptable and will not be tolerated. Is that clear, Little Girl?" Alice sobbed out a "Yes Sir!!", and Louis pulled her into his arms. He rocked and cuddled her until she fell asleep.

Round 1, Match F: Adaline Raine vs. JS Morbius

Hold onto your hats, judges, because we've got another actual competition, with two great stories!

Here, in random order, are the stories. Comments are moderated, and will be posted anonymously by me on the main blog, once the voting period is over. Judges, please remember to post according to the guidelines laid out in this post on the main blog.

Please come join in the fun at the Hot-Off Facebook event, to share your general and generous praise of the stories!

Story 1

Kaylin traced the old wooden door with her fingertips and trailed downwards, searching for a doorknob but found none. She dreamed about a dark cherry-wood one last night and though not usually inclined to fanciful whims followed the urge to search for it. Now here it stood without a way to enter.

“Of all the things...” She inhaled deeply then pictured it open and inviting. Kaylin held her arm straight out, closed her eyes and took a step.

To her immense surprise she entered into a dimly lit shop with bottles of all shapes, various sizes, some filled with glowing liquid in nearly every shade of the rainbow and more. She spied a purple bottle in the shape of tear drop and hesitantly wrapped her fingers around it.

“Just what the hell do you think you're doing!?” A grumpy, irritated voice cracked across the space while a decrepit man shambled towards her seemingly out of nowhere.

She startled then let go of the pretty amethyst vial and could only watch in horror as it smashed beautifully against the concrete floor. “Oh! I'm so sorry!”

“Do you know how much my potions are worth? How did you get in here? You stupid cow!”

She sobbed as the realization of what her breaking and entering then damaging goods would sound like to law enforcement. “I followed a dream!”

“Show me what you did to enter.” His voice cracked again and sounded even grumpier than before.

“I pictured coming through in my mind.” Kaylin shrugged and repeated her earlier actions. “I swear I'll pay you!”

“Tell me of this dream.” A much softer though deeper voice commanded.

She nodded through her tears than yanked her arm back as if burned. A tall, blond haired, muscled man stood where the old man had been seconds earlier. His eyes were a dazzling light blue that appeared to glow as if some mystical power lit them from inside and his ears were oddly pointed.

“How?”

“It's a spell but first explain.”

She couldn't take her eyes off him and simply shrugged. “I don't know.”

“Do you know what I do to women who force themselves into my sanctuary and destroy my goods?”

He touched the side of her hip and pulled her back into reality.

“No, what?” She squeaked as his fingers reached around and drummed against her bottom.

“They work off the cost of the broken items. But first,” his tone dipped lower, “they get punished.”

“Who are you? What punishment?” Kaylin inhaled sharply as he leaned down and whispered in her ear.

“I'm Eldrin and I mean physically.” He tapped his hand against each cheek to punctuate his message. “I cannot replicate the potion you spilled so we better get used to each other.”

“Great.” She replied now curious of his threat and for what plans he had in store.

Story 2

After four and three-quarter hours I finally saw the name of a road I recognized and quickly shoved my hand in to my pocket, to pull out the paper with the directions on. Placing the only things I'd brought with me carefully on the ground I unfolded the paper and glanced back and forth between the road sign and the directions a couple of times, before I finally convinced myself I was in the right place.

Taking a deep breath I slipped the paper back in to my pocket, picked up my items and began to walk down the road. Every few houses I turned to check the property number before carrying on until, about halfway down the street, I finally found the place I was looking for. The place I'd dreamed about entering every night for the last six months.

Placing my hand on the gate I lifted the catch, pushed it open and began to walk up the path. With the butterflies in my stomach doing somersaults I climbed the three steps separating me from my goal, lifted my hand and knocked, slightly harder than probably necessary, on the small pane of frosted glass in the centre of the heavy oak door. While I waited for someone to answer I glanced up and down the street, and saw more than one or two sets of curtains twitch, as if I was being watched.

Shrugging my shoulders I turned back to face the door at exactly the second it was swung open and we finally saw each other, in the flesh, for the first time. For what felt like hours neither of us spoke instead we just stood there staring at each other, neither of us knowing what to say, until you finally broke the ice.

“You came?”

“I promised you I would, and I never break my promises,” I replied, lifting my hand and offering you the roses. “These are for you.”

Slowly you lifted your hand and took the flowers from me.

“These are beautiful.”

It was then I noticed a small tear forming in the corner of one of your eyes.

“Hey what's wrong?” I asked, reaching for your hand.

“Nothing. I'm okay. Please come in.”

Stepping back you allowed me in before closing the door and turning back to me.

“I really didn't think you'd come.”

“Believe me, Kelly, nothing would have kept me away from your door today,” I replied, before wrapping my arms around your waist, pulling you close and kissing you for the first time. Nervously you pulled away, and looked up.

“What about, you know, my secret.”

“What about it?” I ask, pulling you as close as possible.

“Doesn't it bother you what people will say?”

“Fuck them. As far as I'm concerned you are the most perfect woman I have ever met, and just because you're transsexual makes no difference whatsoever.”

Round 1, Match E: Justine Hollander, bye

Just one story this week, I'm afraid--but it's soooo good! Judges, please do comment to tell Justine how much you loved her work! Comments are moderated, and will be posted anonymously by me on the main blog, once the voting period is over. Judges, please remember to post according to the guidelines laid out in this post on the main blog.

Please come join in the fun at the Hot-Off Facebook event, to share your general and generous praise of the stories!

Story 1

His usually expressive face stares at me, apparently stunned.

“You called it what?”

My face warms.  A flush takes over my normally fair and freckled skin.

“Door number three.”

Again, the stare.

“Seriously?”

I nod.

Just as I wonder whether Jack is having second thoughts about his new girlfriend, he smiles and pulls me back into his tight embrace.  My legs straddle his waist. His slick, crimson cock juts forward between my pussy lips.  Our bodies are covered in a sheen of sweat from a night of fucking; the air thick with the smell of sweat, sex, and the coffee roasters downstairs.

“Autumn, that’s the most fucking awesome term I’ve ever heard an asshole called.”

I’ve just revealed how my college roommates and I used to refer to mouth, pussy, and ass fucking.  Ten years later, I still can’t shake the expression.  Now, after three months of dating, and the same number of fingers having prepared my virgin hole, tonight i’m getting fucked in ‘door number three’.

Jack’s shown me the intimacy and eroticism to be found in anal play, and it excites him that he’ll be my first.

“Alright sweetheart, up you go.”

Strong hands lift me until my pussy sinks down over his thick, pulsing cock. Each inch grips his shaft, sending heat and tremors through my core as his thumb rubs my swollen, aching clit. Wetness coats his hips and my thighs as we slap together in a frenzied rhythm.

“Now, Jack.  Please!”

I roll on my back, but he turns me over.

“Sweetheart, I wish I could watch your eyes, but this’ll feel better for you from behind.”

Quickly i’m on my knees, ass in the air, my head resting on my hands.

“Aaauuggghhh,” I cry out as his tongue slides up the length of my crack before zeroing in on my twitching ring.  It always feels like the first time when his tongue rims me, lighting up every nerve just inside.

I hear the click of lube being opened, followed by the slick sounds of him stroking himself.

One finger, then two, easily glide past the snug ring as hot lips kiss and suck the flesh of my pale cheeks.  His fingers stroke in and out, alternating between twisting and scissoring. It feels incredible, but I beg for more.

Without pause, he enters me with little resistance, groaning as he does.  I inhale sharply as my body yields to the stretch and pressure. He pulls out, before sinking in again.  The sensation of his length penetrating so deep inside of me sends tremors through my spine.  Together, a rhythm, almost a dance, rises between us until his hips touch against my cheeks as we gasp and grunt with every stroke.

Wet fingers reach under, finding my clit, pinching and rubbing it hard until I explode, bucking against him, as his seed pulses deep inside of me.

Collapsing on the bed together, wet, sticky and sated, we laugh, planning our next adventure through ‘door number three’.

Round 1, Match D: Tara Crescent vs. Livia Grant

Here, in random order, are the stories. Comments are moderated, and will be posted anonymously by me on the main blog, once the voting period is over. Judges, please remember to comment according to the guidelines laid out in this post on the main blog.

Please come join in the fun at the Hot-Off Facebook event, to share your general and generous praise of the stories!

Story 1: A Close Call

"I'm so disappointed in you, young lady. You know the rules, and yet you flagrantly break them at every turn.  I got not one, but two complaints about the unusual sounds coming from your room last night.  You may be able to fool the innocent, young women around you, but don't think I don't know you had your boyfriend in here again.  I know you were fornicating."

Chrissy tries not to giggle at the way Ms. Dodds always says the word fornicating.  As uptight as the dowdy woman is, Chrissy suspects the forty year-old woman has yet to fornicate - ever.  Instead, it seems her sole passion in life is preventing the young women in her charge from having any fun whatsoever.

Not for the first time, Chrissy curses being forced by her ultra conservative parents to attend their alma mater.   Saint Agnes College is the most conservative private college in existence.  It's a miracle she and her brother were ever born, considering how uptight her parents are about sex. She wouldn't be surprised if they'd had sex exactly three times:  their wedding night to consummate their union, and once each to produce their offspring.  

Chrissy is jarred back to the lecture in progress, courtesy of the matronly women's dorm jailer.

"You know perfectly well no males are allowed in this building.  Parents have entrusted the virtue of their daughters to me.  Don't make me have engineering install a security camera.  I've done that before when I had a particularly persistent young woman determined to throw her innocence away.  That was over a year ago and as expected, she was caught sneaking in a particularly unsavory fellow with tattoos.   If she's lucky, she's just now able to sit on her bruised bottom after the severe paddling she received from Professor Fulton.   After she was expelled, her parents came to collect her.  Her father paddled her again in front of her friends to make an example of her.  I've met your parents, missy.  I'm sure they'll agree the paddle is the best course of action for a floozy like their daughter."

Chrissy learned long ago the fastest way to stop the lecture is submission.  "Yes, Ma'am."  

Finally, Ms. Dodds moves to the door and with a final glare, stomps out, slamming it shut.  Chrissy barely has time to heave a sigh of relief before a large hand grasps her ankle, squeezing hard.

"Jimmy, stop it!  That was too close.  I told you, from now on, we're doing this at your place."    

Chrissy's hunky boyfriend struggles to extricate himself from his hiding place under her bed.  The second he's free, Chrissy is thrown to the bed, trapped beneath his muscular body.

She's grateful he's whispering.  "All the talk of blistering your ass with a paddle has me so turned on, baby."   Without warning, Jimmy is buried deep inside her.

The last coherent thought Chrissy has before tipping into bliss is how much she loves fornicating.

Story 2: 

I hear the whoosh of the whip before I see it. It makes contact with my body and I watch my skin redden in response. My breathing quickens; I stifle a moan. This is everything I’ve always wanted. Everything I’ve secretly hoped for. Yet, this is so unexpected.

***

Earlier that evening…

“You realize I’ve never been to your house before?” I tease Anton. We’ve been dating for three months, and I’m beginning to fall in love. My emotions have that sparkle of excitement that a new relationship always brings. Everything’s hopeful. Everything’s filled with possibility.

“Perhaps I’m hiding deep, dark secrets,” he replies. Though he sounds amused, there’s an undercurrent of something dark in his voice.

“Are you?” I ask seriously. “Because I am.”

His lips twitch. He opens his front door and gestures me in, flipping on the entryway light as we walk in. “What secrets are you hiding, Lily?” His body moves against mine, pushing me against the wall. His hands envelop mine and hold me captive. I can feel the weight of his arousal pressing against my body. This man wants me.

“Is it,” his lips caress a tender spot at my neck, before nipping sharply, “that you need to tell me that you want to be spanked? Possessed? Taken by me, succumbing to my control?”

I gape at him, shocked. “How?” I would have sworn that I’d kept my desires hidden, waiting for the right point in our fledging relationship to tell him what I needed from him sexually.

“Sweet Lily,” his lips kiss a path from my neck down to the swell of my breasts, “you can’t take your eyes off my belt. When my hand caresses your ass, you tense, waiting for a spank.” His mouth grinds into mine. “Is this what you want? To give up control?”

We’ve been dating for three months, and trust has built in that time. I nod. “Yes.”

He studies me with his dark, dark eyes. Then he takes my hand in his, and leads me down the hallway.

***

“Walk through the door.”

“What’s on the other side?” I bite my lip nervously.

“Your fantasies, brought to life.”

“Are all fantasies meant to be brought to life?”

He eyes me. “How will you know, until you try?”

My hand reaches for the doorknob.

***

And here I am, in Anton’s dungeon. I’m strapped to a St. Andrews Cross, facing him. My breasts bulge as a result of the strands of rope he’s carefully wound around them. My nipples ache from a pair of nipple clamps, with little bells on them that chime every time I twitch.

I face outward, and his eyes run over every inch of my body. Desire dances on my skin, for this man, for what he could make me feel, and for the unknown nature of what lies ahead.

“If you wish to continue,” he says, “you’ll need to beg. Tell me you submit.”

My eyes meet his. “I submit, Master.”

Round 1 Match C: Kiki Howell vs. A Second Mysterious Stranger

Unfortunately, one of our writers had computer problems, so we have an unexpected bye for Kiki Howell, the author of one of these stories. She definitely earns her bye, though, with her amazing story, which is one of the two stories below--and because a week without TWO hot little stories isn't worth calling a week, we have a generous mystery opponent stepping up to provide the other.

Story 1

His body moved hers against a tree, stealing the air from her lungs. Her core coiled in the usual fight to ignore all he inspired within her—heart, body and soul. As those who would do them harm for daring to simply look each other’s way echoed with war cries in the distance, his whiskey-spiked breath came warm and erratic across her face. 

As she raised her hands in a moment’s indecision between pushing and grabbing at this beast of a man, his fingers interlaced with hers. Their powers hissed like water sprinkled over fire, and still ignited a streak of magic that shot from her head to her toes. 

“We could make a portal, fall through to a place and time where we are not forbidden to be together,” he growled as his hands slid from hers to her waist. 

This slice of warmth moved her hips forward until his cock, heavy with need, rested against her tight stomach.

With his mouth inches from hers, open and willing, she whispered, “And, so it shall be done. 

A few words chanted together opened a door created out of thin air. He wrapped his body around hers, legs and arms in a tight embrace, as they tumbled through.

When their bodies hit solid ground, before her eyes could open, his mouth covered hers as his hands moved in swift defiance of her clothing. She arched into the heat of his palms sliding over her skin as he lifted her skirt. Her labored breathing caught with the loss of them as he unleashed himself.

To her ready and waiting wetness fell his manhood. The pulse of his magic over his tight skin opened her legs until the muscles in her thighs protested. He tucked her under him. Energy sparked in his palms. He cupped her full breasts. Her heart thumped.

Hands moved to cup her ass, as his mouth moved down to her trembling womanhood. His long hair fell, a shower of silk over her exposed stomach brewing up a vicious storm of her senses.

“The sheer beauty of your wet lips, your red skin… I’ve waited.” he sighed just before his tongue pushed through her folds, opened her to his whims. 

He sucked in her clit. An ache tightened her stomach, created a throb of desire. Her hands grappled for him as she opened her eyes to the forest floor. The mingle of his love, his magic, overwhelmed as she tangled her fingers in his hair, pulled him down hard against her, and allowed his tongue to dart inside.

In a harsh slither, he moved his body until he plunged into her. Light exploded around them as they joined. Her body opened to his harsh invasion, sent the burn of glorious, happy tears to her eyes as she gasped.  Inside her, his erection caused contractions along with surges of power which shot from her fingertips. He trembled. She clung to, moved in rhythm with, and mingled magic amidst her forbidden lover.

Story 2

The door slammed shut, and she spun around in fright, pressing herself against the kitchen counter. Sean was home early. Her heart pounded as the sound of his footsteps approached in a deep and steady rhythm like a base drum. She heard him stop just out of view of where she stood, still frozen to the spot. Jewel’s mouth was dry, her knees feeling weak. He wasn’t supposed to be home for another few hours. This couldn’t be good. 

His solemn face appeared around the door frame, his lips slightly pressed together in a way that was usually a sign of anger or disappointment. Her heart dropped. There had been rumours that his company was about to start laying people off. Sean had worked there for fifteen years, always on time and willing to work overtime if needed. He rarely took time off, and was never home early. Her mind began to race. How were they going to keep up the mortgage and the bills? She’d have to go back to full time work after only just getting used to the part time hours. 

Jewel took a breath and tried a supportive smile, her feigned confidence wavering as he shuffled around the door frame and slowly walked towards her. He stopped once their bodies were just touching, his head bowed so their foreheads met, and his eyes closed. She searched his face for a sign of hope that things would be alright but found none, so instead she reached her arms around his waist and pulled him close. The whisper of his business shirt against her thin blouse sent tingles up her spine as her body reacted to the realisation that very little material kept them from being skin to skin right now. Her nipples hardened, and she mentally chastised herself. This was not the time. 

As though he knew her inner turmoil, Sean leaned back just enough to brush his lips against the tender skin where her neck and shoulder met. His large hands were splayed across her upper back, holding her firm against his chest as he peppered kisses along her flesh. Jewel sighed in pleasure as her worries were pushed to the background. As long as they had each other, nothing else mattered. They always found a way. 

She lifted her arms and wrapped them around his neck, burying a hand in his thick hair. A glint in his eyes told her all she needed to know, and she stood on tiptoes as he grabbed her ass and raised her to sit on the countertop. He pushed her skirt up her legs as she spread her knees, letting him see that she wasn’t wearing underwear. Sean grinned. 

Jewel paused. She had to say something. “Everything is going to be fine. We’ve always find our way. We can do it again.”

His face lost all emotion for a moment and she feared that the mood was ruined. 

“Oh I’m not worried. I quit. Baby, I won the lotto!”

Round 1, Match B: Will LaForge vs. A Mysterious Stranger

So, funny story. When I put together the match-ups for Round 1, because there turned out to be only 15 confirmed writers, one writer randomly got a bye into Round 2, though I also said that that writer would have to contribute a story, and that perhaps a mystery opponent would appear. The very amiable Will LaForge volunteered almost immediately to be that mystery opponent.

Then the writer who was slated to get the bye had to pull out of the tournament. In both fairness and panic, I turned to Will, who graciously consented to take the withdrawing writer's place. Whew.

But what of the mystery opponent, and the need for two stories to keep everyone hot and bothered?

Well, a new mystery "opponent" has appeared! Feel free to guess at his or her identity as you wish, but Will still has the bye. So, judges, I'm hoping you'll be willing to post some positive comments about one or both of the stories, but without voting, because the vote is what you might call moot.

Alright, sorry about all that front matter, and let's get to the stories!

Story 1: The Marsten House

“Go ahead, Lance. What are you waiting for? Stop being a chicken shit.”

“David…shut the fuck up. Just give me a few minutes to think.”

Lance was dizzy from the onslaught of adrenaline juicing his veins.  With slow, deliberate steps, he turned and walked back down the porch steps. The sound of David’s soft footsteps followed. He leaned against the tall oak tree in the front yard, struggling to breathe. Sweat moistened his palms and icy tendrils of fear snaked down his back. The foreboding shadow of the ghoulish Marsten house loomed over him as he nervously dried his wet hands on his jeans.

His best friend spoke softly, “Lance, are you okay?”

Lance looked at David as though he’d recently escaped from the looney farm.  “No, I’m not okay,” Lance whispered. The howl of a wolf pierced the night and he shivered. “I…I don’t think I can do it. Tell me again why this is a good idea.”

David laughed. “Come on dude, you’re kidding…right? This is the chance of a lifetime.”

“If going into that house is such a golden opportunity, then maybe you should be the one to reap the rewards. Seriously, you have more experience with this kind of thing than I do.”

The full moon peeped through the cloud shrouded night sky and cast a surreal glow over the yard. A light came on in an upstairs’ room and both young men looked up to see a woman silhouetted behind a partially drawn window shade.

Lance gasped. “Sssh,” David warned.

The shapely woman faced the window and stood with her legs spread wide. If she was aware of their presence, she obviously didn’t care.  She raised the shade until only her face was blocked, but the shadow between her thighs beckoned to Lance and his cock sprang to attention. Her hands slid down her legs and bunched in the hem of her short negligee. Slowly the wispy wrapper inched up her creamy flesh, but stopped just short of paradise. She held the pose for a long second and then the light in the room went out. Lance blinked and she was gone.

David slapped him on the shoulder. “Oh my god, did you see her?”

“Fuck yeah. I’m sure that was Birdie.”

“Well, are you going in there or not?”

Lance adjusted his painful erection. “Maybe.”

“Maybe…are you shitting me? If things were different, I’d be in that house right now with one of the Marsten sisters’ legs wrapped around my neck.”

“I’m sure they would prefer you over me.”

David groaned. “They want a virgin…that’s you, not me. I wish two freaky sisters wanted to take my cherry when I was nineteen. Now stop being a pussy and go get that pussy.”

Lance inhaled a deep breath. “You’re right. I can do this.”

Lance marched up the steps and the gateway to his wet dreams creaked open. He walked into the silent, pitch-black house and the door closed behind him.

Story 2: The Door in the Basement

"Behind that door, Natalie," the grey-haired woman said, "you will learn to serve the pleasure of your new master."

The door looked heavy, and very, very old. The builders of this ancient house had set it deeply into the solid rock that formed the house's foundation. How many girls, Natalie wondered, had gone through that door, clad as she was, in the translucent white silk veil that revealed as much as it hid?

The grey-haired woman, who seemed perhaps fifty, and wore a simple but very elegant black silk gown, had met Natalie at the grand front entrance of the house, where a valet had driven away Natalie's little car. The woman had silently led her through salon after salon to a small dressing chamber. Natalie's jeans had come off, and then her t-shirt.

The woman commanded her, in a cultured voice devoid of any softness, to remove her bra and panties.

Natalie said, "Please, may I keep them on?"

The woman laughed. "What do you think you are here for, child? Do you think your master wishes to see you in underwear that he has not himself chosen? Have you come to the wrong place, perhaps?"

"I don't know," Natalie said, trembling. "I thought I knew what I was doing, but…"

"Well," the woman said, "it is far too late for that now. The moment your car pulled through the gates of this estate, you forsook any chance that you would leave without a collar about your neck. You may meet your master voluntarily, and begin to learn what you came here to learn, or you may learn a different sort of lesson, at the hands of the men who are waiting ready to deal with disobedient girls like you."

"Wh-what will they do?"

"Do you mean, what will they do if you do not remove your underwear and don your initiation veil?"

Natalie nodded mutely.

"They will whip you, my dear, of course. They will whip you not until you are ready to do as I say, which will be almost instantly, but until they tire of marking your body and hearing you cry out."

"Oh, no. Please. Please, I don't want to do this anymore." Natalie's breathing came in ever shorter gasps.

The woman sighed. "My dear, who drove your car through the gates?"

"I did," Natalie whispered.

"And thus, one way or another, within the hour you, wearing your veil, will also walk through the door beyond which your master waits to possess you."

"What will he do there?" Natalie could barely hear her own voice, now.

"He will teach you the ways of his body, and of yours, and he will use you for his enjoyment, just as you long to be used. I can assure you that when he has taken the veil from your pretty charms, he will not stay his hand, or his hardness, at these maiden blushes. You are his, now, and you must make up your mind to it."

I hope this round of The Hot-Off gets you as hot as it got me!

Round 1, Match A: Phoenix Johnson vs. Meredith O'Reilly

Here, in random order, are the stories. Comments are moderated, and will only be accepted from registered judges until the voting period is over. Judges, please remember to post according to the guidelines laid out in this post on the main blog.

Please come join in the fun at the Hot-Off Facebook event, to share your general and generous praise of the stories!

Story 1

I banged the door, running in to the nursery. I was looking around for a place to hide, when the door opened, and I was quickly encased in Jackson’s muscular arms.

“Gotcha,” He chuckled, as he picked me up and carried me in to our bedroom. He placed me down on our bed, grasping my hands in his and asked, “What shall I ever do with my little prisoner? Maybe spank her?”

“Oh no, please don’t.” I cried out, as I felt myself becoming aroused.

He flipped me over before I could say anything else.

Smack! “You will not-run away-from me!” He called out, as each of his smacks landed on my jean covered bottom.

My hands bunched up the comforter as I let out a moan as the slight sting from the spanking went to my core and the sounds of my spanking filled the room. I loved when my husband gave me these type of spankings.

Smack! “You will-be a-good girl!” He said, rotating his spanks so they landed all around my bottom.

“Yes, sir.” I cried out, as a particularly hard smack hit me, making my toes curl at the pleasure it sent right to my pussy.

Jackson flipped me over so I was laying back on the bed, my feet dangling over the ground. He unzipped my jeans and said, “Lift your bottom please.”

I did as I was told and he pulled my jeans and panties down. He went down with them and began to lick my wet folds.

“Jackson…” I whimpered out as his tongue swirled around my inner labia, licking up all of my juices.

His hands encircled my thighs and pulled them apart more, as he gently sucked on my swollen bundle of nerves. His tongue moved up and started applying little circles on my clit.

Every single one of my muscles started to tense up as I felt myself at the cusp of my orgasm. Only one more lick of his tongue and I would be over the edge…

He stopped and stood up, causing me to let out a shout of protest.

He quickly flipped me over and gave my naked bottom a few sharp slaps. He turned me back over and reached towards the nightstand for a condom.

I let out a grumble of displeasure because I was left on the edge of my orgasm.

He placed the condom on himself and before I could complain, he plunged his cock all the way in to my pussy.

“Ahh!” I cried out, as my vaginal walls squeezed his hard shaft.

He began to thrust in and out of me as his hand came between us and started to rub circles on my clit.

“You didn’t think that I’d leave you high and dry, did you?”

All I could do was whimper. My muscles were all so tense. I needed to come.


“Come.” He commanded, pulling me closer to him as we came at the exact same time.

Story 2

Chaz couldn’t wait to get through her front door and crash on the couch with some wine, flip on the television, and zone out. It had been an unusually busy and stressful week of work and she just wanted to put it behind her. For a moment she felt pathetic that it was a Friday night, her friends were probably all out at karaoke like usual, and all she wanted to do was relax. But then her left heel wobbled, jarring her ankle. Was she pathetic? No. Just well deserving of a quiet night in. 

Finally reaching the landing in front of her third story apartment, Chaz wrestled with her keys, dropping them and cursing to herself. 

“Just what I damn well need.”

She knelt down and retrieved her keys, jamming them in the lock. A man’s voice on the other side of the door made her pause.

Chaz reached into her purse and grabbed the can of mace. As she swung the door open she held the mace up in front of her. “Don’t move or I’ll spray this whole can in your face.”

The intruder froze, hands up, back to her. Something about the large figure was familiar. Taking a breath to steady herself, she recognized that cologne. “Alex?”

He spun around with a wicked grin on his face. “You gave me a fright, babe.”

“I gave you a fright? You’re supposed to be on the other side of the country right now at a conference!”

“I convinced my business partner he could cope by himself. I needed to be here, with my wonderful lady on our anniversary.”

Chaz mentally slapped herself. She’d been too busy at work to realize the date. Somehow Alex knew that, though, because he winked.

“Don’t worry, I took care of your present for me. It’s really a gift for both of us, one that will keep on giving.”

He reached into a brown bag she hadn’t noticed and pulled out two miniscule slips of white material, holding them out for her. She smiled and rolled her eyes at the see-through chemise. The next slip of material confused her, though. A veil? Chaz raised her eyebrows and looked at Alex’s face. He bit his lip, clearly nervous. A jolt flashed through her as it began to dawn on her. 

She glanced at his hands as he dropped the material and she noticed a little black box that he flipped open. Chaz thought her heart stopped as he sunk to one knee. 

“I know it’s a little cliché, but will you marry me?”

Chaz stuttered, lost for words. Knowing she could never express herself properly, she quickly grabbed the fallen lingerie, grabbed Alex’s hand and pulled him in for a deep kiss. Deciding to be a smart ass, she danced away, waving the lingerie. “You know I’m not wearing this to be married, right?” She winked and wriggled her ass at him, giggling as she ran into the bedroom, Alex right behind.