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!