Poer Night

D/s COUPLE LOOKING TO START POKER NIGHT

Two young, attractive, and successful individuals are looking to start a D/s-themed poker night in the area. The Game is open to all couples and singles age 21 to 40 looking to add a little spice to their weekday nights. $20 buy-in per individual, drinks and snacks provided. Prizes to be discussed at a later time. Please email a picture of yourself, along with a brief introduction, to the address provided.

What this is:

A chance to explore and meet new people with the same interests as you. Oh, and play cards.

What this isn't:

An opportunity to get drunk and stupid. Obnoxious or violent behavior will not be tolerated. Neither will drug use. Anyone violating the rules laid out prior to the Game will be refunded their money and given a permanent introduction to the world. No second chances.

The Game is open to anyone, but we reserve the right to turn anyone away. Hope to hear from you!

****

That was the ad we posted on ALT. A shortened version appeared in the local alternative paper. The response was overwhelming. Literally dozens of people clamored to join the competition. The majority were of course single males; that was to be expected, and we sifted through the requests with a fine-toothed comb, looking for individuals showing a modicum of brains and manners. But a surprising number of couples and single women also applied, their status giving them an immediate ride to the short list. I'd be a liar to tell you that physical attractiveness did not play a large role in our selection process. I'd be a fool to expect you to believe it. The nights we envisioned for our party, My pet and I, required a certain level of sexual interest. And physical beauty plays a large role in that, though not as much as some might expect.

We selected twenty requests from the first batch of almost sixty to be in our first pool. Ten were single males, six were male and female couples, and four were single women, three of whom considered themselves Domme. All had presented pictures that showed an attractive physical appearance. More importantly, they had all managed to respond with a certain level of class, which we interpreted with certain little indicators; spelling and grammar skills helped, and so did the ability to converse for a paragraph without obscene curses. Any idiot that typed with their Caps Lock on found themselves dropped right into the Trash.

Greetings, and thank you for your interest in what we hope to become a regular event: The D/s Poker Night. Having received this email means that you've been selected and given the opportunity to play in our first round. Should this first game and series of games become successful, we may expand the pool further. For now, please be assured that an exhaustive process has ensured that you will find yourself placed with a select group you can be comfortable with.

The Game is simple: Texas Hold 'Em. Your $20 buy-in credits you with $100 worth of chips. Should all 20 recipients of this email confirm they are still interested in The Game, four first-round rounds will be played on four separate nights, leading to a fifth Championship round. The winner of the Championship will receive half the funds gathered in The Game--the other half used to replace the costs associated with this tournament--and a single night of pleasure with my pet, Amy. Enclosed with this letter you will find a picture of this ravishing slut; I'm sure you'll agree an excellent prize indeed awaits the winner.

This is an adult-themed event, so please leave any hang-ups at the door. Do not bring drugs or alcohol. Do not arrive or get drunk at the party. If you look too young to drink we WILL card you; the last thing we need is the authorities ruin everyone's fun. The rest of the rules will be explained on Game night, which we shall schedule very shortly. We hope to hear from all of you, and good luck!

We received the contestants' confirmations within a few days; surprisingly, everyone was still amiable. I'd figured we'd have at least a few dropouts, but much to my surprise everyone was eager for the tournament to begin. We set up the first four games in two weeks, on 3-day intervals. The first was to be on a Friday night. Tonight.

I took a quick look at myself in my pet's full-length mirror. I'd instructed our guests to dress casually but well, and I'd followed my own request. Tan khakis with a gray pullover, and clean sneakers on my feet. I'd shaved just an hour ago and the aftershave still tingled pleasantly on my cheeks. My red goatee was neatly trimmed, and my reddish-blonde hair cut short, never needed much work. Apart from that I was done and ready; unlike my pet, I didn't take much time to get ready.

With that thought and a ready grin on my lips I turned to Amy, watching her twirl her long, dark hair around a fingertip, toe tapping as she surveyed her outfit choices. I'd laid them out earlier in the day, and so far all she'd put on--or rather, all I'd put on for her--was the high black leather collar and silver padlock that kept it around her neck. I walked over and gave her a firm slap on the right asscheek.

"People are going to start getting here in twenty minutes," I reminded her. "I do expect you to be wearing something when they get here."

Amy turned to me with her eyebrows raised. The sparkling in her beautiful hazel eyes was only a bit from the two drinks she'd had earlier in the evening. The rest was pure excitement. "This coming from the man offering me up as a prize for a poker game, and who laid out a nightgown, a bodysuit, and a schoolgirl's outfit as my choices." I enjoyed Amy's spirit even more than I did her sleek body, and I grinned back at her. No doormat this slut, nor would I ever want her to be. "Are you complaining?"

"Maaaybe," she replied, turning back to the outfits that lay before her. She squealed when I wrapped my fist in her hair and pushed her down onto the bed.

"Really?" I asked, pushing her legs apart with my free hand. "Let's check."

"No no no, I've got to get ready--" her protests turned to moans when two thick fingers pushed inside her. I found her warm and soaked, cunt juices already dripping down to her ass. Velvet walls clamped down on my fingers and sucked them deeper between her undulating hips. Within moments she had her bare feet planted flat on the mattress and was fucking me back.

Whimpers of disappointment almost masked the moist sounds her cunt made when I pulled my fingers free. I wiped them clean on her left breast and bent my head, licking up her sweet juices. The nipple hardened and I devoted a few moments' attention to it, flicking my tongue all around the nub. Finally I pulled away, adjusting the very hard cock I had pressed to the zipper of my khakis.

"Enough," I growled hoarsely. "Get dressed, slut, and make sure everything is ready."

She sighed and sat up, mock pouting. "Yes Sir."

I went back out into the living room and flipped the television on. Channel surfing proved once again that the entertainment world could be relied upon for very little, and I settled on an all music channel playing mostly blues and classic jazz. Moving to the liquor cabinet, I put three ice cubes in a glass and poured a generous measure of Bushmills over it. I intended to follow my own rule about drunkenness, to be sure. But apart from a single threesome, in which I shared my slut with another man, this was our first time with other people in a sexual situation. We had never been to a play party or an S&M club, because neither of us found much pleasure in the playacting so many in this lifestyle devoted themselves too. A little relaxation could not be a bad thing in these circumstances.

As I stared philosophically into the amber fluid, I heard a faint cough from the bedroom. I looked up and smiled, mouth gone dry. It the doorway stood my angel, hand pressed to the frame. One leg was up on the toe, couched behind the other and dressed in white knee socks and finished with dainty brown shoes. A plaid skirt barely covered the top half of her thighs and almost met the white, button-down blouse that ended right over her navel. I could see hard nipples peeking pink through the sheer fabric. A good girl always listens when her Master tells her to leave off the bra. Amy's little downturned smile told me she liked what she saw in my eyes. To finish the show she swirled about and lifted the skirt, showing me the pure white thong she wore beneath. Looking back over her shoulder she fluttered her lashes. "Do you like, Sir?" she asked breathily.

"Oh yes," I murmured. One hand stretched out to her. "Come here, My love." With the graceful stride giving her hips the swing a stripper would kill for, she came to me. I crushed her hand in mine and pulled her into my lap. Warm lips connected and clung to mine and a minty tongue probed in my mouth. A quiet squeak tickled my ears and suggested I held her too tight, but I couldn't have let go had I wanted to. By the way she ground down into my lap, I doubt very much she wanted me to in any event. We kissed like fire and I buried my hand in her softly scented hair. She felt like a wet dream and heaven all at once, and I knew completely and utterly that this was the woman I would own for life.

The ringing doorbell cut short our ecstasy. We both jumped and then laughed when we looked into one another's eyes. A ragged breath shook Amy's chest, and I smiled gently into her. "Greet our guests, angel," I directed her, and she climbed from my lap. With a teasing flounce she glided into the kitchen and towards the front door. I stood and followed, the part of my mind not busy staring at her pert ass wondering what this night would bring...