Copyright Notice: All stories are copyright ©Rebel Poker.
If you wish you may link to these stories. You may NOT copy, edit or reproduce in full or part.

strip poker stories

Death's Favorite Game

Stephanie, my hot 21-year-old neighbor, took a seat on the floor of my livingroom. She had complained of boredom since the summer break from college started. All her friends had gone home to their families, her boyfriend dumped her before finals so he "wouldn't have any distractions," and she only had a part-time job. So I was her only form of entertainment. Of course, I would do my best to entertain her.

I asked if she wanted to play a game. She was in the mood for cards, so I jokingly suggested strip poker. She said it sounded great to her as she took off her shirt to ante. I had won two hands in a row. Stephanie smiled as she took off her bra, exposing her pert, c-sized breasts.

That's when my wife walked in the front door, saw what was going on, jumped to conclusions, took a .44 magnum out of her purse, and shot me.

Everything went dark. I could feel myself slipping into the great beyond. But suddenly I fell into a hard wooden chair with one light overhead. Then the voice...

"You are dying. You have two choices. You can accept the afterlife that summons you, or you may challenge me to a game for your soul. If you win, you may return. If you lose, you will become my slave."

I suddenly realized how real the situation was. Death was speaking to me, giving me a chance to return to my life. I thought it over and chose the game. After all, I gotta get revenge over that bitch who shot me!

"I choose to play for my soul," I shouted into the black surroundings.

"Choose your challenge."

Well, I died playing a game I loved, why not keep at it. Besides, Death only has that robe, how hard could it be? "I choose Strip Poker."

Everything went silent for about ten seconds. Finally Death spoke back. "Are you fucking serious? You're betting your soul over a game of strip poker?"

"Why not?"

Silence. You could practically hear Death shaking his head. "Alright. You have given your challenge. For your convenience, I will assume a female form. One you might be familiar with."

Another light turned on in front of me. Death, in black robe and hood, was sitting in another chair under the light. Then hundreds of candles burst into flames, revealing a room with satin walls, soft red carpeting, and the chairs had become padded and intricately designed. Death pulled back his hood, revealing Stephanie's smiling face. Death really knew what to do!

"The challenge will now begin." He even had Stephanie's beautiful voice. "The rules will be as such: We both start with a pot of $400. After each has lost their money, they may sell their clothing, with prices determined by me. Clothing may be bought back at the same price as sold. And just so it's fair, I have lingerie under my robe," she said with a wink.

I'd better win this game.


Copyright Notice: All stories are copyright ©Rebel Poker.
If you wish you may link to these stories. You may NOT copy, edit or reproduce in full or part.