© Copyright 2015 - Rbbral - Used by permission
Storycodes: MF+; pub-talk; fantasies; latex; costumes; maid; kidnap; captives; slaves; bdsm; spank; oral; sex; cons; X
Part 1: Introduction of the Players
“So, we have to take it to the vote… do we proceed or end it now?” I asked.
There was silence for a few seconds, the four of us looking at each other, now well aware of the consequences. The silence went on for a few more seconds; I took a drink from my pint. We were in the pub, “our” local. It was where we manufactured all our great ideas, and, come to think of it, our stupidest ones.
I was hoping that this one, certainly the most important to us all up to now, was a good one, although to many it would seem the stupidest. Its funny isn’t it? A group of friends, the best of mates, come up with an idea and get so involved in it, not one of them sits back and says, hang on a minute, is this such a good idea? Do we really know what we are getting into, and the potential consequences?
But at the time of course, you are being transported along by everyone else’s adrenalin, and there is no calm voice there to say, hold on, think, this sounds a lot of fun, but it could go seriously wrong.
Maybe we did know we were now at the crossroads, so to speak, but none of us actually mentioned it. Finally Tom spoke.
“Absobloodylutely I’m in. Look guys, we’ve been discussing this now for a few weeks, we know the ups and the downs.” I wasn’t so sure we did but I let him continue. Tom was always the impetuous one, the first one out the trenches, damn the torpedoes; we all really loved Tom, probably because of his utter disregard for the possibility of failure. He carried on.
“It’s shit or get off the pot time.” Tom was very original with his analogies!
“No one can predict what will happen at the end, so why bother discussing it any more? It’s time to get the house ready, buy all the stuff that we’ve seen about a hundred times on the sites on the internet – that’s a lot of money and will take a while, and get on with it.” And Tom was the genius who had come up with this one anyway (well, with a lot of help from me) so he was in from the start.
James took a gulp from his pint and nodded, we all looked at him.
“Yep, I’m in, for good or bad, let’s do it. Yeah, it should be fun. They’ll go along with it, I’m sure.” But he didn’t look quite so sure. Then there was silence, again. James was the quiet one, we would not get any more out of him, but at least we got a decision. Once he was in, he was in for the duration. Now we looked at Pete… and he stared back at each of us in turn, then he grinned his goofy grin and nodded. Pete was a bit of a joker, but he knew this was serious stuff now. Tom slapped him on the back and laughed.
“Okay Al, it’s up to you. Remember now, no pressure.” He laughed.
Yes, now it was my turn, three votes in already.
But we were a team, always had been. We did everything together as a team - and we did some crazy things, and we never, ever, did anything as a team unless we all agreed. If it was a tied vote or three to one, we just jacked it in and moved on. It was never acrimonious, we knew each other so well, and with our fertile minds we would always come up with some new ideas for fun and frolics.
I am I suppose a little bit wild by nature (less so now as I get older) but for some reason – fear, retribution, last minute nerves, I don’t know, but I was a little less confident than I thought I would be. The idea that we had formulated over the previous weeks had kept me (and I’m sure the others) awake at night. Oh yes, it was incredibly exciting, mind blowing, but the risks that it would all go a bit haywire troubled me. And now I was baulking, and I was the one, with Tom, that had begun it.
So as I thought on my vote, and the guys would never push me to a decision and so sat back and supped their beer.
And my mind went back to how we met, and how over the years we became such tight mates.
Well, we are all middle class lads who, to coin a phrase, had done very well for ourselves. We all met at university and we were in the same year but in different courses. Although we were not very big, tall and lanky really, we all played rugby and ran a lot, and within a very short time we were that horrible cliché, the inseparable group (or clique). And over the four years I was there, our bond grew.
We never had any hang ups or petty jealousies; we shared everything… even girls. Not in the physical sense at the same time, well not then anyway. But when maybe one of us were dumped, or dumped upon, because we were so tight the girl would know the others in the group, and occasionally would move onto him. It does sound odd I know but over the four years together at college it happened a few times. Eventually I suppose the girls got fed up of the whole deal, and moved on. Smart on their behalf, probably.
Anyway, we eventually all graduated (James, Pete and me first) and, as the saying goes did quite well for ourselves.
We’re now a few years later and we all work in London. We have our own places mostly paid for (I did say we did quite well) but we are still the “group”.
We are the four musketeers. We are the four horsemen of the apocalypse. Unlike the Beatles we are inseparable.
Briefly then, this is us.
As I said Tom is, well, the crazy one, and it’s strange perhaps that he’s a dentist, or maybe not, I don’t know. So he took a bit longer to qualify, but once done he’s gone gangbusters. He has a very successful practice in West London. He seems to attract the young and beautiful, as every time I go to his surgery, there seems to be a couple of beauties there. He’s the dentist for all of us, and listening to his awful jokes is actually more painful than his dental work. He is also the one who has in the past “set us up”.
We are all “attached”. I think now, after all our craziness, and we approach 30, we seem to have found our soul mates, I feel I certainly have. Tom managed to introduce two of us, James and Pete, to their current inamoratas through his practice. These are Suzi and Amanda, who are sisters.
I am the only exception, as I met my Sophie at the England v France match at Twickenham a couple of years ago. She is French and was living in London translating and illustrating children’s books and was there supporting her (French) team. I got mixed with her group, this time the group didn’t get tickets together (an omen perhaps), I gave her a hard time about the result of the game and she gave back as good as she received, which immediately attracted me to her. She is absolutely stunning in a way only French girls can be, confident, smart and yet very chic. Right now she has her mousy hair short, in that very carefully designed dishevelled look, sticking out at all angles. Sometimes I have to pinch myself that she’s with me!
She was no wilting flower, but one tough nut, and it took me a while to crack her exterior. We got into horrendous arguments, and still do, mostly in English, but when she really warms up she moves to French, which I can get about every fourth word, and that’s all I really need. It’s not wedded bliss, but it is exciting, and never a dull moment. She is amazingly adventurous in bed and will try anything, anything… but more of that later.
James, the quiet one, is an engineer. I’ve no idea what he designs but apparently he’s good at it as he seems to be doing well. He doesn’t tell us what he does precisely, and we don’t press. You would think he wouldn’t mix with the rest of us, being so quiet, but remember the old adage that still waters run deep. He will sit to the side taking in all our mindless banter and then in one dry, clipped sentence have us rolling in the aisles. He’d make a very good stand-up, absolutely deadpan with a wicked twist to his humour.
He is with Suzi, the younger of the two sisters that Tom sort of set James up with. Although they are not twins, she and Amanda (Mandy) look very similar, and Mandy is with Pete. They may look alike but in character they are complete opposites. And here’s the bizarre thing, Suzi is the effervescent one, never stops talking and making fun of the rest of us. James loves her dearly, and sits back and watches her ripping into us, the boys.
They are both blonde with short, sort of Peter Pan hair, boyish and chic: I think all the girls like the short hair as they are exercise mad and it is so much easier to manage that way. They are tanned and look as if they have just got off some Australian beach, which often they have as they both seem to take an inordinate time off. They have set up a fashion shop in a “fashionable” part of the west end and do well as far as I can see, charging criminal amounts of money for what seems perfectly ordinary clothing, but then of course that’s fashion isn’t it, and I’m a man.
Mandy is a bit quieter than her sister, but a real cracker, and she keeps Pete pretty much in order. Pete is a lawyer, and you’d think we would hate him just for that, but he’s not like many other lawyers I know. Not only is he funny, witty and quick, he’s like that in court, thinking on his feet will apparently get him far. He’s moving up in the Inns of Court, so I’m told.
Tom is the catalyst, the never say die Tom. He is with Gerda.
Yes, a strange name, and to be honest, a bit of a strange girl (well, woman) to go with it. Tom is absolutely daft over her, and she him, and they are not shy in showing it in public.
I can’t figure out Gerda at all. She has a slight German accent, very slight, and, so she says, is a personal trainer. She certainly has the body for it. She also has short jet black hair in a stern Louise Brooks pageboy look (aaaah, Louise Brooks, now there was a girl ahead of her time) and she walks very erect wearing some clothes that certainly catch the eye. Black and red seem to be the favourites and she likes leather a lot, boots and gloves, and oh yes, tight leather pants. Phew! We really give Tom a hard time about that, and he just raises his eyebrows and says… oh boys, if only you knew, or something to that effect.
She will wear full length macs and hooded capes in the rain, covering herself from top of head to tip of booted toe. It’s all very functional, but it certainly catches the eye. Sometimes she wears a leather collar or choker, with a steel ring at the front. We don’t hold back on her or Tom, and give her a good ribbing… hey Tom, here’s your slave to give you a lift home etc etc. She laughs and gives as good as he gets… maybe you’d like me to tie you up and give you a good whipping, she would say, emphasizing her Teutonic accent, and we’d all laugh, but there was always a glint in her eye that you couldn’t quite figure out.
She is very… provocative, I suppose. She likes to shock, even us, and we are hard to shock. She is also very sensual, very physical, she likes to touch, both guys and the girls. I have seen her with her arm affectionately around Sophie and the sisters, sometimes with a hand gently around the waist and even drifting further south. The girls don’t seem concerned at all; certainly Sophie is not bothered as she too, being French, is very open in her affection for the guys, and her girlfriends.
But amongst them all Gerda is the one that pushes the boundary furthest. I remember playing rugby with the guys one Sunday morning and the girls came to watch. We were getting thrashed, as usual, but it’s the beer after that matters really. While it was a warmish spring day, it began to pour down as soon as we started. I remember seeing Sophie and the sisters huddling under a single umbrella, having no fun at all. Just separated from them was Gerda, dressed in an ankle length black rubber cape with a hood protecting her head. The only parts of her visible were her eyes and forehead above the lower part of the hood which had a strap across her lower face, and her high heeled boots, that also looked to be made of rubber. When we were finished and the girls were soaked (except Gerda who was as dry as a bone, I assumed), Tom went over to her, kissing her under her hood, with his arms through the slits in her cape.
We showered and went to the pub, where Gerda kept the cape on, but lowered her hood. She had on thin black leather gloves (I think leather anyway) but didn’t remove them, drinking from her glass still with her gloves on, her legs crossed and showing off her high tight rubber boots (I knew then they were rubber) and getting lots of attention from the bar crowd. I commented to Tom on how sexy she looked and he chuckled. A few days later he told me in confidence and with a wicked grin, that what we saw was all she was wearing… a rubber cape, long rubber gloves (he said they were latex, not leather) and the thigh (!) high rubber boots… and nothing else.
I looked shocked I suppose and said, what if she got caught or fainted or something, and he laughed, saying that that was part of the fun for her, the thrill of possible discovery in public. Anyway, he said, she nearly did faint, as she had been pleasuring herself under the cape with her rubber covered fingers. Holy crap, I thought.
He later told me they often went out on walks, with Gerda naked or scantiily dressed underneath a cape or mackintosh, and occasionally he would tether her wrists together, so she was truly helpless. When they got home Tom would remove the cape or mac, and untie her and she would be so wet the insides of her thighs would glisten and he would barely touch her before she came. Tom and Gerda were therefore, it could be said, the most adventurous of the group!
Anyway she dotes on Tom and gets on great with the other girls, and with the guys too.
Me? Well I work in advertising, which covers a broad spectrum I know. I write and film commercials. To some that will sound exciting, to some boring, and it’s a bit of both, but I like it and it has paid me very well indeed. You’ve probably seen my commercials on TV, from cars to beer to deodorants, just about everything. I have never gone for the hard sell (except in broad or subtle parody) but always, to date, with some humour. But you still have to get a message across, I have seen so many commercials where they are hilarious, but at the end you have forgotten what they are selling. With mine you don’t forget, but you have a laugh anyway.
While I have mentioned that the four guys are as tight as men can be, the really strange thing about the four girls is that… so are they! They didn’t go to school or university together, two are in fashion, one translates and the fourth is a personal trainer - and I’d like to see a training session conducted by her. But they are as tight as we are, and that is great for when the guys want to do guy things, none of the girls have a problem with that and off they go for a girl’s night out, or whatever.
They are also physically quite similar. Although the facial features and the hair colour are different, they are of similar height and build. They all work out like crazy, Suzi, Mandy and my Sophie all go to the same gym (Gerda has her own training regimen) and they go running together. Now that is a sight to see, all four of them in all their tight lycra glory, running through one of London’s parks. If they ran on the sidewalks there would be traffic chaos!
They are all about 5 feet 10 to 5 feet 11, and built like 400m runners, with narrow hips and long well-muscled legs. Suzi and Mandy are so similar they could be twins, never mind sisters. The difference is mainly in the boobs. Sophie, I can vouch for this, has breasts that would adorn any porn mag, they are not too big but wonderfully firm. I don’t know what holds them up so perky! She often wanders around the house with no bra, and she knows how it affects me, as I often grab her, she puts up a token fight and we end up going at it like rabbits, kitchen, bathroom wherever. The sisters are slightly less well endowed, but certainly not flat, and Gerda is perhaps the largest in that department, and it is she that has the slightly larger hips to match her breasts. But we are the luckiest guys in the world, for whenever we meet them in the pub, or for that matter anywhere public, you sense appreciative eyes drifting over your way.
As I sat thinking, with all the eyes on me, waiting for a decision, I hoped that any one of us would not do anything stupid to muck it all up.
An Interesting Night Out
I suppose this is where the story really gets under way. It seemed to me that the present meeting in the pub when we would finally make a decision was the outcome of a similar meeting probably perhaps two months prior. We had gone for a run and were having a couple and the girls were to join us later.
They arrived a little late, and had certainly been to some bar before for they were very boisterous. I don’t remember how the conversation started but Gerda said something to the effect…
“Oh yes, your rugby, ha ha, big boys playing their tough game, ha ha, I could take you boys on, one on one, have you tied up in no time.” We all laughed, but I could tell that the girls were in quite an aggressive mood, at least verbally. I don’t know why, (the beer?) but I blurted out.
“Well, Gerda darling, you can tie me up and punish me anytime.” This was followed by more laughter, and a bit of goading.
“Any time Al, any time.” Gerda replied, a wide smile on her scarlet lips and a twinkle in her eye.
“No no, ma cherie” interjected Sophie, “leave that to me, when we get home, I’ll get Al into some serious bondage, gag him perhaps with my panties, oui? Because I don’t want him squealing and then teach him a few lessons only the French know.” Then she looked at me very knowingly and smiled mischievously.
“Although perhaps… I don’t know… maybe it would be more fun the other way round.” And the conversation then seemed to take off; thank goodness we were in a back room of the old pub with it all to ourselves. Somewhat emboldened, I asked.
“Oh yes, any time my lover. Now erm… anybody else like a bit of bondage?” There was silence for a few seconds and I thought I had truly thrown water on the smoldering fire, but I saw Suzi, dear effervescent Suzi, glance across at the ever quiet James and giggle.
“Oh, I don’t believe, it, no way, dear innocent James.” A smile rose on James’s innocent mush, as he said as dryly as only he could.
“Well… I think it is very important not to dismiss anything out of hand unless you have tried it at least once, right Suzi darling?” Suzi stared at him, and then howled.
“Once? Yeah, like being frogtied once a week and thoroughly rogered!” James dropped his head to his hand and shook it, but I could see him chuckling. The rest of us roared with approval.
“What is this frogtied?” Sophie asked innocently. And Suzi in a stage whisper said. “I’ll explain later Sophie, my love. Or maybe I’ll give you a demonstration, you’ll love it.” Sophie, being French, and therefore never easily shocked in the ways of l’amour, nodded and mouthed silently okay.
“Well if it is all show and tell,” said Mandy, glancing across at Suzi, “sorry dear sister, but you are not the only one in the family who’s been stretched out arm and leg to all the bedposts, thinking of England, with your husband’s cock in your mouth!” Amid the general cheering Pete interrupted quickly.
“Mandy, really… ” And Mandy smiled.
“Yes… really, everyone.” And she thought a second. “The funny thing is, and dear Pete, don’t take this the wrong way, please don’t but sometimes when I’m blindfolded and you are having your way with me, and believe me Pete, you are incredible, I fantasize that someone else is doing me.” Pete seemed to take it in spirit.
“Oh, so that’s why you sometimes shout out Tom or Al is it?” And Mandy smiled serenely and looked at not just Tom and I, but James as well.
“Well if I don’t have your cock in my mouth… and it’s a lovely cock, Pete, and I do like sucking it but yes, it does cross my mind, sometimes, doing it with you guys.”
You could have heard a pin drop. I thought I would try to defuse the situation… if it needed defusing.
“Wow, well I for one… am very flattered Mandy.” I was going to carry on but Gerda then said very quietly.
“Of course I fantasize being with you Al, and you James and Pete… .and sometimes all at the same time.” As I said, Gerda always liked to shock. But she didn’t stop there.
“I also think about you… dear sisters and my favourite French friend.” And it went really quiet, and Gerda resumed.
“Oh come on everyone, be honest please, we can all make jokes, but we are the best of friends, no matter what we may say, we are honest with each other, yes? Me? I never stop fantasizing; Tom knows this don’t you, my dearest? I dream about being stretched out on a bed in a wide X, my feet raised up… .” she looked around at us, knowing she had our full attention, “and being taken in all my… available orifices.” Oh jesus! While we all took a breath, she continued. “And girls, what pleasure I could give you all, lapping at your pools of desire.” She smiles evilly, and we were all silent for a moment, glancing across at each other.
“I’m sorry my friends, if I have spoken out of…”
“Non, non, ma cherie.” Sophie whispered, putting her arm around Gerda. “We are perhaps just taking alI this in.” And we all nodded. Sophie continued.
“We all have fantasies, of course we do, sometimes we get closer to living them out… sometimes not.” She looked down, still with her arm around Gerda, who took her hand in hers and gently kissed it, and Sophie giggled.
“I too have a fantasy, it is so silly I don’t know where it came from. Well, I am French, yes? So I have a fantasy of being dressed as a French maid, yes? I am in this big house and dressed in the, you know, outfit – the high heels, the stockings and garters from the tight corset, the frilly panties just covered by the black flared dress with the white frills. And there are variations, sometimes it is the master of the house, he ties me to his bed and takes me, sometimes in my rear… and sometimes it is the chauffer, and he wants me to kneel and suck him… it is all very strange, yes?”
The silence is broken by Tom.
“Well I don’t think it’s strange at all, I think it’s brilliant, and Sophie, my love, I will happily play the master or the chauffer.” And everyone laughed, as I punched Tom on the arm. But now it was my turn.
“Sorry Tom, those positions are filled. Sophie darling, why didn’t you mention that? I figured we were pretty experimental. All right Monday we’re off to Soho and get you a nice maid’s uniform.” There was general laughter.
“Al, my love, I have never had, and I will never have any complaints with you as my lover. But sometimes even we French women can be a bit embarrassed, n’est pas? Anyway, I was going to mention it one day, I am always putting it off, but I have already seen one.” She giggled and then waited a few seconds before continuing.
“And it is made of caoutchouc, how do you say… rubber, latex. It is so beautiful - smooth and shiny, black with white frills, and they have latex stockings and shoulder gloves too, and frilly panties. So when I don’t clean the house right, you will have to take me over your knee, oui?”
And as I nodded in agreement I noticed that I was becoming hard during this little tale, my breath was coming in short bursts. The idea of Sophie, who is certainly no innocent, dressed in tight latex, over my knee, me pulling down her panties to spank her perfectly formed globes.
I was aware of fetishism and people who got turned on by latex clothing. There were lots of clubs in London where you could see the odd girl in rubber. That was fine by me, each to their own I say, but I didn’t look upon myself as a fetishist, however that scenario certainly did tweak my interest.
I looked across at Gerda, who took Sophie’s head in her hands and kissed her forehead, then she looked across at Tom and nodded. Something seemed to pass between them that no one else noticed, but I didn’t give it much thought.
But the conversation didn’t end there, in fact it had only warmed up.
“Well we all have fantasies, don’t we,” began Suzi, “mine is about being abducted by white slave traders…”
“Oh, give me a break.” Her sister, Mandy laughed.
“No, really, I’m at home in bed, and suddenly I am grabbed, tied up into a tight ball, gagged, stuffed in a holdall bag and taken to some remote location. There I am ravaged by all these masked guys. I am actually looked after quite well as they know I will get a good price on the market. The weird thing about this scenario is that it is you guys that have kidnapped me. It’s you that are always in the dream, odd yes? So I guess I’m not into forced sex… unless it is with someone I know?”
“Sounds like you and Mandy have similar fantasies, you must have swapped them growing up.” I asked. And Mandy gave it some thought.
“Well I suppose we did. We shared a room together when we were young and we would lie in bed telling each other stories. I remember reading ‘The Man in the Iron Mask’ and having this really weird dream that I was the good prince locked in the mask - except I was a beautiful princess of course and the mask was leather, not horrible metal. Anyway, I got my revenge on my horrible sister when I escaped and forced her into the mask, then stuffed her in the dungeon, and lived happily ever after… .”
“Jeez sister, thanks a lot, it’s a wonder I survived my childhood with you sleeping next to me.” This was said by Suz, giggling, the sisters were tight.
“We did fine, didn’t we Suzi, we used to get a couple of the young boys in the neighbourhood to play cowboys and Indians, and get them to tie us up, it was all innocent fun back then.”
“Yeah, I’ll bet.” Pete chuckled.
“Doesn’t every woman have some sort of kidnap fantasy, at some time?” This was Sophie again, to my surprise. “I have one where I have been drugged and abducted to a top class bordello, where they dress me up in various sexy costumes and I have to… perform with the clients. Of course it is all very French and civilized and the men are very considerate with their attentions.” Christ, I thought, do I really know this woman? I have to say that idea kind of appealed to me though.
“Okay my sweet, we’ll find a nice place for you and set you up with some kinky costumes and then we can all come and shag you rigid.” I said again trying to keep the mood light. Keeping in the mood Sophie, grinned.
“Sounds fine with me, but only you four can be my clients, okay? I think I can handle you, pas de problem.” And she crossed her legs and coolly took a sip of her drink.
“Well, I don’t know about anyone else, but I need another drink, a big one.” Said Mandy.
“That’s a great idea but before that, I need a cold shower.” Replied James, and we all agreed. We had more drinks and laughs, but the subject of sexual fantasies did not return that night. I think everyone was a little bit surprised the route the conversation had taken.
For the next few days I couldn’t get that night out of my mind. It occurred to me that it was the girls who had been much more forthcoming regarding their inner feelings, Gerda inevitably leading the way, hotly followed, to my surprise, by Sophie, with Mandy and Suzi following up the rear. Other than owning up to the bondage sessions with their girlfriends we men had kept our cards pretty close to our chests. I had another think about this and broached the subject the next time the guys met at the pub. The conversation then took off again. Tom began.
“Of course I would love to do the horizontal with Sophie, Al, she’s gorgeous, and I’m a male, nuff said? And then she starts talking about latex, and the maid’s uniform and frilly panties. Jeez. But you’re my mate, so we don’t go there, right?” I noticed the others all nodding in unison. I replied.
“Well, of course, same with me Tom. Gerda is a real mystery to me, and I have to say, very alluring, but she’s with you, so there you are.” But Tom gave me “that” look.
“But you fancy her, right?”
“Well yeah, of course – I’ve got blood in my veins, haven’t I? Although she would probably have me for breakfast, and have enough of an appetite left for the rest of us.”
“True, true, you wouldn’t believe what she can come up with.” Said Tom, smugly. Then Pete spoke.
“It’s funny, but did you notice the consistent thread in their fantasies? They all seemed to be in the abduction thing – you know, pirates, white slave traders, bordello operators, don’t know where they get it from but it seems pretty consistent. Still waters really do run deep. Gentlemen, we have the good fortune to be attached to four ladies with very fertile and wicked imaginations.” We all nodded and James continued on the same theme.
“Yes, when Sophie started on about abduction and bordello, my imagination started to take off. And Gerda, well there isn’t a man on the planet that wouldn’t mind a go at her, probably have to tie her down though, she’s a handful… no offence Tom.”
“None taken, old mate. Your observations are, as always, bang on.” Tom replied blithely.
“Well if we are going on record, and I will add a codicil here, Mandy is just about enough I can handle, but I would gladly bed any and all of our dear girlfriends.” Pete said, and to the side of me I could see James nodding silently.
“Well, that’s sorted then, we all love our dear ladies, but given the right circumstances we would gleefully roger anyone else’s missus. And the really bizarre thing is, from what I heard the other night, the girls may have the same sentiments!”
Tom brought it together nicely, I thought, and we all agreed.
“Thanks for summing it up Tom.” And we resumed our drinking, with our own thoughts. We moved on to other topics, but again I glanced at Tom, he looked up, caught my eye and raised his eyebrows, as if to say interesting conversation, that. And I’m sure we all thought the same.
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