Mary-Jo's nightmare began when she opened the door of her new apartment to a willowy redhead in spike-heeled boots bearing a bottle of Veuve Clicquot in a plastic cooler. Behind the attractive bottle carrier loomed a broad-shouldered man who smiled at the newly wed in a way that made her feel naked.
"Hi," said the redhead as she bustled through the doorway causing Mary-Jo to step backwards into the small hallway. The blonde haired bride was shorter than her visitor but rounder in the bosom and bottom, a fact accentuated by the tight stretch denim skirt and the softly clinging cashmere cardigan Mary-Jo wore.
"I'm Betty Butterbun from across the way," said the redhead briskly. She looked Mary-Jo up and down and smiled her appreciation. "My, aren't you the pretty one. I wish I could get away with not wearing a bra. You must be closer to eighteen than twenty, right? Back from honeymoon a whole week. Guessed you'd be ready to meet your neighbors. Brought you some bubbly. Hope you've got glasses unpacked."
"Um," managed Mary-Jo before Betty continued.
"This is Boris, my better half," she said as Mary-Jo retreated a step or two. "Boris has some goodies for you too. A surprise for later."
Boris stepped through the doorway and quietly closed the door behind him. He moved with the effortless grace of an athlete. He was dressed like a sports coach in a dark blue track suit and Nike running shoes. Boris patted the fat sports bag he carried. "Surprise," he echoed. "For later." He had a deep voice and soft, fleshy, lips parted in a shark-like grin. His short, curly, black hair was cut very close to his skull.
"Won't... won't you come in to the sitting room," said Mary-Jo. She was annoyed at the pushiness displayed by the newcomers but did not want to appear rude and ungrateful to the couple. "I'm Mary-Jo Smith. I'll see if I can find the champagne flutes."
Mary-Jo raised her voice and called, "Elmer, do come and meet the Butteredbuns, our new neighbors. They've brought some French champagne." She turned to the visitors. "My husband is fixing the shower door in the en suite bathroom. He'll be here in a moment. Won't you sit down?"
"It's 'Butterbuns', darling." said Betty. She sat in one of the three new, soft, red-leather settees grouped around a solid marble-topped coffee table in the center of the elegant sitting room. The hem of Betty's little black dress rode up her black-stockinged legs and inched higher as she crossed one spike-booted calf over the opposite knee. "We're known as the 'B's. Betty and Boris. Mr B and Mrs B." She giggled.
"Buttered buns are something quite different," said Boris with a meaningful leer. "As you probably know." He sat next to his wife. Mary-Jo muttered an apology but missed the significance of his remark.
"Now, now, Boris. She's just a young bride and probably hasn't the first idea of what you're talking about," said Betty. "No doubt you'll be able to explain later."
Betty looked around the room and enthusiastically praised all that caught her attention. The wall-paper, the drapes, the feature wall, the floor to ceiling bookcase, the comfort afforded by the soft leather settees, the thick pile rug in front of the faux fireplace. Mary-Jo was both amused and annoyed at Betty's stream of cheerful chatter and responded with smiles and nods.
"Do get the glasses, dear. I'll open the bubbly," Betty said eventually.
Betty removed the foil from the top of the champagne bottle as Elmer came into the room and Mary-Jo left to find the wine glasses. Boris stood and introduced himself and his wife. He was shorter than Elmer, who stood six foot tall in his paint stained loafers, but the older man was hard muscled where Elmer was flabby.
"Fixed the shower, have you?" asked Boris.
"Yes," said Elmer. "Just the screen door needed adjusting. Mary-Jo said you were neighbors?" He sat down opposite Betty, realized he could see the whites of her thighs, blushed and looked away.
"From across the way," said Betty vaguely. She untwisted the wire cage that held the cork in place with ease born of practice. "These are good apartments. You were lucky to get this one. Wasn't on the market for more than a week or two." She re-crossed her long slender legs exposing more thigh. Her stockings rustled quietly calling attention to her action. Betty looked up to see Elmer staring at her legs and grinned.
"They're double glazed and sound proof, you know," said Elmer. "Of course you do."
"You like looking up women's skirts do you Elmer?" said Boris grinning.
"Er..." began Elmer. He was flustered and did not know how to take Boris's remark.
"Tut, tut, Boris. Don't embarrass the young man. I'm flattered Elmer finds my legs attractive. You do, don't you Elmer?"
"I, er, I... ," mumbled Elmer.
"Of course he does, Mrs B. Or maybe it's the fuck-me boots you're wearing that's caught his eye. Eh, Elmer?"said Boris.
"Um, ah... Ah, here's Mary-Jo with the glasses." Elmer got to his feet as Betty eased the cork out of the bottle with a satisfying 'pop'. Betty stood up and, helped by the lady of the house, poured the champagne. All four were standing around the coffee table as Betty proposed a toast.
"To Mary-Jo and Elmer Smith. Our new neighbors." They all drank.
"And soon-to-be... fuck-buddies," added Boris.
Betty smiled sweetly, nodded and sipped her wine. Mary-Jo looked startled and Elmer choked on his second swallow.
"Now look here..." he spluttered, setting his champagne flute on the table.
"What did you say?" queried the younger woman.
"Sit down and shut up. Both of you," growled Boris. Elmer didn't move. Mary-Jo, shocked at being spoken to like a dog in her own home, sat.
Boris touched the right arm of his track suit top and, as if by magic, a polished wooden truncheon slid into his hand. Without hesitation he tapped the side of Elmer's head. The young man staggered and fell to his knees in front of Boris. The older man unzipped his sports bag and took out a pair of old-fashioned metal handcuffs. He stripped off Elmer's t-shirt and fastened the young man's hands behind his back. Without a pause Boris lifted Elmer on to the settee and sat him next to Mary-Jo.
"Do drink your wine, darling," cooed Betty to the startled housewife. "It's too good to waste. It will give you Dutch courage. And you're going to need all the courage you can muster before the evening's out, dear."
Mary-Jo put an arm around Elmer' shoulder and tried to comfort him. He was conscious but groggy. She glared angrily at Boris and Betty.
"What do you mean by this behavior?" she said indignantly. "Why did you assault my husband? What's going on?"
"Shall I tell them?"giggled Betty excitedly. Boris nodded.
"Yeah. Let them know what's in store for them. They won't have read the story."
"Story? What story? Why are you doing this?" shrilled Mary-Jo.
"Because we can, darling," said Betty. "But before I begin let's get more comfortable. Let's swap places. Mary-Jo come and sit next to Boris. I'll look after your poor bruised husband."
Mary-Jo started to protest but Betty picked up the truncheon Boris had placed on the coffee table and waved it suggestively at the younger woman. Mary-Jo reluctantly changed places with her so-called new neighbor without further ado. Boris put his left arm around Mary-Jo's narrow waist and pulled her close to his side. She tried to push away from his grasp but he held her tight. Boris grinned at her puny efforts to escape his embrace. He took her right hand in his and placed it on the bulge in the soft material of his track suit where his erection had started to grow. Mary-Jo felt Boris' penis stir. She thought of snakes. She hated snakes.
"It began," said Betty conversationally, "a year ago. Boris and I were looking for something to spice up our love-life. We always enjoyed sex but the trouble was we had begun to realize we are both dominant and bisexual by nature. It became clear that we couldn't both be on top and happy, as it were. Then we read this story by Finc in www.storiesonline.net —'Meet the Buggermans'— it's called."
"A couple, like you two, newly moved into a house are greeted by a friendly neighborly pair, Mr and Mrs Buggerman. The Buggermans present the couple with a bottle of wine and a box of chocolates. The gifts are drugged and render the man incapable of movement, but with a Viagra induced erection, and make the woman as floppy as a rag doll. The drugged couple are humiliated and sexually abused by both the Buggermans in a number of ways. The climax comes when the young husband is sodomized by Mr B while his bride is made to fellate him while she too is being buggered by a dildo-wearing Mrs B. What do you think of that?"
Mary-Jo's frightened expression of disgust showed she thought the story appalling. Elmer, still dazed, merely looked puzzled.
"Of course," said Betty, "It was only a story but it did suggest an MO that would satisfy our, possibly unique, requirements for sexual satisfaction."
Betty paused and took a sip of wine. She offered the glass to Elmer. He turned his head away.
"Don't worry. This isn't drugged. We did try to do it that way once but the result was not good. The woman slithered all over the place like a dead fish and her husband had a button dick no amount of Viagra could help. No, we don't use incapacitating drugs any more. Just persuasion and the occasional aphrodisiac."
.... There is more of this story ...