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."

"You... you've done this before?" whispered Mary-Jo. She could feel Boris' cock grow beneath her hand. "You've brought gifts to 'neighbors' then... then..."

"Oh yes, darling. Often. We've played games with them, raped and humiliated them to our heart's content. Fucked them and buggered them. Made them do interesting, perverse, things to each other. It's been quite a blast."

Betty reached between Elmer's trousered legs and began to unzip his fly. Elmer tried to get up from the soft settee but Betty grabbed a handful of hair at the back of his sore head and had no difficulty in hauling him back. He was still groggy. She finished unzipping the fly but had a problem extracting his cock.

"Y-fronts," said Betty. She shook her head and tugged at the offending underwear until she could grasp the stalk of Elmer shrunken member

"But the police..." said Mary-Jo desperately.

"Have never been informed. Don't know why. Perhaps it's akin to the Stockholm Syndrome. After a session with the 'B's the young couples must feel something like affection towards us."

"Affection," snorted Mary-Jo.

Betty shrugged. "We haven't robbed them of any property and they might feel embarrassed at having to relate what they have been up to. Particularly if one or both have enjoyed aspects of the experience"

"Enjoyed? Being forced..."

"You'd be surprised. Remember the young couple in Newtown, Boris?"

Boris grunted.

"She'd never had an orgasm until Boris took her up the ass while her wimp of a husband tongued her cum-filled cunt."

Mary-Jo flinched at Betty's crude language. Betty grinned at the younger woman.

"Meanwhile I gave him reason to carry on eating pussy by treating him to a ruthless buggering with my number-one strap-on. She thanked us when we left and made me an offer for the dildo."

Betty gave up trying to extract Elmer's sex through the opening in his pants. She undid his narrow leather belt and tossed it onto the settee.

"Stand up, there's a good boy," she said and assisted the young husband to struggle to his feet.

While Elmer swayed unsteadily, Betty swiftly pulled his work pants and Y-fronts down below his knees then pushed him back onto the settee. She pounced on Elmer's exposed genitals like a kitten on a ball of wool. One sharp nailed hand grasped the shaft of his flaccid member while the other cosseted his well filled scrotum. Betty nibbled at the foreskin-shrouded head of his shrunken cock before Elmer started to struggle and squirm. Mary-Jo, unable to shake off Boris' grip, stared in disbelief.

"Do keep still, darling," said Betty as she tightened her grip on Elmer's ball-bag. "Or there's a chance I'll rip your nuts off." She squeezed suddenly. Her sharp red-painted nails pierced the skin.Elmer screamed in fear and pain. "Just relax," she said as she eased her spiteful hold. She looked up to see Mary-Jo had tears in her eyes.

"Don't worry, young lady. He's in good hands. I think he may like it rough. Look. His cock is beginning to swell already. But not as much as Mr B's."

Mary-Jo looked down at where her hand lay. Boris had indeed grown while his "better half" had chatted about the Buggermans and amused herself with the concussed Elmer.

Boris held on to Mary-Jo's wrist and stood up. He quickly kicked off his Nikes and stepped out of his track suit pants and boxer shorts. Mary Jo was alarmed to note that Mr B's erection was much bigger than Elmer's (or either of the other two she had seen in her sheltered lifetime). She stared at the plum shaped head that glistened with natural lubricant and shuddered at the thought of being penetrated by Boris' long, thick, heavily veined, shaft.

"I think Mr B's a bigger man than you, Elmer, but size isn't everything," said Betty working skillfully at exciting her prisoner's libido.

"Please, don't do this," Elmer moaned.

Mary-Jo wriggled along the seat of the settee, hoping to get away, as Boris leant over her. Boris grabbed at her skirt and caught the waist band. He pulled the frightened young woman towards him. She slid on the leather seat as she struggled to escape. She felt the skirt fastener break. Mary Jo fell back onto the settee as Boris dragged the stretch denim garment down her long stockinged legs and tossed it onto the coffee table.

"Oh, what lovely little panties," enthused Betty. "See how snugly they fit around her mount of Venus." Elmer tried to get to his feet to assist his threatened bride, but Betty hauled him back and continued to massage and suck his soft, but growing, erection. "I don't wear any myself," she confided in the dazed young husband. "As you'll find when I mount you."

Boris reached for the top button of Mary-Jo's cardigan. She started to protest.

"No. Please don't do this," she cried, echoing her husband's plea.

Boris ripped the fine woolen top open. Buttons popped.

"No," she wailed.

"Let's see your tits, little lady," smiled Boris. Under the cardigan Mary-Jo was wearing a thin cotton singlet. Boris took the hem of the singlet in both hands and pulled it apart. Mary-Jo's ample breasts bounced as she tried to get away. Boris stood over her and peeled off his tracksuit top and singlet. He was naked now, apart from his socks. He caught Mary Jo as she scrambled off the settee, wrapped her in his strong arms and kissed her firmly on the lips.

Mary-Jo struggled to evade Boris' embrace. She could feel his broad, bare, chest crushing her naked breasts and was aware of his large, stiff, cock throbbing where it pressed against her belly. His tongue invaded her mouth. She felt sick. She trembled and wept.

"See how your little lady loves Mr B?" said Betty to the "little lady's" helpless husband. Elmer could indeed see his wife standing the other side of their marble-topped coffee table, her body pressed closely to the muscular nakedness of Mr B. She was shaking.

"She's quivering with delight. I want you to kiss me like that. Now, Elmer. Or else..."

He felt Betty's sharp nails dig into the skin of his scrotum and the pressure begin to build around his balls as she began to squeeze. He closed his eyes and kissed his insistent tormentor. His tongue sought hers in an unholy French kiss. Her hand released his testicles and slid up to massaged his shaft. Elmer felt his cock growing despite fear and pain. Surely, he thought, his wife couldn't be enjoying the attentions of the well-hung, athletic, Mr B. The seed of doubt had been planted however.

Betty's hand pumped Elmer's stiffening cock. She slipped the foreskin up and down with her strong action and exposed the purple tinged head of his penis with every downstroke.

"That's better, lover," cooed the redhead coming up for breath. "Another minute or two and you'll be fuckable." She dropped her head so she could lick the tip of his cock and every few strokes take the head into her mouth. Elmer found he was losing control and struggled against a growing feeling that he was going to come. He closed his eyes and tried to concentrate on something—anything—to distract his mind from the rising imperative.

Boris heard the comment and eased his embrace of Mary-Jo.

"Take your panties off, girlie. It's fuck time."

Mary-Jo made no move to comply with Mr B's order. He sighed, reached for the narrow waist-band and effortlessly tore the flimsy undies off his trembling victim.

"Please," she began, as she tried to cover her closely cropped blonde bush with one hand and her naked breasts with the other. "Please don't..."

Boris spun Mary-Jo around until she was facing Elmer and Mrs B. The young woman was amazed to see how stiff her husband had grown under the tutelage of the redheaded interloper. She was disgusted to see Elmer close his eyes in what looked like ecstacy as Mrs B sucked with gusto the swollen tip of his rampant cock.

"Oh you look good enough to eat, sweetie. What a sweet, tight, little pussy. No pink at all. Like a little girl. Look at her Elmer. Wouldn't you like to fuck your wife?" Said Betty as she rubbed Elmer's fully engorged cock.

Elmer looked at his tattered bride. She still wore her grip-top stockings and heeled red pumps but her cardigan and torn singlet hung loosely off her shoulders doing nothing to conceal her full round breasts with their dull red nipples like over-ripe cherries. She looked angry and frightened.

He nodded.

Horrified at what she saw as Elmer's cowardly compliance with the perverse woman's suggestion, Mary-Jo said, "He would not! Not like this."

"I'm sure he would, sweetie, but Elmer will have to wait until we've gone. You see, I'm going to fuck him and you are going to help me really get a kick out of it by licking his balls and my clit as I have my wicked way with your husband. Kneel down in front of me and Elmer now," said Betty.

"No," said Mary-Jo, bursting into fresh floods of tears. "I won't."

She heard a crack and felt a pain across her buttocks. Mary Jo turned her head to see Boris raise Elmer's belt above his shoulder. The next pang was again accompanied by the crack of a fiercely wielded leather belt. Mary-Jo tried to run but Boris gripped her neck in his left hand. He used his right to ply the belt again before forcing the sobbing woman to her knees.

"Are you going to stay down there, little lady, and do as you are told, or am I going to beat you some more?" Boris asked.

"Don't beat me," Mary-Jo sobbed.

"Then move forward so you can do what Mrs B wants," he said.

Mary-Jo shuffled forward on her knees until her chin was resting on the leather seat of the settee only an inch or so from her husband's groin. Through her tears she could see Mrs B's dexterous fingers manipulating Elmer's stiff cock. The inside of his thighs brushed her shoulders. Elmer's lower legs were still encumbered with his work pants and Y-fronts. Mary-Jo put her hands on the floor and waited fearfully for the next order.

"That's better, sweetie," said Mrs B. The redhead knelt astride her victim's upper thighs and faced his wife. Betty's spike-heeled boots gouged the new, soft, leather. She rolled the hem of her little black dress higher than her hips and positioned herself above Elmer's erect cock. From where she crouched Mary Jo had a close-up of Mrs B's cleanly shaved, smooth, cunt as she slowly lowered herself onto Elmer's throbbing cock.

"Lick his balls, sweetie," sighed Mrs B as she slowly impaled herself on the young householder's erection then eased herself back up. "Then run your tongue up the underside of his cock and diddle my clit. Do it before Boris uses the belt again!"

Mary-Jo hastened to obey. She couldn't see very much. The hem of Betty's dress dropped down and covered the young woman's head but she struggled to carry out her instructions and heard Betty call out that what she was doing was..."Very nice, dear."

Boris waited until Betty had established a rhythm and the young couple were doing as she wanted before he knelt behind Mary-Jo, and rubbed his drooling cock between her cunt lips and the cleft between her buttocks.