The vision in bubble gum pink shorts and matching sparkly T-shirt disappeared through a door marked "Sluts." I couldn't see the gentlemen's washroom and wondered what the sign on that door read. For a sex-themed restaurant and club, it was certainly to-the-point. Meanwhile, my spouse had procured a large cloth bag labeled "TOYS" and was rummaging feverishly. The buxom brown brace began to giggle as Harry stood up, brandishing a large strap-on dildo in one hand and a set of handcuffs in the other. Things were looking up.
"Ladies and gentlemen, I give you Bambi and Botti Boobsy, the dynamic, nay, pneumatic, duo who have single-handedly reinvented the humble party game as we know it. What shall it be, girls? Postman's Knockers? Hunt the Fondle?"
The girls conferred briefly and I took in their outfits. They both wore bottom-skimming skintight mini-dresses with lace-up bodices. Bambi's dress was metallic blue, Botti's a similarly shiny bright pink. Six-inch stiletto pumps completed the look, although both girls were already anything but short in stature. In their heels, they stood as tall as Harry and he is well over six feet. Idly, I wondered how Botti got her name and how long it would take their monumental breasts to escape from the straining lacing of their tightly stretched bodices. Finally, Bambi whispered in Harry's ear and he grinned and patted her bottom.
"An excellent choice, my dear. OK, pardners, it looks as if we are going to have a spot of Hide amp; Seek before we partake of Henryk's delicious buffet lunch. Who's going to be It?"
"We should draw straws, Harry, sweetie. That's only fair. Oh, I do hope it's me!"
Mrs. Goldfinkel had re-emerged from the ladies" powder room. She rushed over to the partially laid buffet table and swiftly plucked a large handful of brightly colored plastic straws from the drinks section. Executing a rapid head count, she carefully selected the required number of straws and slipped them into an empty beer jug.
"Now then! Everyone closes their eyes when they take a straw from the jug, then stirs up the pot for the next person. Most of the straws are pink but there's one blue one in there. The person who takes the blue straw is It. Oh! Oh! I can barely stand the excitement!"
Obediently, we formed a straggling ring and passed the jug. It wasn't long before one of the Texans, a rather overweight chap named Chad, drew the blue straw and the game began. Bambi Boobsy found a sequined blindfold and a set of Mickey Mouse headphones in the toy bag and Chad was divested of two of his senses. I turned to Clara, who had slipped a friendly arm about my waist.
"This looks more like Blind Man's Buff than Hide amp; Seek."
My Latin lover smiled knowingly.
"Watch!"
Botti Boobsy added a pair of large furry mittens to Chad's regalia. They looked as if they'd been made up from an old fake-fur coat. A mental image was beginning to emerge and I recalled some of the more interesting "party games" we used to play at the Pink Pussy Lounge.
Suddenly the lights went out and we were plunged into a surprisingly dense darkness. Although it was daytime and dazzlingly bright outside, the windows were completely obliterated by heavy blinds. Harry's voice emanated from somewhere behind me.
"Righty-ho playmates, time to scatter and find yourself a nook or cranny. Chad will stay put and loudly count up to sixty before commencing the hunt. The kitchen's out of bounds as the cook is Greek and somewhat temperamental. Off you go!"
There was a general scuffling, liberally punctuated with inebriated Texan mumbling and the excitable high-pitched squeals of the Black Widow. A smooth, cool hand grabbed mine and pulled me in one direction. I bumped into several well-padded torsos as dark figures stumbled hither and thither in the gloom. The clutching hand artfully maneuvered me through a heavy door and down a pitch-black staircase. It seemed to be Clara but I wasn't certain. Her hands had given out a lot more heat. Whoever it was seemed to be female at any rate. Suddenly, we reached another door and my shadowy captor pushed it open and pushed me inside. This room was dimly lit by a lurid red lamp, and I immediately recognized it as the brothel's dungeon. The couple on the low, darkly draped bed were familiar too. I gasped as Frippery Boner-Drippit glared up at me from her satin-sheeted vantage point. She was dressed in a black latex jumpsuit and wielded a rather vicious looking riding crop. Will lay prone on the bed, trussed up like the proverbial Thanksgiving turkey, a scarlet ball gag filling his mouth like an apple in the mouth of a roasted pig. He wore a short, floaty chiffon baby doll nightdress with matching panties. The cool hand thrust me further into the room and I turned to see Botti Boobsy smiling down at me.
"Maitre Neptoon want you here. He say this where you belong."
I looked from Botti to the Boners then back to Botti. Frippery remained silent, a rather unpleasant glint in her eye. Will writhed and grunted on the slippery sheets. I prepared myself for a hasty retreat but the big Boobsy blocked the door.
"Look, Botti – why do you call yourself Botti, by the way?"
"Is short for Botticelli."
"Oh, of course, silly me. Look, Miss Botticelli, normally I live for a good flogging but, as you can see, the rack's already taken and…"
A pair of enormous brown breasts descended upon my face and the cool, now surprisingly strong hands grasped my bottom. What was more, a long, thick phallus protruded from beneath the hem of the skintight mini-dress. With a surge of excitement, I realized that Botti Boobsy was wearing a large strap-on dildo.
"Ah got everyting you ever dreamed of, honey!"
She might have had a point there and I made an impromptu decision to let her impress it upon me. Finally, Frippery erupted, a lavish mushroom cloud of spittle liberally spritzing the little basement room.
"I booked thith dungeon for the day! Take that, that whore away! I'm not sharing thith spathe."
Botti Boobsy released me and, rather menacingly, drew herself up to her full stiletto-augmented height. Flexing a pair of well-defined biceps she strode over to the Boners and picked up one in each hand, as effortlessly as if they were a pair of soft toys. I helpfully opened the dungeon door and she promptly threw them out into the dark of the stairway.
"Now, baby, you gonna give me your sweet little ass."
My excitement melted and my stomach turned over. I realized why they called that Boobsy Botti.
Chad was a-whoopin' and a-hollerin' as he stampeded blindly round the room. He may have born and raised in Ditchwater, Texas, but he was doing the Lone Star state proud.
"Ooh, who's that! Naughty boy!"
Gigi Goldfinkel's shriek overlaid the merriment at regular intervals. I had a feeling she was doing some Seeking of her own, toy boys or no toy boys. I also had a feeling the toy boys might have been more interested in the bouncers than the pink beclad yelping Mrs. G. Henryk caters for all tastes.
I had taken the precaution of establishing my bearings before the lights went out. There were a few parties in the room I would not have minded being caught by, but Chad was not one of them. I had done my duty in setting up the entertainment. It was time to head for the bar and a preview of the buffet.
"Viens ici!"
A hand grabbed mine and I felt myself dragged with considerable force across the floor, considering the voice spouting Dominican patois was undoubtedly female. Plan A, the bar and early buffet raid, went by the board. Harry Neptune is nothing if not flexible. And curious.
I heard a door close behind us then nearly stumbled as we descended a short flight of stairs. I stumbled again at the bottom of the stairs over what appeared to be two inarticulately moaning bodies, than a door opened and I emerged into dim red light. The door slammed behind me.
Plan B was revealed. My still-new bride was tied by the wrists to the brass head of a large and luxurious looking bed. She was naked from the waist down and her legs were wrapped around Botti Boobsy. Botti was also naked from the waist down, on account of her tight pink dress had ridden up over her hips. A black leather strap was visible round her waist. Her hips were pounding up and down and she made a grunt like an East European tennis player with each frenzied thrust.