What Happens In Dallas…

Missy, Sissy, Lizzie, Millie, Susie, Betty, and Debbie, known back in high school as the “Seven Blonde Babes”, still did everything together. Though their high school days were far behind them—most had children and all but Lizzie were married—they were still best friends, and no matter how hectic their lives, still got together the last Friday of the month for a girl’s night out.

They met up at Lizzie’s after work, did each other’s makeup and hair, put on their party clothes, then piled into Lizzie’s Suburban. From there it was about a thirty-minute drive to Dallas, where they hit the bars and drank and danced into the wee hours of the morning. Sometimes they did more than drink and dance, sometimes the night’s entertainment contained a man or two. Or more. But they always had to be the right sort of men, the alphas who were into rough sex, spankings and such. All the Seven Blonde Babes were into kink, and none of the six who were married ever got enough from their husbands. And since they always spent the night at Lizzie’s following their night out, no one was expecting them home. They could let go.

It was all just innocent fun, and what happened in Dallas stayed in Dallas.

So, when two guys came on to them, two good-looking macho guys dressed in expensive suits, then invited them to take the party to Mitch’s (the taller of the two) house, the Seven Blonde Babes conferred and all agreed that it sounded like fun. Two guys, seven girls…the possible combinations were endless. And who knew, they might get tied up and face-fucked, or at the very least get a good spanking out of it, especially if they asked nicely and said pretty-please.

With Missy, the soberest of the girls—which wasn’t saying much—piloting the Suburban, the Seven Blonde Babes followed the Tesla through the Dallas streets and out into the suburbs. All ooh and aahed when they drove through the gates of a mansion.

Missy pulled the Suburban into the cavernous garage beside the Tesla, and the Seven Blonde Babes poured out, giggling like nervous teenagers.

Sandwiched between Mitch and the other guy—Missy thought his name might be Gary—the Seven Blonde Babes staggered in the back door into a large bright kitchen, all white and gleaming stainless steel.

“This way, ladies,” Mitch said, turning into a long hallway.

More giggling as the Seven Blonde Babes weaved down the passage, bumping into each other and the walls.

The hallway ended, funneling them into a cozy room done in reds and golds. Three overstuffed, oxblood leather couches were arranged in a C-pattern in front of a cold fireplace; and it was there the two men guided the Seven Blonde Babes.

Drinks were made and passed out. But in short time, the drinks were forgotten as lips met lips, hands crept under skirts, and articles of feminine apparel began to litter the carpet.

As someone’s tongue was exploring Missy’s pussy, she was vaguely aware that there were now two more men on the sofas with her and her friends. “The more the merrier…” she mumbled.

The mouth abandoned her pussy. “What?”

“Mmmmmm….” She pushed the head back between her thighs.

She was on the brink of orgasm, when again the mouth left her pussy. A man’s face—she wasn’t sure whose—swam into her line of vision. “I’ve got something I want to show you, honey.”

“Don’t stoooooop…” she whined.

“I’ll get you off in a minute.” He clasped her upper arms. “Come on. I think you’ll like it.”

Missy let him lead her across the room to a door she hadn’t noticed before—understandable since it was the same burgundy red as the walls. He opened it and they stepped out into another hallway, which was short, and spilled out into a…a…

Her mind took in the various devices dripping with leather straps and chains, the wood and leather and steel implements hanging on the long peg board.

“Play dungeon!” Missy squeaked. The Seven Blonde Babes had struck pay dirt!

The man led her to the first device, which was taller than her, and in the rough shape of a cross. It was attached to a platform a little over shoulder width wide, and had a crossbar on the upright that was ankle high with cuffs on each end. He removed what was left of her clothes, eased her back to the upright, fastened her ankles in the restraints, and cuffed her hands behind her to a short horizontal bar. He circled her neck with a leather collar attached to the upright. Lastly, he pulled up an attached vibrator of some sort, and placed the tip an inch from Missy’s clit.

“Is that gonna make me cum?”

“All in good time, baby.” He stood and dropped a kiss on her forehead. “First, we’re going to get your friends in here. Don’t want them to miss out on the fun, do we?”

“N—no.” They’re gonna love it!


Sissy was led into the room, her surprise turning to excitement when she saw the big grin on Missy’s face. The man led her past her friend to a metal bar about three feet long hanging from the ceiling by a chain attached to each end. He stripped the unresisting Sissy, lowered the bar, and secured her hands in the cuffs affixed to each end. Then he pulled on the other end of the chain, which was hooked over a ceiling beam, and hauled Sissy upward until she was standing on tiptoe. He secured the chain, holding her in place.

Sissy exchanged glances with Missy. Oh, this was going to be fun!


A nude Lizzie entered the dungeon on the arms of two men, the two who had picked them up, she thought. They seated her in a heavy wooden chair, and wound straps around her body, crisscrossing her breasts and belly, down between her thighs, and secured them to the chair. Her ankles were cuffed to the chair’s legs and her wrists to its arms. A collar attached to the chair circled her throat. Her heart raced with excitement. At last she was going to get what the Seven Blonde Babes had talked about and fantasized about for years: being thoroughly fucked and used by hot, dominant men.

She grinned at her two friends.


Millie rushed into the dungeon ahead of her two escorts, and saw her three friends each trussed to a different device. She squealed in delight and turned back to Mitch and Gary. “Can I pick which one I want?” she asked.

Mitch stepped forward. “No, you may not.” His engaging smile softened his words. “The decision is not yours…you’ll do as you’re told. Now take off the panties.”

Millie wriggled out of a red thong—her only article of clothing—and both men assisted her up onto a tall, narrow padded bench that had what she thought of as running boards the length of both sides that were just the right height to rest her knees while straddling the bench. Like her friends had been, her wrists and ankles were cuffed to the apparatus.


Susie was so drunk that she had to be carried into the dungeon. Mitch and Gary made short work of divesting her of bra, skirt, and panties, which roused her somewhat, and she was able to stand unaided as they attached her wrists and ankles to a big, metal X affixed to a sturdy platform, her back facing outward


Betty strutted into the play dungeon, wriggling her ample butt that was covered in white, lacy fabric. The two men who followed appreciatively watched the sway of her hips.

She stopped when she saw her five trussed up friends. Her eyes narrowed, then widened. Her full lips curved into a smile.

“Yours is right over there,” Mitch said, inclining his head toward what Betty recognized as old-fashioned stocks.

The men made short work of securing her hands and head in the middle position so that she was bent over at the waist. Her panties were jerked down around her ankles. Quivers of excitement coursed through Betty’s body.

A hand caressed her butt. “Mmm…that looks tasty.” Then delivered a hard slap.

Betty moaned.


Debbie was led past her six excited friends (even Susie who had sobered somewhat, was now bright-eyed) to the largest and only unoccupied piece of furniture in the room. The size of a single bed and covered with padded black leather, it looked comfy to her. But when she was stripped and stretched out on her back, and her hands and feet spread and cuffed to the four corners, she wasn’t too comfy then. But what was a little discomfort compared to the ecstasy that lay ahead?

Mitch and Gary each dropped a kiss on her forehead, and smiled. And as they made their way back across the dungeon, they repeated the tender forehead kiss on each of the Seven Blonde Babes, pausing longer with Susie, whom they flipped upside down with a turn of the big X.

Then they disappeared through the doorway.

The Seven Blonde Babes started talking softly, their voices gradually increasing in volume and interspersed with giggles and twitters.

Now naked, his semi-erect cock leading the way, Mitch reentered the dungeon. Without speaking a word, or even acknowledging the Seven Blonde Babes existence, he made his way to the pegboard. One at a time, he took seven ball gags from the board. And starting with Missy—who he silenced with a “shh” and a finger over his smiling lips when she started to speak—buckled a gag around each head, making sure each red ball fitted in each rounded mouth before pulling it tight.

He stepped over to the door, motioned with his hand, then stepped aside.

Seven pairs of eyes watched as two naked men stepped inside carrying a folding table. Five more followed, two bearing folding chairs, one carrying two silver candelabras, one a pure white damask tablecloth and wine glasses, one a stack of plates and silverware. All worked on setting up the table in the center of the room and laying it out.

Again, Mitch motioned at the doorway, and Gary came inside toting an ice bucket containing two bottles of red wine. He placed it in the center of the table between the candelabras.

A big burly, bald man with a raging hard-on stepped inside the dungeon. In his left hand, he carried a long gleaming knife. Grinning, he used it to salute the bound women.

Horror dawned in the Seven Blonde Babes’ eyes as they took in the knife, the table set for dining, the hungry look on ten, hard faces. All begin screaming behind the gags and twisting in their restraints. But when none of the men approached, slowly their muffled screams died and their eyes grew watchful again.

And again, Mitch left the room.

Eyes intent, both captors and captives silently watched the empty doorway. And after a time, sounds invaded the quiet…shuffling…growling…

Mitch backed into the room, his arms outstretched with a long, rigid pole gripped in both hands. On the end of the pole was a noose. And the noose circled the neck of a rotting, arm-flailing, jaw-snapping corpse.

The Seven Blonde Babes howled behind their gags. The men chuckled.

Mitch wrestled the zombie over to Missy. She screamed, the sound muffled by the red ball between her lips. She shrank back as the horrid thing’s teeth clicked together inches from her nose.

“Uh-uh, not the face.” Mitch forced its head down, and its teeth sank into Missy’s shoulder and ripped out a chunk of flesh.

The stifled screams gradually died away as Mitch coaxed the zombie down the line of women, letting it take a bite out of each before moving to the next. After it had torn a hole in the side of Debbie’s neck, the big, bald man stepped up and pierced its molted skull with his knife. It went down without a single twitch.


Her senses dulled by loss of blood and the spreading virus, Missy apathetically watched as the men brought finger foods to the table, lit the candelabras, poured wine, and relaxed as they talked and laughed. Occasionally, they stroked their cocks.

Before the fire in her head completely burned out her brain, one by one Missy saw her friends turn, saw their filmy eyes roll toward the men, their mouths growling and snapping. And as the last vestige of humanity left her, she saw Mitch approach, felt the awful hunger. Craving human flesh, her teeth found the ball gag instead.

Mitch squeezed her breasts, pinched her unfeeling nipples. His warm fingers plunged inside her cooling pussy. He leaned over and whispered in her ear, “Oh baby, you’re gonna be one hell of a wild ride…”

The thing that had once been Missy of the Seven Blonde Babes snarled, strained against its restraints to reach warm flesh and hot blood.

Mitch pushed the vibrator away, shoved a knee between its thighs, spreading its legs wider.

And what happened in Dallas, stayed in Dallas.

9 thoughts on “What Happens In Dallas…

      1. Thanks Michael!
        I had horror in mind when I wrote it, the eroticism was just a byproduct, setting the scene, so to speak. Hard to find anything erotic about rotting zombies. 😁

        Liked by 1 person

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