A group of us at Uni wound up sharing a rented house. It was quite a spacious place, with four bedrooms and two en-suites as well as the normal bathroom. With six of us contributing to the rent it was a reasonably priced way to live. Currently we were split with four women and two guys. The four women were two to a room in the biggest bedrooms, those with the en-suites. We two gentlemen had the smaller bedrooms and shared the bathroom, on those occasions that some female hadn't commandeered it.
I'd like to point out at this stage that the whole deal was platonic. Good thing, too. Imagine all the angst if there were a couple of lovers there who decided to break up. It's bad enough when one of the girls breaks up with a boyfriend who doesn't reside in-house. (Not so bad when they drop someone, a bit rough if they get dropped. Especially if panties had also been dropped at some stage.)
I dropped in home one afternoon when I had no lectures. I'd assumed that I'd have the house to myself and would be able to do some quiet studying. No such luck. It turned out that there was a full on cat-fight taking place in the front room.
I don't mean that the two young ladies were hissing and clawing at the air and saying nasty things. It had gone way past there. Hands were pulling at each other's hair, claws were out for scratching and clothes were being torn. I actually identified the opponents rather quickly.
Naomi was the redhead. Around nineteen and well stacked. I'd always had a suspicion that she padded her bras. The fact that the one she now wore was only half on meant that I could see a generous white bosom that certainly was not padded.
Michelle was the blonde. Also around nineteen and nicely stacked. I couldn't tell if she padded her bra or not as her top clothes had survived the fight up to this point. Her skirt had ridden up to her waist, though, and I was able to observe that she was a natural blonde. The thong she wore was no longer doing an efficient job of hiding her fur. Or anything else.
Stick my hand into the middle of a cat-fight? Not me. I stood back and roared at them. This had exactly zero effect. They continued their screeching, clawing little battle. I shrugged, stepped into the kitchen, returned with a large jug of water and dumped it on them.
That worked. After a fashion. They broke apart and looked down at their ragged, wet selves and in perfect unison they turned and jumped me. Now I tried to fend them off politely, and thought I was doing OK until one of them bit me. That made me jerk my hand away and the remains of Naomi's bra came with it.
There was a loud shriek and they really went for me. Having no further choice in the matter I handled them a little roughly, finishing with them both pinned to the floor, one on top of the other. (No hitting was involved. Just plain strength and speed.)
For my trouble and efforts not to actually hurt them I wound up with some assorted scratches to go with my bite. Bitches.
After a moment they started trying to wriggle free, so I leaned down and whispered some sweet nothing-doings in their ear.
"If the pair of you start struggling before I let you up I am going to start spanking your bottoms. Just hold still until you've calmed down a little. You idiots have managed to bite me and scratch me and I fully intend to ravish the pair of you sometime in the near future as a penalty, so I don't advise you to press your luck right now.
Now, I'm going to let you go and the pair of you will stand up quietly and explain what the hell you think you're playing at. You won't go running off and you won't start fighting again. You will just stand there and answer my questions. Got it?"
"It's none of your fucking business," was the initial response. I pointed out that it became my business when one of them fanged me and might makes right. And at that particular moment the might was on my side. Rather begrudgingly they agreed to behave.
We all stood up and they glared at me while I smile benignly. I could afford to smile. They didn't seem to notice just how much naked flesh they were showing and I was enjoying the view.
"Now, what was the fight about?"
"She's poaching my boyfriend!"
They both came out with identical words at the same time. Then they turned and glared at each other. Not wanting hostilities to resume I growled, which swung their eyes back to me. I was running through who I'd seen them with in recent times, trying to pick up a common partner. Then it twigged.
"Ah, are the pair of you referring to Larry?"
Mutual nods seemed to indicate that they did indeed mean Larry. I decided to clarify.
"We're talking Larry the Lothario? The guy who has chased every woman in a 5 mile radius, from teeny boppers to grandmothers, and boasts he catches most of them?"
There were a pair of vivid blushes now, and their agreement that this was the Larry concerned sounded a touch defensive.
"You're chasing Larry, the VD king? The guy who has a permanent Monday appointment at the VD clinic? The guy the doctor described as a one man epidemic?"
"That's a lie," Naomi protested. "He does not have VD. You have no right to say he has."
"Maybe his shots are up to date. Actually, I guess he's just done the pair of you a favour."
"What do you mean?" Michelle sounded dreadfully suspicious of my cheerful observation.
"Isn't it obvious? If the pair of you are fucking Larry then there's no way known I'm going to apply a penalty that consists of me ravishing you. Too risky by far."
Amazing creatures, women. Here I am saying that I won't ravish them and they act all insulted. They were really quite strident on the matter. What it boiled down to was that they were insistent that Larry did not have VD and even if he did it wouldn't matter as they hadn't slept with him anyway.
"Yes, well if Larry doesn't have a VD I'd love to know which one it is. I'm quite sure he'll collect it soon and complete the set."
(I don't like Larry. You may have noticed. I consider him a health hazard. One day he's going to pass something nasty on to the wrong person and this will be followed by a quiet funeral.)
The girls were about to start on me again but I held up my hands.
"OK, OK," I said. "If you're prepared to swear that you're not sleeping with Larry I'll put the ravishments back on my to-do list. Well?"
Naomi and Michelle gave each other the cold eye, but both admitted that no, they had not yet slept with Larry. (And I suspect it would be a long time before they got up the nerve to do so.)
"Have it your way," I said. "Ravishment will take place in the near future."
Now the girls were giving each other slightly stunned looks as it dawned on them what they had been insisting upon.
"Ah, you don't really intend to rape us, do you?" asked Michelle nervously.
