Tracy had one too many cool glasses of Chablis, while dining with friends. They weren't ladies that lunched, though they did meet up for the occasional dinner together. Since university they kept in touch, attending weddings, and the usual social gatherings, whenever possible.
The others seemed to have far more interesting lives, though she knew they weren't all fun and games. Margaret's funeral had brought it home to them all that life was too short, to put off that elusive something.
"Do tell, what is it you have always wanted to do, though never managed to achieve?" Irene asked. Her usual noble, nasal accent, made the question sound like a demand.
She was referring to their earlier conversations, concerning Margaret's early demise. They had moved on to the inevitable subject of sex and the lack of it, so the question sounded less than innocent. Especially as they were about to pick dare cards, from an empty desert bowl.
"I'm not about to give you a clue as to my dare," Tracy pouted. "You'll just have to pick one and hope for the best," she smiled.
As usual Penelope had to be courageous and so, she picked the first card, laying it face down on the table. The others followed suit.
"Well?" Irene asked. She was eager to turn hers over, obviously keen, to see what she was committed to.
"Let's, turn them over together," Bernice suggested.
On the count of three they turned the card and quietly read the instructions. No-one gasped in horror, though Tracy felt queasy. Each had thought up a dare while visiting the bathroom. The attendant wrote them out, to keep them anonymous, as they knew each others hand writing.
Tracy wanted to say she couldn't do this. It was just too naughty. It might even be dangerous. Having read the card several times, she passed it the left, for the others to read. They were interrupted by the waiter re-filling their glasses. This time Tracy didn't cover the wine glass with a hand. Instead, she gratefully accepted, and took a gulp of the cool liquid.
"I can't see you carrying this out," Irene smirked, while fanning the card. The others laughed along with her.
"I will! A dare is a dare, and I accept the challenge," Tracy admonished them. She didn't feel so confident inside. She quaked, with stomach churning fear. It was a surprise to feel excited too.
"You can be the first then," Irene stated. "We all go along, to see you carry out the task. To protect you, of course, though nothing will happen," she artfully smiled.
The others took over planning, before she had a chance to think of an excuse to back out. Her life was boring, she conceded, so maybe this would add a little spice to it. She told herself that was wrong, not spice, but excitement. With her friends along, nothing would happen. She would be perfectly safe, of course she would.
On the drive to Irene's home she felt excited. A little aroused too! She put it down to the adventure, nothing to do with a perverse sexual anticipation.
Irene borrowed her maid's car, which was an old Honda saloon. It would hardly be suitable, to show up in a brand new Cadillac. Penelope picked the outfit. They giggled at her while she stared at it in a mirror.
"You bitch! It's worse than I thought," Tracy exclaimed. Even she was surprised that she didn't reject it. The exhilaration in the room was electric, infecting them all with excitement. Her friends had taken a day off from busy executive positions, so she felt obliged to carry out the dare. Or at least, she told herself that.
In the hotel suit they prepared her make-up. She had her nails done, not at the usual boutique, for it would be horrid to be recognised there. They tied her blonde hair into pig tails, while she mildly protested that they were going too far.
Tracy giggled with them. She was a thirty-three old woman, wearing an outfit unsuitable for when she was sixteen. The mirror image of a dumb blonde was effective. Driving the battered old car would fit the scene they had set-up perfectly.
"Come on, practise the part," Bernice chided her.
The three of them stared at her, waiting for the image to come alive. They had all tried their hand on the college stage, that's where they first met. That had been more than a few years ago, and it had been a failure then.
Tracy twirled the short, flowery dress and giggled, in a high pitched whine. "I'm so silly, I forgot my purse," she chirped.
"Well done!" Bernice laughed, while clapping her hands in appreciation of the performance. The others laughed along, adding their own comments.
"I always thought you were a dumb blonde," Irene smirked.
"Thank you, ma'am. I hope to be a bimbo, when I'm old like you, ma'am," Tracy replied, with a scathing look directed at Irene.
"Careful ladies, don't forget, we all have to go through with a dare," Bernice reminded them. Good old Bernice was the sensible one as usual. The same age as the others, yet usually the one to bring a focus, and a sense of decorum to their little group.
"Come on then, young girl, your audience awaits your entrance," Irene said, pushing her toward the door.
"OK! One more drink, then the adventure is on," Penelope announced.
"Sorry, miss, Angel will be a good girl, and do as she's told," Tracy said, with a convincing girly whine.
They laughed along with her, and each hugged her.
