The Lady Godiva Game

This story recounts a game at a convention in which a woman winds up being unexpectedly exhibited nude in front of a large group, and simultaneously subjected to a severe test of her bladder holding capacity. Just a bit of consensual sex.

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The hotel ballroom was filling with over four hundred attendees, as the annual convention of the International Society of Structural Design came to its closing event. For ten days attendees had participated in technical and business sessions, and now they came to the concluding time of their yearly gathering. They came from all over the world to this hotel in Northern Europe, to exchange ideas, to engage in seemingly endless presentations of technical papers, to view innumerable exhibits, participate in society business, and just enjoy each other. It was almost all business, until tonight. This was the time to relax, to have fun, to end on a friendly note and carry away those great memories while looking to what would await them at their next venue a year hence.

They came in numbers, using snatches of numerous languages, though all could manage the English that was the common vehicle of their business. Perhaps a third were spouses of delegates, both male and female, while the delegates themselves were industry professionals or interested observers. In this prestigious group, most of the members were thirty or over, though there were a few younger, and some were much older. All seemed well educated, well dressed, and now smiling, looking to an evening of food, wine, and a bit of fun.

Marianne Dexter approached a table, accompanying her husband, Greg, who had been ten years a member of the society and several times an attendee at the convention. Behind them came Freida Dussenberg, employed by an architectural firm of Dusseldorf, accompanied by her husband, Hans.

"Shall we sit here? This has a good view of the stage", asked Marianne of her companions. In seeming agreement, all four of them quickly took places at the table, set for ten. Behind them quickly came another couple, conversing in French, until the gentleman politely asked in excellent English if they might join the group. Introductions were exchanged.

An older couple then approached the table, asking by exchange of glances if they might be seated. Those already there quickly nodded smilingly. Suddenly Greg expressed recognition. "Say - aren't you Art Montfort, our Society Vice President?"

The older man acknowledged the greeting with a nod, and added, "That is my privilege, but you might say retiring Vice President, as I won't have that title after tonight. May I present my wife Sylvia?" A rather elegant looking, quite tall gray haired lady at his side beamed at them, and extended her hand in greeting to those around. "My third convention - Art's been coming to them for at least twenty years, but I've had my own business and that tied me up most of the time. However, I did break loose long enough to make it for his last hurrah as a Society officer. It's been a great week for me. How about all of you?"

The group exchanged impressions and experiences of the last few days, as they were joined by two others, a man and a woman, though apparently not together, as the tables filled.

Hans looked at Art intently at one point, and then observed, "Weren't you the one they honored for distinguished service to the membership at the business session Wednesday? I really shouldn't have been there, but I accompanied Freida; and I just couldn't forget the accolades they heaped on you. We're fortunate to be in your company!"

"Yes, that was me", Art answered. "But they really overdid it. I think they were really celebrating the end of my service and the opportunity to see someone new take the job!"

"Not the way I heard it", Greg chimed in. "I've seen you at all these I've come to. Let's see, it's G. Arthur Montfort, isn't it? You've got quite a record, which I can envy. By the way, I always wondered what the 'G' was for?"

Sylvia laughed. "Guisseppe! Guisseppe Arthur Montfort! Can you believe it? I think he hates it when I tell on him?" Her steel gray hair shook a bit with her laughter as she turned to her husband, who seemed to shy from her response.

"Sylvia told on me. It's, in a way, an heirloom. My mother was from an Italian family, and her parents insisted that their grandson should have an Italian name. My parents obliged them and saddled me with it; but they never used it, and neither do I!"

"It's a perfectly good name. You shouldn't be ashamed of it!" commented Marianne.

"A great American name", Sylvia added. "We Americans are mostly a mix of who knows what. Art just didn't see it that way. So we just call him Art!"

The conversation went on for a time, until Helga, the woman who had come alone to the table, asked about the entertainment for the evening. "I understand that after the ceremonial things, we have an exciting evening ahead. After we stuff ourselves on this meal, I hear there will be a some specialty acts brought in for us! "

"Yes", Hans added. "They always seem to come up with some local color in the entertainment. I'm not sure what they will be tonight, but always they have been good.

Marianne was quick to add, "It's not the entertainers they bring in that is really the most exciting part- usually it's the audience participation thing they do each time. That's really wild! And I don't have a clue what it will be tonight!"

"Oh?" asked Helga. "What do they do?"

Greg explained. "At each banquet, there's a committee that plans some sort of game or contest, something of an icebreaker. It's intended to be fun, but, as Marianne says, it can get a bit wild. But I think everyone has enjoyed it! One rule is no one is ever pressured into participation, but everyone gets to watch. I have to say, they've been getting wilder and wilder. Who knows what they'll come up with tonight!"

Freida broke into a big smile. "Last year they did a crazy thing! They had a contest - remember the underwear event? It was, as you say, wild. But it was fun. Even for those who participated, it was fun!"

"Did you?" Marianne asked of Freida.

"I'm not telling." Freida answered, a bit shyly.

"What on earth was it?" asked Helga.

"Tell her, Marianne, since you seemed to enjoy it!" Art prompted.

"Well," Marianne began, "they had this contest. There was a good prize, mind you, so that made it worth while. The prize was to go to the first man who could get up to the stage with two sets of women's underwear - two panties and two bras! And you know where he was going to get them from!"

"Yes", Freida went on, "And there was prizes for the runner-up and the second runner-up! And then - the funniest thing - they made the winners identify the women they had got the things from, and made them come up to get prizes, too!"

"Yes", continued Marianne, "but after everyone knew who the women were, and I think there were about eight or nine of them altogether, they had to leave their underwear on display on the stage for the rest of evening, and then they could retrieve the items. Everyone knew they were minus panties or bras throughout the evening. Some of them were blushing red most of the evening!"

"I hear", spoke the gentlemen who had come alone, "that they have a much wilder event planned for tonight. It is, in fact, so wild they will require women to volunteer if they want to participate, and there's a lot of doubt if they will. I'm told there's a back-up plan if they don't get enough!"

The French-speaking couple smiled at each other. The lady spoke. "Allow me, I am Michelle Durant, and this is my husband, Paul. We had heard of the game last year, and I had asked about this year. I was told something of the same thing! It will be interesting, indeed!"

Sylvia turned to Art. "Do you know what they're going to do? You're in on most things! I love the fun things, if they just don't go too far. Give us a hint?"

Greg hesitated. "Well, yes, I've heard about the game, but I don't know if it's a go. If they do what was talked about, it's plenty wild, and they might not get enough participation. It has to be voluntary, you know. It's the kind of thing they couldn't do in a lot of places, but here they seem to have an OK for it, as long as it's confined to the guests in the ballroom!"

"Aren't you going to tell us?" asked Helga. Marianne, too, looked at Greg with curiosity.

"I'm not really supposed to.

"Just a hint?" Marianne insisted.

"Not supposed to. But - well, OK, you're all at the table and it will be announced in a few minutes anyway. OK - what they're proposed will be called, if they go through with it, 'The Lady Godiva Game' and it will involve a sort of lottery in which women who volunteer will have their names drawn, for the honor of playing 'Lady Godiva' for the evening. That's all I'm going to tell you!"

"Lady Godiva", Helga mused, "wasn't she the one who rode naked through the town in some kind of protest?"

"You got it!" Marianne observed. "Does this mean some female is going to be drawn for the privilege of riding around with her clothes off?"

Greg shook his head. "No more comment. You'll hear if they decide to do it!"

The guests debated the possibilities, as the event was called to order and the presiding officer gave a welcome to the attendees and invited guests, and went through a litany of thanks to those who had organized the events and were otherwise being honored.

After the opening ceremonies, the presiding officer then introduced an official as Chairman of the Entertainment Committee. This official then took the chair, and explained that several events featuring local talent would be performed for the gathering after dinner and after some preliminary things were done. Then, he announced, "Some of you have been expressing interest in what we call 'The Game', which we do each year. A number of you look forward to this each year, and for this year the Committee has organized an event which promises to be memorable. Some of you recall the 'game' of last year! In that one, several of the ladies relinquished some of their attire to enable a male contestant to win a prize. Many of you liked the idea, and while we were surprised at the number of female attendees who enjoyed the event, some of them said it seemed unfair because the winners, who were men, weren't the ones who had to give up anything. So, tonight, we've arranged something different. Tonight's event will have a female prize winner - and just one. The prize will go to the winner, if she complies with the rules, and everyone else will have to little but watch. Yes, watch! And it should be quite a show! That is, if we have enough participants to allow us to do it! We will call this one, 'The Lady Godiva Game' ".

Marianne almost burst out laughing. She turned to her table mates. "See? They're really going to do it! Oh, I can't wait to see this!" Michelle also smiled. "Yes, it is as I had heard!"

The speaker went on. "This event is just for the ladies. Men, sorry, but you can't win the prize on this one, so don't even try. All you can do is encourage your lady to put her name in the hat, and she wins, maybe she'll share the prize with you. The prize, incidentally, is the equivalent of two thousand US dollars, which we will give to the winner at the end of the evening - if she has met all the rules.

"Now, here are the rules. On each table is a set of cards. No woman is required to participate, remember. You can each choose to enter or not to. There are about four hundred and forty of us here, including almost two hundred women, so we've decided that the event will go on only if we have at least one hundred female entrants. That guarantees that no one will have a chance of more than one in one hundred of being chosen. The chosen one will be known as 'Lady Godiva' for the evening. Some of you can guess why, already.

"Next, we will have the committee members pass around the room with baskets, and any female person present may write her name and table number on a card and drop it in the basket. Before dropping it in, you must show it to others at your table so they will know you are submitting you own name, and not someone else's. We will collect all of the cards and thoroughly mix them in a large glass bowl. Before dessert is served, one name will be drawn. The lady selected will be asked to stand and identify herself, then return to her place for dessert and coffee.

"After coffee is served, we will call forward our Lady Godiva who will come up to the stage, where she will be introduced to all of you, and will have an opportunity to speak to you. Then, she will be asked to remove all of her clothes, whatever she has on, and leave them hanging on the coat tree at the side of the stage. Then, she descend and move to the tables in the room. For the remainder of the evening, she will circulate among the tables, and at each table she will turn around, display herself, and stay at the table long enough to have a drink of something with those seated there. Someone will use a pen and sign his or her name and the table number on her stomach, or , er, seat. She will then go to the next table. We will proceed with the evening's entertainment while she circulates. If she manages to get through all the tables, and there are 45 of them, before the evening ends, which will give her about two to three hours, and doesn't leave the room , she gets the full prize. I think she will have earned it!

"Ladies, you can decide whether to enter! We will be collecting the cards in about half an hour, so you have some time to decide. Remember, if we don't get at least a hundred, we will not go on with it!"

The room immediately erupted into a cacophony of conversation as excited attendees began to discuss the game.

Marianne was ecstatic. "I think it's great! It's really wild! But I'm not going to enter - I couldn't do anything like that. I just want to watch!"

Helga was lukewarm. "I know it's all in fun. But, to put yourself on exhibit like that - naked, no less! Maybe I'll take a chance. But I sure hope I'm not the winner. Not even for two thousand dollars!"

Paul looked at Michelle. "And, will you enter your name? It was you who told me this would happen!"

Michelle nodded. "But of course! The chance of being chosen is so small! But we must see who it will be. It would be a pity if there were not enough to enter!"

"But not for me! I just couldn't!" Marianne insisted. Freida nodded in seeming agreement.

Art tried to intervene. "No one has to participate. I really don't think they will get enough women to offer their names. I can't imagine that many women would want to do this!"

His wife was unenthusiastic. "I think it's in very bad taste. In fact, it's just awful. The underwear game last time was fun, in a way, but this! Anyway, I'm sure no one would want me to be a winner, anyway, at my age!"

"Which is?" Marianne inquired. Greg tried to cut her off "Marianne, you don't ask that!"

"Sixty three", Sylvia responded without hesitation.

"And she's not ashamed of it, Greg!" Marianne responded. "I'm forty three, and I hope I look like you when I'm sixty three!" she looked smilingly at Sylvia.

"Thank you", Sylvia countered. "Still, I'm hardly the age for this sort of game."

The conversation went on for a time. All of them looked at the group of cards on the table, as the waiters brought appetizers and salads.

"Well, who's going to be the first?" asked Helga, eyeing the cards after the discussion died down.

"Looks like no one" Marianne observed, "unless Michelle wants to start!" She looked at Michelle.

"Oh, I will enter my name - with a prayer that it won't be drawn! But, I fear you are right. There will not be enough volunteers. Yes, I will do it; but only because I feel sure I won't be chosen. Really, I don't think there will be enough to enter their names."

"Then the game is off", commented Greg, with a shrug. "Wonder what they've got for a back up?"

"Pity", said Freida "I think a lot of us wanted to see it go on, we just didn't want to be chosen!"

After a bit of silence, Sylvia reached forward, took a card, and began to write on it.

Her husband stared at her. "What are you doing - volunteering me? You won't get away with it!"

"No", Sylvia answered in a matter of fact way, "I'm offering my name. Even though everyone, especially me, will be sorry if I'm drawn."

"In heaven's name why?" her husband asked, his intonation rising.

"You don't need to do that", Marianne implored her.

"Of course I don't. And I still think the game is in terrible taste. They should never do anything like this, and I feel sorry for whoever is chosen. But this is the event they've come up with, and a lot of people look forward to this as a fun time. There are over four hundred people here just expecting a good time. No one is planning to make it difficult for whoever is drawn, and the chance of being drawn is slight, anyway. But I came here as a guest, Art is an officer of this body, and we need to support the committee who planned this, even if we think their idea is not terribly good. I would absolutely hate to be chosen, but we're going to ruin an evening for a lot of people if we don't give it a chance. After all, most of us are going to leave tomorrow, and the people here, for the most part, aren't ones you're going to see for another year, if ever, so it's not going to ruin you in front of all your friends. Art, how would it look if your own wife wouldn't participate, after all the recognition they've heaped on you? We're supposed to support this organization, and that includes the Entertainment Committee, even when they have distasteful ideas. Frankly, I think it's disgusting, but, yes, I'll offer my name!"

The others looked at each other, as Sylvia completed the card. She wrote her name on it in a large feminine script, and showed it to the others. Michelle displayed the card on which her own name had been inscribed.

"No - not for me" Freida commented, clearly not writing anything.

"Nor me - but, in a way, I think Sylvia's right. I just don't have the nerve to do it!" Helga joined in.

Marianne hesitated, her face strained. She looked at the cards, then at Sylvia. Nervously, she reached for a card. "Sylvia's right - we've all participated in the events this week, and we need to take a chance on this, even if we don't like the idea. We shouldn't spoil the party. The odds are pretty heavy against being chosen - I'm going to put in my name. If Sylvia can do it, I can." She took her card and began writing, looking at her husband for his response.

"For your sake, not everybody else's, I have to admit, I hope you're not the choice. But it's for you to decide!"

Art grasped for something to say after his wife's declared intention, but for once seemed at a loss for words. He sat in silence, gently shaking his head.

Shortly, the baskets began to circulate, carried by committee members. As a basket approached, the women who had completed cards held them up for collection. Marianne dropped hers in, with a long sigh. "See?" she said to Greg, "I did do it! Now you can hope they pick someone else!"

The meal went on, with only occasional references to the impending drawing. The conversation shifted to other matters as the courses were served. Each table was supplied with both wine and water, and the guests were clearly enjoying both. By the end of the main course, the effects on several of the wine drinkers was evident. The atmosphere was relaxed as the main course dishes were removed.

At this point, attention was drawn to the stage, where a large glass bowl had been positioned on a small table covered with a white cloth.

"Ladies and gentlemen," the announcement began, "we now come to the event we had explained earlier. We have counted the cards offered by the ladies who were willing to volunteer. As you will recall, there must be a minimum of one hundred women entering, or we will not go ahead with the drawing." He turned to two people, a man and a woman, standing at the side of the stage. "Has the counting committee done it's task?" he asked of them.